Sky Pirates of the Rio Grande - Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Eden didn't dare come out until it was dark.  She hid herself up in the darkest corners of the engine room, tucked in behind a nest of pipes, listening.  At first she waited for the fusillade of shots that would mean Zenobia was dead, but she heard nothing, just distant voices and footsteps on deck, some thumping and rattling.

With the engines shut down it was sepulchrally quiet in here, with just the slow sound of water dripping and the occasional spang as the pipes cooled.  What would she do if they just took Zenobia and sailed away?  Or worse, if they set fire to the Jackson before leaving?  There was nothing aboard for them to be really pleased about - no powder or shot, no treasure and few supplies.  She'd be fortunate if they didn't just use the old hulk for target practice.

She heard men come down into the engine room and walk around, muttering darkly about the antique machinery and tapping on the pipes.  Eden scrunched herself down as small as she could get and held her breath until she was dizzy, praying they wouldn't find her.

They didn't, and after a bit they just left.  Presently she heard more footsteps in the companionways belowdecks, as well as a lot of hammering and pounding up above.  All she could do was wait, and she decided to sneak over to the pirate ship as soon as it was fully dark and she had a chance of not being seen.  Anything was better than being left alone on a derelict airship.  Her brain counted the drips of water, used them as a clock so she could count the hours until sunset.

At last she eased out of her hiding spot and climbed down to the floor.  With the engines banked the plated deck was cold under her bare feet.  She crossed to the engineer's lockers and rummaged quietly until she found a hat.  Eden might pass for a boy in bad light, but not with her hair loose.  Working quickly, she tucked her curls away under the striped hat, then took some engine grease and marked up her face and neck with it to further hide her features.

Her nerves skated on their edge as she climbed up to the main deck and peered out.  The sky was a little cloudy and the light was low.  Lanterns hung fore and aft on the Jackson but she saw no one.  Alongside, the Shitfire was lashed close and lit by numerous lanterns, and she could see men moving about on the deck.

Now she could see what they had been about, as several patches of the old decking had been pried up and the lumber taken, as well as parts of the rail.  Wood was always in short supply in the far West - why buy it or waste time cutting and finishing your own when any ship had planks for the taking?  Another way the Jackson was old-fashioned was the quality and stoutness of her timbers - modern ships were built with steel.  Mexican ships were built more like the old style, and so finding good timber to repair a Santander-class warship would be more of a challenge.

Still, she couldn't know how long they would linger, and so she had to move.  Eden gathered her wits and tried to shape herself like a boy.  She squared her shoulders, slouched her back, and set her feet wider, tried ambling with a sort of swagger, like she'd seen boys do.  It wasn't enough to dress like a boy, she'd never pass for one if she minced like a young lady.

The gangplanks were still lashed across between the ships, and so she just waited for a moment when no one was looking and skipped across, glad for the darkness which made it impossible to see the ground very far below.  Her heart thundered like hoofbeats as she dropped down onto the deck of the pirate ship.

For a moment she expected to go down under a rush of outraged, lust-inflamed corsairs, but instead, no one seemed to pay her much attention.  She had to find Zenobia and get her loose.  Eden knew the layout of the Santander-class, but wasn't sure where they would put a prisoner.  The brig, she knew, was below and aft, on the lowest deck.  That was as good a place to start as any.

Belowdecks, Eden made her way through the maze of beams and hanging ropes.  The whole place smelled deeply and powerfully of men - an animal maleness she had never really smelled before, but that she instinctively knew.  It was the smell of men who have been without women for a while.  She ducked between the heavy gun emplacements and let knots of them pass her.  She smelled rum as well, and hoped they were drunk enough to not notice her.  In places there were knots of them gathered around, playing at dice or cards, laughing and joking.  Even the tag-ends of their jokes made her flush and she kept her head down so they wouldn't see.

She was hunting for the middle deck when she heard a distinctive snarl from forward and stopped, turned her head and followed the sound.  She threaded among the beams and the odd wandering sailor until she came to a knot of them gathered at a doorway in the forward cabin.  There were six of them clustered at the door, laughing and jostling each other.  She didn't want to get any closer to them, but that was Zenobia - she had to.  Gritting her teeth, she squeezed her way into the crowd until she was able to see past them.  And then she gaped, her mouth open.

Zenobia was here, all right.  She was bent forward, leaning against a beam with her fingers knotted in the ropes around her wrists.  Naked as a savage, bent at the waist, she was shuddering as a powerfully-built black man who looked big as a house thrust into her from behind.  Eden stared, her breath stopping.  She had never seen anything like this in her life.

The man held Zenobia's waist with his dark hands, thrusting into her with bull-like strength.  Eden could see his thick member sliding in and out of her, gleaming with her wetness.  She could smell their rutting like it was smoke from a fire.  She stared as Zenobia growled and snarled and pushed back, grinding her hips against her ravisher.  She wanted this - was enjoying it thoroughly - Eden could see that plain enough, and it both aroused and horrified her.

Zenobia pushed up on her toes, showing her teeth as the man taking her went faster and harder, driving so hard his hips thumped against her with an audible sound, sending a lewd ripple through the flesh of her backside.  He grunted, thrusting brutally, as if he wanted to hurt her with his manhood, but she only seemed to like it better.  Eden could see she was close, watched in a kind of awe as the tiger woman bit the beam she was lashed to hard enough to make the wood creak.  Zenobia growled like a bear when she came, and the big man stopped and swore, hunched over and tensed in every muscle.  Eden felt a flush creep over her face as she realized he was spending inside her.

