Well I have a Cindy and Pirate story from 1995 but I'm not sure it's the one you are looking for. The author is Simon333.
Subj: A pirate story Part I
Date: 95-04-07 23:16:28 EDT
From: Simon333
To: Majikuser, Tickleman1, RHaslage
To: Hexvirus, Logain100
Here's part 1 of the pirate story. It's real long - in three parts, so
I'll send them one at a time as I get the opportunity.
. . .
*************************************************
LONDON, 1867
Cindy walked along the parched streets of London. The drought had taken
hold during May, and hadn't abated halfway through July. London was a rainy
town; it's buildings and people were not prepared for such a long stretch of
dry weather. The searing heat which began at dawn each day did not help,
either. There had been numerous fires; there would be more.
Cindy worked, for twenty pounds a year, in a barrister's office hard by
Old Bailey. Twenty pounds was not much to live on, but it was enough to keep
her small flat and have enough food sent from the cookshop.
Cindy spent her days scribbling in ledgers, keeping the accounts and
greeting customers in the basement front office of Mr. Tarkington. She had
held the job for three years, and was constantly being promised that she
would "advance" in the world in due time. It had not happened yet. Cindy
was beginning to wonder if it ever would.
Cindy enjoyed the job, anyway. She came into contact with quite a few
men during the course of her days in the office.
Cindy had a very unusual taste for tickling. As the clients of
Tarkington came to visit the office, Cindy always found herself closely, but
discreetly, examining their hands. She would notice the shape and size of
the fingers, and wonder how those fingers would feel running up and down her
rib cage, stroking her under the arms, digging into the sides of her stomach,
or tickling her bare feet.
She had only acted on her desire to be tickled once, with her one-time
lover Jommy. It was clear to Cindy from the start that Jommy liked her; he
couldn't keep his hands off of her.
They had met at a play; one of Cindy's few delights in life was to take
in an evening at the theatre with some friends. It was expensive, though, so
she didn't indulge herself often.
Jommy was in the seat next to hers. They conversed between acts, and
finally, enjoying each other's company, retired to a public house where a
number of pints of ale loosened them up considerably.
Cindy invited Jommy back to her flat, where they ended up making furious
love.
They became constant companions after that. Jommy, a short fellow a few
years younger than Candy, had curly red hair, lots of freckles, and blue
eyes. Originally a Scotsman, he had come to London looking for work. Except
for occasional day jobs, though, he hadn't found any.
One night, Jommy had poked her in the ribs, to emphasize a particularly
vociferous point about modern life. Cindy jumped, which made Jommy smile.
"Tickly, are ye?" he said, and poked Cindy again.
Cindy laughed, and tried to wriggle away.
"Oh, no, ye don't," said Jommy, and jumped on her, tickling all up and
down her sensitive sides, reaching under and around her frock to tickle her
bare skin.
Cindy screamed with laughter. Jommy held Cindy's arm up over her head,
while trapping the other underneath his body. He began tickling her under
the arm unmercifully with his free hand.
After a few moments, he stopped and looked into Cindy's eyes.
"Ye're likin' this, aren't ye?" he said, smiling.
"I'm . . . I always wanted you to do this, Jommy!" said Cindy. "I just
knew you'd think me daft if I asked!"
"Nae, ye're not daft," said Jommy. "Me bruther was the same - he'd do
anythin' for a tickle, he would!"
"Would you . . . do it some more?" asked Cindy.
"Aye," said Jommy. "I'll tickle ye 'alf crazed, like I used to do to
lil Robbie when we was wee ones."
Jommy launched another tickling attack on Cindy's ribs and underarms,
running his strong fingers down Cindy's sides until she squealed in ticklish
delight. He tickled her neck, her ribs, her stomach while Cindy wriggled and
screamed with hilarity.
The two spent the night alternating between making love and sending
Cindy into paroxysms of ticklish laughter. At one point during the night,
Jommy tied Cindy to the bed and tickled her ribs until tears came to her eyes
and she screamed for mercy.
The next morning, when Cindy awoke, Jommy was gone. She found a note on
the mantel of her fireplace. It said :
"My dear Cindy,
Since you so obviously enjoyed last night, I
didn't have the heart to tell you that it
would be our last. I cannot find work here
in town, so I've shipped out. The merchant
ship Bonnie Brae leaves this morning at
six o'clock; I've signed on for this
journey, and perhaps for many more.
I may not see you again, but you will
always be in my heart and mind.
Affectionately yours,
Jommy
Cindy's life had been empty ever since a year ago when this had
happened.
