The Pirate Princess

Punishments and Surprises

The cool salty breeze of the ocean is cold against my bare back. The back of my dress was torn away, leaving me very exposed. The ropes around my wrist bite my skin with every move I make. The crew has gathered around to watch as I recieve my lashes, as if I were a side show freak brought to entertain them. Many of them make kissing faces and inapropriate gestures at me. I ignore them and avert my gaze towards the hall that I am tied to, waiting for the pain to begin. The crowd whoops with delight as I hear the thuds of Scars boots againts the deck. The jingling of the cattials, like windchimes on a windy day, make me steel myself for the coming onsluaght of my skin. The whips themselves hurt enough, but cattails are whips that have pieces of glass wraped into each seperate whip at varying intervals. They not only sting but also rip out chunks of skin if they get loged too deeply into the flesh.

The crowd falls into a hush. I hear the whistle of the whip flying through the air as it makes its way toward my awaiting exposed back. The pain is like a flower and a wild fire, a small blossom of pain blooms into a huge flame that spreads throughout my backside. I feel the blood already starting to trickle down my back. Then the whip is pulled out of my flesh with a sickening ripping sound, and I grit my teeth, telling myself that I will not scream out in pian. I will not give them the pleasure of seeing me in pain. The crowd cheers as Scar pulls back his arm to deliver the next blow. My back screams with pain as the whip finds its mark. A low growl threatens to escape my throat as the whip is ripped from my flesh, and brought down again three more times.

I think to myself, "That's five. 34 more to go." The whip bites into my back again, making me loose my train of thought. The crowd cheers as my blood drips off of my back and onto the deck.I think to myself, "I know that as soon as we reach ten they will have to wipe off my back. If I can just last until then maybe I can persuade the captain for less. It's worth a shot." I listen to the whips whistle before it embeds itself into my flesh. This time I let my scream fly from lips, the crowd cheers at the sound. "3 more" I think. I let tears roll down my cheeks. I want the captain to think I'm sorry for my disrespect. I want him to think that I will behave and belong to him.

The whip flys again, one of the peices of glass embedding itself into the skin close to my neck. When Scar pulls it out the pain is too great. My back errupts into flames, while a dark haze appears on the edge of my vision. I scream as my body crumples to the deck floor. The ropes around my wrists break the skin and my blood pours over them, running down my arms. I somehow get into a kneeling position, awaiting the next blow. I don't have to wait long. It flys, I hear the whistle, but there is no pain. There is only a slight tug as it is pulled from my back. The next comes flying toward my back, the wind so loud as if we were flying through the sky. It bites my back and I feel it this time. I scream as tears rush from my eyes. My body folds in on itself and my vision goes black for a few seconds.

I look up to see the Captain at my side. He grabs my hands and takes out a dagger, the blade shining in the sunlight. I scream and struggle to get away from him. He says something but I don't understand. Next I'm being held down by the crew as the captain cuts the ropes from my still bleeding wrists. My sight fades out again, and when I open my eyes the Captain has me in his arms. I look down and see that I am wrapped in a cloth. I rest my head against the Captains chest and let myself drift into a dark oblivion.

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I wake up with a jolt. The sudden movement makes my back blossom with fresh pain. I fall backwards gasping for air, trying to subdue the pain. I glance at my surroundings. I'm laying in a soft bed with linen white sheets and a deep blood red blanket. The walls have paintings of old captains standing in front of the ship dressed in their uniforms. My eyes fall upon the chair sitting beside the bed. In it sits the Captin, passed out. His face scruffy with 5 o'clock shadow and his eyes closed, though they had bags underneath them. He breathing is slightly ragged, but other than that he is deeply asleep.

I look down to see that there are bandages wraped around my midsection with a soft white shirt draped over my shoulders to help cover other areas. I have nothing else on besides my undergarments. I shift my legs underneath the blanket and feel the soft sheets rub against my bare skin. The rustle of the sheets wakes up the Captain. He jolts upright in the chair and looks at me.

We just sit there looking at each other. Finally he gets up and walks over to a dresser I hadn't seen earlier. He opens a drawer, pulls out a nicely folded pile of bandages, and returns the drawer back to its former position. He then walks back over to the bed and sits down. He moves his chair closer to me and reaches out. I dodge his hand and crawl to the far side of the bed. He seems tired and slow but still my defiance makes him angry. He glares at me and then does something unexpected. He grabs the corner of the sheets and pulls them. I slide to the side of the bed, my legs tangled in the sheets. He grabs my left leg and yanks me off of the bed.

I land with a jarring thud and my back screams with refusal. The pain of the fall darkens the edges of my vision as I take deep breathes until it subsides. I try to move my back but find that it's less painfull to lie still. The Captain sits on my back and starts to unravel my bandages. I struggle against his weight, but he doesn't budge an inch. I finally give up and let him peel the layers off.

When the final bandage was peeled away the room smelled of fresh blood and iron. Finally, sick of the silence, I asked, "So what's your name?" Silence... "What am I supposed to call you? Captain?" More silence. I sigh giving up on conversation. He wraps the fresh bandages around my abdomen, carefully tucking the end into an earlier layer. He picks up the old bandages and gets off of my back.

"I'll send someone with food. I expect you to treat them with the same respect you showed me," he says as he walks to the door. I look up from the floor and repeated my earlier question. He acts as if he doesn't hear me, doesn't even look at me. Then when he reaches the door he places his hand on the handle, he looks back at me, his icy eyes seem less cold, and says in an icy cold voice, "You're to call me Captain Sparks when around the crew." He stops. After a moment a sad look passes over his features and then he continues, his voice a barely an audible whisper. "Skylar, is my name." With that he pulls the door open and slams it shut behind him.

I sit on the floor for a moment, and diguest what has just occoured. After that I carefully pull myself off of the floor and lay on my belly on the bed. The pain has subsided and my thoughts are clearing. About a half hour later there's a soft knock on my door.