Zenobia tossed her head, slapping her hair across the man's face.  "Is that all you have for me?  Is that it?"

He slapped her ass rudely.  "Shut up, you," he growled, but the sailors around Eden snickered insolently and shifted.  The black man stiffened, cocked his head in a gesture of long-suffering aggravation.  "And you all get gone. When I pull this out, any man still standin' there' is gonna suck it."

With that he drew his massive member out of Zenobia, the long, dark, slick pole of flesh followed by a gush of their mixed juices.  Eden stared at it, simultaneously fascinated and repulsed.  The Haitian turned his scarred face to look at her, and with a sudden drop in her belly she realized the other men had melted away as if by magic.

"Er--" she said, and turned to bolt, but someone unseen gave her a shove that sent her sprawling onto the deck.  She heard them snickering as they retreated.  She pushed herself up and saw the Haitian's booted feet right in front of her.  She looked higher and found herself examining his manhood from a most intimidating angle.

"Well now, little boy.  It time you learn what little boys do on a pirate ship."  The man leered down at her, and Eden made herself not look up at Zenobia by sheer force of will.  These men didn't know who she was, and that was her only weapon right now.

He slapped his member with his hand, a gesture so savage and crude it almost made her cry out.  He stroked it with his hand, pulling the skin forward until it almost engulfed the head.  A drop of fluid dripped from the tip and landed on Eden's cheek.  She made herself not shy from him, but she kept her eyes down so the narrow brim of her hat hid her face.

"Now you suck it, cabin boy," he said.  He pushed the hat off her head and her ponytail spilled down her back.  Her cheeks went hot and he grinned so wide she could hear it.  "Oh ho!  Cabin girl then!"  He slapped his cock against her face and she could not entirely stifle a yelp.  "Well, you suck me good, I won't tell anybody."  He slapped her cheek with his member again.  "Eh?"

Eden bit her lip, then closed her eyes and opened her mouth.  She just had time to gingerly extend her tongue when he grabbed her ponytail and pushed his sticky, salty manhood between her lips.

She made a muffled noise and tried to pull back, but he would not let her, pushed deeper until she almost choked.  Eden put her hands on his thighs for leverage, drew back, and then pushed forward and took him deeply into her mouth.  His member was warm, and softer than she would have expected - to her mind a cock was supposed to be rock-hard, but this was not nearly so rigid.

It slid between her lips and over her tongue, and if she allowed herself to think about her position - kneeling on the floor with a pirate's shank in her mouth - she felt she might die of embarrassment.  Instead, she made herself concentrate on pleasing him.  The happier she made him, the easier this would be.  She read the little signs he gave, the grunts and shifts of his weight as she slid her mouth up and down his salty length, drawing at him, tasting the fluid that seeped from the tip, feeling the way the skin slid over the shaft.  She hollowed her cheeks and sucked harder, eliciting a groan.

He let go of her hair, allowed her to do it herself, since she seemed willing.  He simply leaned back and forth slightly, sliding his length in and out of her mouth, grunting with enjoyment.  He drew away and Eden had to swallow to keep from drooling on herself, wiped at her chin as he turned and sank his shaft back into Zenobia from behind, ground deep inside her and made her growl.

When he drew back out his cock was slippery and dripping with juices again, and when he turned Eden didn't have to be told, she leaned in and took him in, tasting both him and Zenobia on his hot flesh.  She moved her head back and forth, pressing her tongue hard against him as he seemed to like.  He fucked her mouth as she sucked him, then drew away again and sheathed himself in Zenobia, gave her a dozen strokes and then turned back to Eden.

Eden was ashamed to find herself eager to taste him, her mouth wet and wanting as she sucked him, leaning on him, feeling the rock-hard muscles in his thighs as they tensed.  He was drawing close to climax, and she wondered what he intended to do.  Did he mean for her to - to swallow it?

Plainly he did, as he stroked another half-dozen times into her mouth, pushing so deep her eyes watered.  Then she felt his cock stiffen and throb, followed by a sudden flood of thick, salty seed.  It spurted over her tongue, scalded the back of her throat and she pulled back, coughing, felt a last stream of it land across her cheek.

He grunted and thumped her leg with his boot.  "All right then, off with it.  I'll have you proper now."

Zenobia kicked out, down and back, connecting with the back of his knee and bringing him crashing to the deck.  He was up in a moment, his eyes full of fury.  He snatched a leather strap from a hook on the wall and cracked it across Zenobia's back, making a horrible sound.  Eden flinched back against the wall and Zenobia laughed.

"That the best you can do?  Ha!  I've had worse from lungers!"  Her eyes gleamed with barely-contained wrath.  Eden looked to see how she could free Zenobia's hands and her heart sank as she saw the heavy iron collar around her neck, the chain that depended from it shackled to the beam.

The Haitian strapped her again, and again, but all Zenobia gave him was mockery.  Eden grabbed her hat and stuffed her hair back under it, wiped the spending from her face with a deep flush of humiliation and shame.  She felt wet between her legs, swollen and achy.  This brute was about to ravish her, was she such a trull that she wanted that?  What was wrong with her?

A sailor thrust his head through the door.  "Captain's coming," he said and then was gone.  The Haitian swore and hurriedly replaced the strap.  He was distracted, struggling to get his pants done up, and Eden jumped up and leaned close to Zenobia.

"Get this collar off, I'll do the rest," she said softly, and then she bolted for the door.

She found herself brought up short by a sartorial figure who caught her in an iron grip.  Eden gasped and looked up into the scarred face of Captain Maximilian Belial.

Continued in Sky Pirates of the Rio Grande available below: