Robin was dead.
Chapter 10 – Bedraggled
Annabelle went to the docks every morning and every evening, hoping to see her pirates. She took off the black heart that dangled from her nose as soon as she got home the day it had been sewn through her septum. It would have been scandalous to wear it permanently. But she did wear it as she strode proudly from the docks to her home on the day she had received the onyx hearts.
She still wore the hearts that dangled from her nipples, much to her husband's chagrin. She no longer felt the urge to jump on top of him and ride his cock each evening like she had when the Blackhearts were in port, however. But she did it whenever Charles requested it. It was now just another of her wifely chores.
She thought that her nipple piercings were beautiful. She had been dumbstruck when Bones had done it, marring her body permanently. She had also screamed and shrieked and carried on as he plunged the huge needle through her precious, sensitive flesh. But now she loved the little black hearts. Charles absolutely hated them and requested several times that she take them off. But she viewed them as permanent fixtures on her body now. They were constant reminders to her that she was owned by the officers and crew of a pirate ship. And she would watch them bob and sway on her chest as she rode Charles' cock on the occasions that she performed her wifely duties.
About two weeks after the departure of the Bedeviled, word got back to Bitter End about its capture. The crew was being taken to a prison. The officers were to be sold at auction on one of the Spanish controlled islands. Annabelle was devastated. Charles was delighted at the news. It had been risky for him to send news of the whereabouts of the privateer, but the risk had paid off for him. He was rid of Robin and her band of rapists. He would not be cuckolded again.
Two weeks after the news of the Bedeviled arrived, more bad news reached Bitter End. Robin was dead. And Annabelle felt dead inside.
It was Isabelle and Rachel who told her. They had been rescued by the British navy and they told her about Robin's ship exploding. Annabelle choked back the tears and sobs as she listened.
The Bedeviled had also been recovered and was now tied up to the dock at Bitter End as it was repaired. Isabelle and Rachel planned to take the ship back to sea as soon as possible to seek vengeance any Spanish ships they could find.
Annabelle implored them to take her with them. She would be their slave or a member of the crew or anything else they desired. She just wanted to be with them. The best days of her life had been the two weeks when she was the slave of the pirates. And there was nothing worth salvaging in her marriage at this point, as far as she was concerned. She had begun to see Charles for what he really was: a selfish, rude, crude lout who viewed her as nothing more than a trophy that he could show off and as his own private sperm receptacle.
Isabelle and Rachel agreed that she could come with them as a slave. She would be more useful servicing them and the males than in fighting or hoisting sails. Besides, they were still waiting for the return of Abigail and Carla. Those two slaves had been rescued from the Spanish ships by the British navy also but they were currently in the custody of the courts. Isabelle and Rachel had filed property claims on the girls with the court and now had to wait for the court to process the case. Since both slaves were born British, it could take awhile. Even though they had been captured on a British vessel, they might still be considered to be British. And the courts frowned on British citizens being held as slaves. So, while they waited for a decision, Annabelle would be their sex toy.
Robin awoke for the first time since the explosion. Her head hurt as did most of the rest of her body. She was lying on top of what used to be a door on the edge of a beach with waves lapping against her naked body. She tried to stand but quickly collapsed again as her legs gave out under her. She managed to crawl up the beach to the dry sand but with her wrists still bound behind her back, she moved more like an inchworm. She finally collapsed from exhaustion and passed out again.
Robin had been blown from the ship when the explosion occurred. Her body had been hurled far through the air and she landed on some floating debris. For three days, she floated unconscious until she finally washed onto the beach.
It was dark when Robin awakened again. This time, she was able to stand. She walked off the beach into the protection of some trees and sat down, leaning against one of the trunks. She needed food and water and she needed to get that rope off of her wrists. But that would have to wait until tomorrow. She was too exhausted at the moment. She slumped against the tree and fell asleep.
In the morning, she set off in search of water, which was her top priority. After a short walk into the woods, she found a spring with a fresh water pool. She knelt beside it to drink and gasped at the image that was reflected back at her from the surface of the water. She was a bedraggled mess. Her hair was knotted and she looked more like Medusa than the pirate captain she remembered. There was an ugly purple bruise on the side of her face and a cut across her forehead.
She decided that she needed a bath as well as a drink. She stood up and waded into the pool. She dunked her head under the surface and reveled in the cool refreshing water. Eventually, she drank.
Her next order of business was freeing herself. She found a rock outcropping and selected one of the jagged rocks that was just about hip level. She backed up to it and started moving her hands up and down, letting the rock saw through the ropes. It was slow work but, after an hour or so, she felt the rope split. She picked up the offending piece of rope and tied it around her wrist. It might be useful someday.
Robin spent the next two days gathering food and building a shelter for herself. She was even able to fashion some clothing using vines and a piece of burlap that had washed ashore. She was used to being naked but thought that she should have some clothes in case there were natives on the island.
By her fourth day, the bruise was gone and the cut had healed. She regained her strength and she felt clean thanks to her frequent visits to the little pool in the forest. She may still look bedraggled but at least she felt presentable. It was time to explore her new home.
For her first exploration, she stayed close to the shoreline. It turned out that she was on an island that was about two miles long and a half mile wide. It appeared to be heavily forested and hilly. There were plenty of coves and fresh water rivers leading to the beach. She would have plenty to eat and drink.
The next day she went inland and hiked up to the top of the highest peak. This might be a good place to set up her camp. It would also be a good place for a signal fire. She could see a ship of some sort off way off in the distance. She might be able to alert potential rescuers of her whereabouts. Of course, she might also attract the Spanish navy which would not bode well for her. She would have to think about that.
She started to hike back down the hill. As soon as the land leveled out, she got a surprise. A giant net lifted her into the air and trapped her. She was obviously not alone on this island.
"Good day, lady," said a male voice. A half naked man strode out of the woods and looked up at her. He had an English accent but the loincloth and his darkly tanned skin made him appear more like a native.
"Good day, Sir," she replied as she looked down at him from where she dangled in the air. "Your trap seems to have gotten me by mistake."
"Yes," he sighed as he started lowering her back down toward the ground. "That's the problem with traps. They do make mistakes now and again."