Jacqueline sat on her cot in silence, tethered to a wall, kidnapped for ransom. Her captor was happily asleep in his soft comfy bed, lulled off to sleep by the sweet lullaby of the ocean.

The makings of an idea for escaping formed in her head, although it wasn’t a great one. It was a three step plan.

Step 1 - Quietly, the Princess stretched out her body, trying to use the very, very tip of her toes to grab one of Captain Chatillon’s boots. Trying to ignore the harsh metal digging into the joint of her jaw, she still swung her leg about. Jacqueline kept the sounds of her discomfort to a low whimper.

Desperate to get any extra give out of the chain, she grabbed it and pulled. Somehow, while extended to her very limits, the tip of her big toe just barely touched the overturned boot.

With some effort, she dragged the smelly, dirty shoe towards her. Relaxing the chain and her body, the Princess examined the boot sole. It was thick, firm, and most of all, heavy. To her surprise, its front had a steel toe. Content, she placed the boot under the floppy lip of the cot and progressed to Step 2.

She pushed down on the collar, hard, letting it mar and bruise her skin to the point of tears. Jacqueline’s painful cries were muffled into mouse-like squeaks to stay quiet. Eventually, a rich red irritation of pain started to color her pale, flawless skin. For several minutes, she pushed her chest and neck into the contraption, marking and cutting it.

The Princess’s eyes were glossy with the soreness and her button nose was red from the sniffles as she tried suppressing the tears.

Finally, Step 3. After making her neck look exceptionally grizzly and abused Jacqueline sat up on her knees. The hem of her nightgown curved gently around the tops of her thighs. She adjusted the bands of her stockings just right, making sure the skin-to-lace ratio was alluring.

Then it was show time.

Jacqueline fussed with the collar loudly. It clattered and jingled, breaking the quiet of the cabin. With a stressed moan and more chain rattling, the Captain let out a snort at the disturbances in his room.

Again, louder, the Princess let out a groan at the sheer agony her collar caused, going as far as smacking the heavy chain against the wall, trying to get his sleepy attention.

This roused him slightly, enough to elicit a groggy “Shut up, woman” out of him.

“Captain,” she said with a soft pout, tugging at the metal, “It hurts.” Jacqueline spoke softly, hoping to lure the Captain closer.

Kyle flipped his body over, staring at her from the comfort and warmth of his pillow. Obviously still tired from the night before, his disposition didn’t look rejuvenated.

His eyes started at her knees and worked up to her thighs. They lingered at the small stripe of flesh that was between the lacy tips of her stocking and just before the hem of her white nightgown. Everything that needed hiding was hidden, just barely.

Teasingly.

Seeming to remember his goals, and the reason why a half-naked woman was in his cabin in the first place, Captain Chatillon snapped his eyes to Jacqueline’s face. However, that didn’t help shoo away the distractions now in his brain. Her face was soft and fragile, her blush pink lips had a soft pout to them, and her eyes looked pained.

They pleaded to him.

“It hurts,” she said again with a soft bite of her bottom lip, tugging at the chain, “The collar, it’s done a number on my neck.”

Rising angrily from his bed, Kyle sat up on the soft mattress, looking at her. “What do you want me to do about it?”

The Princess turned the lock towards him with another soft moan from her puckered lips. “Undo it? Just for a moment, to let my skin breathe? Please, captain?” she begged.

He weighed the consequences. Where was she going to go? It was a ship. Besides, beyond his door was a world of pain for Jacqueline.

“Do you promise to let me get some sleep?”

“Oh yes, captain, anything you need,” she said lowly.

Enjoying her kneeling, submissive form just one selfish second more, Kyle threw the blanket off and tiredly made his way over.

Blasted women and their difficulties…

As the Captain grumbled to himself, he sorted through the keys on his ring, sighing, examining one after another.

Still on her knees, Jacqueline looked up to him with pleading eyes, just level with his belt buckle.

“You shouldn’t look at a man like that in your current state,” the Captain remarked, never looking at her, turning over another key to get at the one under it, “…Eagerly.”

She slowly sat back, sitting her butt on her heels. She still stared up at him doe-eyed, completely disregarding his advice. Leaning back slightly, heaving out both her chest and the lock, Jacqueline grabbed a hold of the awaiting boot.

A dirty thought made him chuckle as he found the necessary key.

Yawning, the Captain knelt before her and took the padlock in his hand. Using his key, he easily unlocked the piece.

The soft click was the signal! Jacqueline swung the boot, toe first, right into the side of the Captain’s sleepy head. He fell away from her and the lock fell free. Standing up, she threw off the collar and bolted right for the cabin door.