*************************************************
On this already sultry July morning, she rounded the familiar corner on
which the office lay, sweating in her frock and wiping her forehead with her
handkerchief. As she approached the building, she sensed something wrong.
There was a smell of something burning in the air, but she saw no fire.
As she came closer, what had happened became clear to her. The building
where she worked had burned to the ground during the previous night.
As she stood there in shock, seeing the blackened timbers that were all
that remained, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
Startled, she turned and looked into the eyes of a man a few years older
than herself. She recognized him; he was a fairly wealthy ship owner who had
had considerable business with Mr. Tarkington.
"It's all gone, Cindy," Mr. Trill - for that was the name Cindy knew
him by - said, and patted her shoulder.
" What . . . happened . . .?" Cindy said, still not believing her eyes.
"The building burned during the night," said Trill. "They say the fire
was started by a lit pipe."
Cindy let the significance of this sink in. Tarkington smoked a pipe
constantly.
"Mr. Tarkington's gone, Cindy," Trill said, sadness showing in his
demeanour. "The business is gone, too, without him."
"My . . . work," Cindy said, her eyes filling with tears. "What am I
going to do?"
"It's not so bad as that, girl," said Trill. "You could come and work
on one of my ships. There's always need for a fine young lady like you as a
cook and maid for the captain."
That was the beginning of Cindy's new life.
END OF PART ONE**********
Subj: A pirate story part II
Date: 95-04-07 23:16:41 EDT
From: Simon333
To: Majikuser, Tickleman1, RHaslage
To: Hexvirus, Logain100
Cindy had been on board the good merchant ship King George for a month
now. She had become adept at cooking sailors' food and taking care of the
captain's few needs, and was no longer constantly seasick as she had been
during her first days on board.
The ship was sailing for India, and had made fairly good time . . .
within the next few days the boat would round the Cape of Good Hope and enter
the Indian Ocean.
The ship had a cargo of Chinese silk and porcelain, loaded aboard from a
merchant ship also owned by Mr. Trill, which had just arrived from the
Orient. This was common; the English were among the greatest traders in the
world, and London was the largest port. Nearly all goods were shipped
through the docks of London, no matter where they had come from or where they
were bound.
The King George had been built cleverly; the lowest deck had a false
bottom. Underneath this bottom was where the most valuable cargo was stored.
Access to the cargo was limited to one well-concealed trap door. One had to
know its location, and then perform a series of manoeuvres to open it. The
block of planking surrounding it was somewhat like a Chinese puzzle box; the
pieces needed to be removed in a certain way and order for the trap to open.
The particular way in which this was done was known only to the captain
and his first mate.
The ship was arranged this way to protect it from pirates, which roamed
the southern seas of the Atlantic at this time like predatory sharks. If the
ship was boarded by these criminals, it would be very difficult for them to
lay their hands on the riches.
Cindy had become well-liked by the crew. As the only woman on board,
she was a center of attention for them. She was a hard worker, and new
facets of her personality had opened like the petals of a flower in the last
few weeks. She joked with the men, told stories, and generally kept the
morale of the sailors high as their journey lengthened.
Some of this had come to the attention of the captain, but like many men
who had spent nearly their whole lives on the sea, he was unemotional and
businesslike around anyone on his ship.
*************************************************
In the middle of the night of their thirty-second day at sea, Cindy was
awakened by a knock on her cabin door
"Cindy," one of the sailors said as she opened her door. "You must come
up on deck. Night watch has spotted a ship, and the captain wants everyone
awake and ready."
Cindy slipped on her frock behind the door. She was instantly wide
awake. "Pirates?" she said, stepping through the door.
"Not sure," the mate said. "Best hurry."
Cindy stepped out on the upper deck of the boat. Sailors were running
about in confusion.
"Pirate ship off stabboard!" she heard someone cry. "Prepare for
boarding!"
Squinting her eyes off to the distance off the side of the ship, Cindy
could just make out the outline of another ship bearing down on them. As she
watched, it grew closer rapidly, and she could indeed see the Jolly Roger
flying from its mast.
It took an eternity for the ship to close in on them. By then, the crew
was prepared.
The ships were yards apart, and small boarding boats were being
dispatched by the pirates, full of terrifying men intent on robbery and
slaughter.
The first ship reached the King George, and the pirates showed their
heads over the side. They were met by a hail of rifle fire from the crew.
Suddenly, on the other side of the ship, screams rang out. The pirates
had outsmarted them; they had sent the bulk of their boarding boats to the
opposite side of the ship, which had not been well-protected.
