At Her Pleasure

“The British government. They’ve talked about building an airstrip here for years, but nothing’s come of it.”

“That treasure’s been down there for three hundred years. Are you sure no one’s recovered it before now?”

He nodded. “Pretty sure. It’s hard to keep a find like that secret.”

“Then there’s no reason to believe Ian’s after it, or that he even knows about it.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll try to be nicer to him next time we meet.”

“We should invite him to dinner,” Nicole said. “I’ll bet he’s lonely.”

Adam laughed. “Did you see the look on his face when he saw you? Pretty impressive boner you caused.”

She stuck her tongue out at Adam, but she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t a little bit flattered. Seeing Ian’s reaction to her had given her an inkling of the power Passionata was talking about. And Ian was a very good-looking man. Someone who could make her time on the island that much more interesting.

“What are you going to do this afternoon?” she asked Adam, changing the subject.

“I’m going to do some snorkeling, try to pin down the most likely location of the wreck. I’ll take the Zodiac out. Do you want to come with me?”

She shook her head. “No. I think I’ll stay here on the yacht and read. I came to relax, after all.”

“Okay. But tomorrow I want us to go diving.”

“We can do that. Tomorrow.”

After lunch he inflated the Zodiac, fired up the motor and took off across the lagoon. Nicole brought her book out onto the deck and pulled a chaise into a shaded spot under the canopy. At last she could continue Passionata’s adventures, and learn more about her approach to male/female relationships.

The story has been told of how I and my crew, like the Sirens of legend, would lure sailors to the rocks and their undoing. When these lonely men, long at sea, would spy our fair forms reclining near the sea, most seductively arrayed and beckoning, they seldom resisted long. Even after word of the hazard we posed passed among the sailing crews, they were loathe to avoid us. Indeed, it is said many sought us out, though their defeat was inevitable.

What has not been told—until now—is what happened to those men who survived the wreck and battle. The fate of those who became our prisoners. The bravest and best of these became our slaves and courtesans. They served at our pleasure, as women have been made to do for centuries. But this time the women were in charge, and the men were at our mercy.

They were wont to resist at first, but soon learned the futility of this. And more than a few discovered a taste for subservience. For though they had been raised to always be in charge—in control—they discovered the erotic nature of surrender.

The chapter ended, and, breath quickening, Nicole turned the page and found the narrative interrupted by a note from the editor.

Though Confessions of a Pirate Queen first appeared as a serial printed in the London Times in 1715, the following portion of the original manuscript was deemed too obscene for public consumption, and was unknown for more than two centuries, until an original of the entire document was discovered in the London Times’s archives in 1993.

Here, Passionata’s narrative resumed:

When a woman is in control of a relationship, everything changes. No longer is she at the mercy of a man’s wishes and desires, subjugating her own wants and needs to his timetable. Now he must serve her desires. And, as the men who served the women of Passionata’s Island soon discovered, a woman in charge of her own sexual destiny discovers a true flowering of desire, and a capacity for sexual pleasure heretofore unknown.

It is an arrangement of benefit to both man and woman—as illustrated by the story of William D., a sailor who came to Passionata’s Island in the summer of 1707.

“We have the prisoners ready to present to you, madame.” My lieutenant, a dusky woman who had taken the name of Determinata, appeared in the doorway of my tower headquarters the morning after our most recent conquest of a British merchant vessel. The vessel had been carrying a cargo of gold bullion, silver coins and exotic spices, and we had spent a good part of the night securing the wreckage. Today the divers would begin retrieving the spoils from the hold and adding them to our stores.

“How many today?” I asked. It had been a large ship, but the battle had been fierce. The sharks would have feasted well last night.

“Seven. One is only a boy, but the others…” Determinata smiled. “There are some very fine specimens here.”

“Then I must see them.”

I followed her down the stone staircase and out into the plaza in front of the tower. It was a fine day, hot and clear. The men stood bare-chested, hands bound behind their backs.

One caught my eye. He was lean and tall, with the dark hair and fair skin of a continental. I stopped before him and he looked me in the eye, defiant. He was well muscled, with a fine dusting of black hair across his chest, narrow hips and strong legs. “What is your name?” I asked.

I could read in his eyes that he thought of not answering. But I kept my gaze on him, unflinching, and at last he said, “William.”

His accent was British and upper class. Perhaps the son of the ship owner, or a nobleman or tradesman who had purchased passage. Looking into his eyes, at the spirit there, I felt the heat build inside me. “William, you will come with me,” I said, and turned to walk back to my tower.

“Why should I come with you?” he asked, his tone haughty.

I didn’t turn around. I liked the question, but there was no hesitation in my answer. “Because if you don’t, one of my lieutenants will shoot you, and that would be a waste of good flesh.”

I anticipated he might need more persuading, but after a moment’s hesitation, he fell into step behind me. I kept my back to him, hoping he wouldn’t be foolish enough to try to overpower me or to run away. My guards would be watching him and they would shoot to kill.

But he made no such attempt and soon we were alone in my tower room. I bade him sit, and had one of my other servants, Marcus, bring him water and bread. William eyed the man with distaste. “Is this what you intend for me?” he asked. “To make me your slave?”

“The choice is yours,” I said, but explained no further. He would choose his own role here—slave or courtesan. I wanted him for my bed, but if he was unwilling, I would not force him. Men overpower reluctant women with rape. I preferred to use my sexual prowess to teach men the advantages of accepting my superiority and command.

While he ate, I made myself comfortable, divesting myself of my outer garments, revealing the sheer silk undersheath. I unbanded and combed out my long hair, all the while acting as if he was no longer in the room. I loosened the straps of my gown and rubbed scented lotion into my shoulders and across the top of my breasts, caressing myself, watching in the mirror as he watched me.

And he was indeed watching me, the remainder of his meal forgotten. One glance showed me the tightness at the front of his trousers. Yes, this one would make a good courtesan.

“Do you like what you see?” I asked him.

The question startled him. He snapped his gaze away. “Who would like being a prisoner?”

“In the world beyond this island, every woman is a prisoner—of her father or her husband or of the rules society has laid out for her. Most have learned to live with it.”

“But you did not,” he said.

“I did not. I have made my own kingdom, with my own rules.”

“And now the men are prisoners,” he said, frowning.

I nodded. “But it is not such an unpleasant existence for them, I tell you.”

He made a noise like a growl. I ignored him and sat on a high stool across from him. The light from the window was at my back, making my gown almost transparent. I wanted him to know what awaited him if he was willing.

I could feel his eyes burning into me, and imagined that same heat coursing through his body, into mine. “Are you trying to seduce me?” he asked after a moment.

I laughed. “Of course.” I leaned toward him, my breasts straining against the front of my gown. “Do you want to be seduced?”

He looked at my breasts, then back into my eyes. “What happens if I say yes?”

“That is part of the excitement, isn’t it?” I leaned closer still, and lowered my voice to just above a whisper. “But I promise, I have had no complaints yet.”

His eyes locked to mine, and tension radiated from him, vibrating the air. “What do I have to do?” he asked, his voice roughened by desire.