The Princess swiftly hit the ground with a heavy thud. At her far end, Kyle had her ankle in a vice grip. To say that he was angry was a vast understatement. A single trickle of blood escaped from the wound on his temple.

He said nothing but breathed like bull, deeply in and snorting out.

“LET ME GO!” She kicked at him, trying to free herself. For all the effort, she had to get somewhere. Her escape wasn’t out of pride now - it was out of fear.

Kyle merely shrugged off Jacqueline’s kick. Unflinching, he snarled at the Princess, grabbing her other leg to make the madness stop. And still, he didn’t say a word.

Jacqueline yelped, clawing at the wood planks, trying to wiggle free, "HELP!" Well, that was a useless word here, on a pirate ship…

It felt as if she was being consumed, feet first, by quicksand.

The captain was seeing stars, but the rage and insult Kyle felt made his purpose crisp and clear. He dug his fingernails into her thigh, literally climbing her. Enraged and with a vein about to pop from his neck, Kyle’s teeth were clenched in a gnarly grin.

She swatted at him, now simply frightened for her life.

He, in every sense of the word, climbed on top of her. Straddling her back, he pinned Jacqueline face first into the floorboards. With an arm on the back of her neck and his knees on either side, she wasn’t going anywhere.

“I was being a gracious host and you hit me in the head with my OWN boot?!” Kyle yelled down at the back of her head. Blood slid down the curve of his jaw and dripped onto the white nightgown under him.

Jacqueline tried to push up, maybe throw him off, but she lived a life of privilege. Muscles were not necessary.

“Are you confusing my cordial behavior for weakness?” He pushed harder. “This can get bad, fast.” With his other hand the Captain found the very top of her lacy stocking and pulled it down revealing her bare thigh beneath.

Jacqueline cried out, turning her face to the side to look up at him, “I’m sorry!”

“I’m bleeding and now, under me, now you’re sorry?” he snapped, fishing off the rest of her stocking before peeling off the other. “I could throw you to the wolves and make this a real nightmare.”

She tried to shake her head, tears just on the corner of her eyes, refusing to bawl. Jacqueline tried to stay strong and not simply break out into a babbling, sobbing mess.

Leaning closer, Kyle placed the side of his unkempt face against her ear, making sure the Princess heard him, “I’ve come to find kingdoms still pay quite well for damaged goods.

Her teary eyes slid to look at his, “L-Look, I don’t know how to make it better.”

“I can think of a few ways,” he said almost inaudibly, blowing hot air on her cold ears while digging his prickly, unshaved face into her hot cheek. “You can start by slinking your way back over there and locking yourself up.”

And, as fast as everything else had happened, the Captain hopped off. Now, he stood to her left, arms folded.

Propping herself on an elbow, Jacqueline looked back up at him, slightly terrified, very much distressed. She looked to the chain and collar, then back to him.

“I’m waiting, Princess,” Kyle said, dabbing the blood on the side of his face, annoyed, “My men won’t ask you nearly as nicely.”

She let out a broken sigh and pushed herself to her hands and knees. Defeated, with half a stocking on, Jacqueline crawled to the cot.

Kyle watched, only turning his head to keep his eyes on her.

Taking the collar into her hands, the Princess looked up to him. He only nodded once, fiercely, with no room to argue.

Sitting on her legs, Jacqueline clicked it together, locking the padlock in place. Again she was tethered and now she was even more ashamed. Capturing herself... She took the hem of her nightgown and tried to pull it down over her knees to cover up her naked legs and blaring failure.

With a sneer Kyle left his cabin.

Out in the ocean air, his vicious mood dimmed. “Donavan!” he shouted up at the helm, to his first mate, "Did the falcon return yet?"

“Are you bleeding?” was what Donavan replied, rather than answer.

Kyle rolled his eyes, wiping the blood from his face, “Well?” He started up the stairs to meet him.

“No. No falcon, captain.” There was a slight thread of disdain at giving a man, maybe twenty years his junior, such a title.

“Odd,” Kyle muttered as he looked to the shoreline. They really weren’t as far off as he made Jacqueline believe. The silhouettes of buildings and fellow ships lined the horizon. Kyle then looked up at the sun. It was high noon already with zero response. That was uncommonly strange for such a situation.

“I heard some screaming, some pleas for help,” Donavan said, turning to look at his shoeless, bleeding captain. Kyle’s first mate was considerably older, having served with his father on the original Silver Ogre, “Have some fun with the merchandise?” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Displeased at the curt question, Kyle just flicked the drying blood flakes from his hand. “She tried to escape and I took care of it.”

“So, is that what you kids are calling it nowadays?”

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