The pirates swarmed the deck, and the crew of the King George was
quickly overwhelmed. Some crew members were thrown overboard, others shot.
Cindy, unarmed, could only watch helplessly. Finally, fear overcame
her, and she hid behind some of the large storage barrels on deck.
She hid for about half an hour, and then heard footsteps approaching her
hiding place. A bearded head peered around the corner of the barrel, and
immediately saw her.
"Cap'n! 'Ere's a wooman!" the man said.
She was seized by two men, who brought her roughly to the center of the
deck. Her hands were raised and tied in the rigging of the mainsail. Her
feet were bound together.
The pirates surrounding her cleared to make way for the captain. As he
approached, Cindy could see a short, muscular fellow wearing a black hat.
The face looked . . . familiar somehow.
"Jommy!" she cried. "It's you! You're the captain!"
Jommy - if indeed it was him - frowned and took a closer look at the
helplessly bound woman in front of him.
"My name's nae Jommy," the captain said. "Soonds like ye might know me
bruther, though - he looks a bit like me."
Cindy peered at his face through the gloom. The hair color and freckles
were the same, but the features did appear slightly different. The nose was
turned up more, the eyes slightly smaller and more cruel.
"You . . . must be Robbie?" she said.
"Nae more," the captain said. "I goes by the name of Cap'n Red now."
He approached Cindy even closer, until his face was inches from Cindy's own.
"And that's what ye'll call me," he said. "Now, doon to business, my
fine lady. We've nae been able to find the cargo this ship carries. Ye're
the only one who could tell us, I think. The captain's dead along with half
the crew. We just finished . . . discussin' this with one o' the others, and
he told us ye were trusted by all. I figure ye know how to get to the
riches."
"I . . . I know nothing . . ." said Cindy, knowing she would probably
pay for it.
Red poked her ribs hard. "Ye'll tell us soon enough . . ."
Cindy jumped when she was poked. A shudder went through her limbs.
"An' I think I know just how . . ." Red said. He had noticed the jump.
"Matty!" he called. "Come over here . . . and bring ye're tools."
A huge black man approached Cindy's helpless body. Cindy was amazed to
see two seagull feathers dwarfed in his enormous hands.
"Ye know what to do," said Red, smiling wickedly.
The man smiled, and held up the feathers for Cindy to see.
"Ya see dese feathers?" he said. "Da cap'n wants me ta torture ya a while
widdem."
Matty reached for the shoulder of Cindy's frock, and tore it off with
one motion. Her breasts, her ticklish underarms and ribs, and her sensitive
stomach were exposed.
He began running the feathers gently up Cindy's sides, and into her
ticklish armpits. Cindy shivered. It didn't tickle her very much, but she
knew that soon she would be squirming and screaming for mercy.
Matty continued to run the feathers over Cindy's bare, helpless torso,
concentrating on her breasts now. Her nipples hardened. After a while, the
tickling had a cumulative effect. Cindy shivered uncontrollably now, and
squirmed against her bonds. It was like water torture; all those feathery
little touches were beginning to take their toll on her body and mind.
Just when she thought she would go insane from the soft touches, Red
said to her, "Are ye ready to tell us anything?"
"I . . .I don't know anything," said Cindy.
"Then I think we'll stop going easy on ye," said Red. He looked at
Matty and nodded.
Matty smiled, dropped the feathers, and flexed his huge hands over
Cindy's chest. Cindy looked closely at them. They were monstrously large,
with nails as big as shillings. They appeared very strong. Cindy knew that
if those hands started to tickle her, she would be lost.
Matty began to tickle, hard, using all fingers and thumbs, right in the
middle of Cindy's ribs. Cindy immediately went into hysterics, squirming and
screaming with laughter. Matty's hands were roughly textured; it was obvious
that he was someone who had been working with his hands all his life. He was
also an expert at tickling; it was clear that he had done it before to
others. Those enormous hands could tickle all the way from the top of
Cindy's rib cage to nearly the bottom. Matty seemed to know the right amount
of pressure to use to send Cindy crazy with ticklish laughter, but not hard
enough to cause pain. Cindy squealed and screamed with hilarity. Matty
tickled without a stop for ten minutes.
By the end of that time, Cindy was weak with ticklishness. Tears were
running down her face, and her helpless body tingled all over. She hung in
the ropes, without the strength to stay on her feet. She had also become
very aroused.
The pirates had all been standing around watching her torture, laughing
at her plight. Red finally approached her again. "Are ye ready to talk to
us, ticklish one?" he said, poking his index fingers into Cindy's ribs.
"I . . .I'll tell you . . ." Cindy said hoarsely, her voice nearly gone
from forced laughter. "I'll tell you that the ship's cargo is below . . .
but I don't know how . . . to get to it."
Red's face darkened with anger. "I think ye DO know," he said. "And I
think yer torture is just beginning."
He snapped his fingers. Matty approached again, as well as a small
Asiatic sailor.
"Matty, Chan," the captain grinned evilly. "Do yer work."
Matty began tickling Cindy's ribs as before, while Chan put his small
hands into Cindy's armpits and began tickling in such a way that drove Cindy
wild. He didn't tickle very hard, but he was extremely accurate in finding
the most ticklish spots in Cindy's sensitive armpits. He kept changing, by
inches, the place where he was tickling, so that as soon as Cindy became used
to his touch in one location under her arms, Chan would move to find a new
spot that was as ticklish as could be.
Red stayed close by and watched the proceedings. He would yell, over
Cindy's screaming laughter, "Now, ticklish little girl? Now ye'll talk?"
Cindy couldn't have answered if she wanted to. She was being tickled
half to death! Her body squirmed back and forth, but she couldn't defend
herself in any way from the ticklish fingers all over her torso. She
screamed and squealed and wriggled.
Red snapped his fingers again. Cindy saw, through teary eyes, two more
sailors approach her bound body. One began tickling her neck; this was a
tall, curly-headed fellow with a devilish smile and long fingers. The other,
a short, stocky, Spanish man, began to tickle the sides of her stomach, just
below where Matty's enormous hands reached.
Red and the other sailors watched Cindy's increasing torture and
smiled. They would occasionally call suggestions. "Tickle her 'arder,
Matt!" one called. "She's turned bright red!" said another.
Red was apparently enjoying himself so much that he forgot the purpose
for the tickle-torture. He asked no more questions, but after a moment or
two sent two more sailors over. These men lifted up Cindy's legs, untied her
feet, and peeled off her shoes. They began tickling her bare soles, bending
her legs up and holding her feet in their laps while they sat behind her.
After what seemed like an eternity of tickling, Cindy didn't even know
where she was anymore. She was just a toy of these men; her only purpose for
existence was to be the tickled slave of these merciless sailors. She
couldn't remember her life ever being any other way.
Through a haze of tickled torment, Cindy saw another sailor approach the
captain and confer. Red listened, nodded, and held up his hand for Cindy's
torturers to stop.
"We've found the cargo," he said. "This ship is ours now . . . I'll put
on a crew of my men to sail it."
Red approached Cindy's body, reddened all over from the tickling.
Cindy was catching her breath, and could see the captain grinning at her
through the veil of tears that had been tickled out of her.
"As for ye . . ." he said. "I think my men enjoyed playing with ye . .
. so much so that I think I'll leave ye there so that all the others can take
their turn . . ."
END OF PART TWO*******
Subj: A pirate story part III
Date: 95-04-07 23:16:54 EDT
From: Simon333
To: Majikuser, Tickleman1, RHaslage
To: Hexvirus, Logain100
During the course of the night, other sailors did indeed take their turn
with Cindy's helpless, ticklish body. She had some occasional rests, though,
and as the sun began rising her eyes began to close in exhaustion.
Every tickle of the night had awakened a sexual fire in her; she was
amazed that none of the men had considered tickling some of the most
sensitive spots on her body with something other than their hands. Perhaps
it was the captain's orders, she thought, as she dropped off into a light
doze.
A few minutes later she opened her eyes to see one of the sailors
sitting in front of her. It was the tall one that had been tickling her neck
before.
She immediately came awake, and prepared herself for a new onslaught of
tickling fingers. He didn't rise, though, he just sat on the deck and smiled
at her.
"Good morning, my lady," he finally said. "You're looking a bit tired
out."
Cindy cleared her throat, and spoke in a voice that, for the first time
in hours, wasn't a scream.
"I'm . . . so worn. My hands hurt where they're tied, I was tickled out
of my mind . . . " she trailed off. "You'll not tickle me anymore, will
you?"
"No," said the sailor. "Not if you don't wish it. But I thought I
detected some enjoyment last night."
"Perhaps you detected some. But 'twas too much! I could not stand any
more."
He took out a sharp knife, which made Cindy wince in fear, but he only
reached up and cut the ropes binding her hands. Her legs could not support
her; she slumped to the deck. He came to her side, though, and before she
fell completely he caught her and lowered her gently down. He took her wrist
in his hand, and rubbed gently on the red marks where she had been bound.
"Oh! Sir, take care!" she said. "My wrists are very sore indeed."
"We'll need to get some salve on them," he said.
He looked deep into her blue eyes. "I'm called Simon," he said. "Does
my lady have a name?"
"I . . . I am Cindy," she said.
"That's a . . . rather unusual name," he said.
"I'm an unusual person," she said, and smiled. "Thank you for setting
me free."
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he said.
Yes, she thought, there is. She looked at him closely. He appeared to
be near her age, his brown and white curly hair was cut short in the front,
and fell in ringlets onto his shoulders in the back. He had hazel eyes, and
they were of a unique shape . . . almond rather than round like most
Englishmen. His deeply tanned body was muscular from working all day hauling
up sails and lugging cargo.
"I . . . I need rest . . ." she said. " . . . What about the captain?"
She looked around in fear. "Does he know you've done this?"
Simon laughed. "My lady, there was a small . . . mutiny two hours ago,"
he said. "He's returned to his ship. There was some objection amongst the
sailors concerning your treatment."
"He's gone?" Cindy asked again, in surprise.
"He is indeed gone," Simon said. "And we are taking this ship far away
from him. I am the new captain."
Her mind much more at ease, Cindy let Simon carry her to his cabin. He
rubbed an ointment on her wrists to alleviate the soreness, and then she
drifted into a deep sleep for hours.
*************************************************
When she awoke, the first thing she saw was Simon sitting by the side of
her bunk. He had apparently been sitting there for some time, watching her
sleep.
"What . . . are you doing?" said Cindy, sitting up. She noticed that
she was dressed in a large shirt. Her frock, repaired, hung by the end of
the bunk.
"Thou art beautiful in thy sleep," said Simon. "I was simply watching
and admiring your beauty."
Cindy, suddenly embarrassed, pulled the covers up to her chin. "Can you
leave now so that I may dress?" she said.
Simon nodded assent, and rose. He departed the room, closing the door
softly behind him.
Cindy dressed quickly. While she did this, her mind was filled with a
thousand thoughts. She found this new captain very attractive. How would he
react if she asked him to tickle her again, and also to make love? Would he
think her mad?
She went out on the deck to search for him. Why should she hesitate?
She had very little to lose. She would find him and ask him.
She passed by various members of the crew, most of whom smirked and
doffed their hats. She finally saw Simon, deep in conversation with a crew
member. She went and stood at his side.
"My lady Cindy!" he said. "What brings thee on deck?"
"Come with me, please," she said. "We need to talk."
Simon followed meekly behind her, while the crew members laughed.
"Methinks the captain's caught right out!" she heard a sailor say.
"Aye, I believe he is a man in love!" said another.
Cindy led him back to the cabin. She sat on the bunk, and he sat on the
floor facing her.
"Simon," she said. "Do you find me attractive?" She could barely
believe her boldness.
"Y-yes, my lady . . . very attractive," he replied.
"Why did you join in my torture last night?" she said.
Simon's face reddened. He looked at the floor. "I'm very sorry, Cindy.
I . . . I was taken by the heat of the moment. I . . ."
"Sh!" she said sharply. "Did you enjoy tickling me that way?"
"I . . . would not be truthful . . ." he said. "If I said I did not."
"Then . . . you did!" She looked at him with accusing eyes.
"I would have enjoyed it more if thou hadst been . . . willing," he
said, raising his eyes to hers.
"I am willing, Simon . . ." she said.
He looked up again in surprise.
"I am willing to have you tickle me . . . gently . . . and also to make
love to me."
"Cindy? Art thou . . . sure of this?" he said. He could feel his whole
body beginning to tremble with excitement. Simon also adored tickling, as
did Cindy, but did not like to force it on anyone as the former captain had
done.
"Very sure," said Cindy. "But first . . . I should like to tickle you!"
"My . . . lady?" said Simon, in confusion.
"You heard rightly, captain. Take off your clothes!" she replied,
smiling.
Simon slowly removed his clothes.
"Lay on the bunk," Cindy said. As soon as he lay down, she took his
hands, pulled them above his head, and bound them firmly to the piece of wood
at the top of the bunk. She did the same to his feet.
By now, just thinking about what was going to happen to him, Simon's
penis stood at full attention. Cindy noticed, and ran her nails along the
shaft.
"We'll pay a bit more attention to that shortly," she said, and then
attacked his ribs with tickling fingers as hard as she could.
He immediately bucked against the ropes, and laughed loudly and
hilariously. She kept tickling; his laughter turned into squeals of delight.
His face reddened. She moved up to his sensitive underarms, and began
running her nails over their length. He screamed with hysterical laughter.
She moved down to his helpless feet, and began tickling them from the
toes to the squirming heels. He was even more ticklish there; his entire
body shivered in time with her strokes. His peals of laughter filled the
room. She was sure anyone on the ship could hear him.
"Don't make so much noise!" she said, "Or I shall have to find something
to put in your mouth!"
She stopped tickling for a moment and looked at him.
"My . . . lady," he said, between caught breaths. " I have a
suggestion as to what it might be, if you would remove your clothes."
Cindy smiled, stood, and removed her frock.
"Now what would that be, Captain?" she said, as she climbed on top of his
helpless body.
"Well, your . . ."
"These?" she said, cupping a breast in one hand. " I cannot tickle you
then, sir, you would bite me!"
"If you tickle me softly . . ." he said.
Cindy lay down on top of him, her luscious breast near his mouth. She
began running her fingers around his stomach, barely touching. He moved his
head slightly and caught her nipple in his mouth. He circled it with his
tongue.
Cindy moaned. It was a new and exciting experience for her; having a
completely bound and helpless man giving her sexual gratification. She found
it aroused her even more.
She moved to put her other breast near his head. Simon repeated his
motions, and began to suck gently.
Cindy could wait no longer. She stood up, and placed the lips of her
vagina over Simon's engorged penis. She began to move up and down slowly on
top of him, and he began to move in return. It felt wonderful inside of her
. . . she knew it wouldn't be but a few moments before she had an orgasm.
And Simon . . . ?
She knew what to do. As close as she was to collapsing in complete
ecstacy, she put her hands over his ribs and began tickling, running her
fingers from under his arms, all down the sides, and over the ticklish bones
in the front.
Simon began writhing again, but the tickling had transported him . . .
it had changed from something that made him laugh to something that aroused
him no end. After just a few seconds, he came to orgasm, his body squirming
in ecstacy as he still lay tied and helpless.
Cindy began to climax nearly as soon as he did. She could feel the
orgasm from her toes (which curled and flexed), to her fingertips (which kept
tickling Simon). She shuddered, still sitting up on Simon's erect penis,
closed her eyes, and enjoyed the delicious release which seemed to last
forever.
She slowly pulled herself up, until Simon's penis was all the way out
of her, and lay down beside him in exhaustion. She kissed his neck, and
cuddled her body close to his.
"My lady . . ." he said. "That was most wonderful. How did you know to
. . . ?"
"To tickle you to a climax?" She finished his question. "Because . . .
that's what I would have liked . . . "
"Mayhap we can do this . . . Are you going to untie me, Cindy?" said
Simon.
She looked at him and smiled. "Not quite yet, sir," she said. "I may
want to play with you a bit more."
She did play for a few minutes more, tickling his toes with a feather
she had found, and stroking it along his limp shaft until it became hard
again.
She finally untied him, and submitted herself to be bound, gently but
firmly, to the bunk. Simon found another feather, and used both all over her
helpless body. She was aroused yet again. He used the feathers up and down
her thighs, and gently used his fingers to gently tickle her delicate rib
cage. He moved down to her feet, and ran his nails softly in the ticklish
arches, sending her into hysterics. He held back her toes so that her soles
were stretched tightly, and proceeded to tickle unmercifully for a few
moments; just enough to send her into hilarious bouts of laughter while her
whole body tingled.
He picked up the feathers again, and began running them all over her
breasts, concentrating on the nipples. This changed the tone of the tickling
for her; it was more stimulating than ticklish.
Finally, he gently parted her soaking vagina, and used the very tip of
the feather to tickle her sensitive clitoris.
These sensations drove Cindy wild. She squirmed against the ropes and
moaned. Her whole body shook. Finally, she wriggled herself into another
orgasm. This one was even more intense than the previous; she screamed and
writhed and shivered, all at the same time.
When she was done, Simon loosened the ropes, and they lay in each
other's arms.
"My lady Cindy . . . " Simon finally said. "This ship is bound for no
port . . ."
"Are you saying that I cannot depart the ship?" she replied.
"No time soon, my dear," said Simon. "To make our living as pirates, we
must stay on the open sea . . ."
"Good!" said Cindy, and closed her eyes.
THE END
