Pirate Bred (Patreon)

Daisy Juke was about to kill herself. She could feel her life coming to an end, her body preparing for the inevitable. Each breath dragging, each heartbeat slowing. You would’ve thought it’d be exciting, shooting yourself, but she felt calm and at peace. This was at least better than the shame that had brought her low.

It was seeing Johnny again that had catalyzed her realization, brought into sharp relief how far she had sunk, but that process wasn’t over. Now she thought about how terribly unfair it would be to him to rip herself away from him just when he’d found her and she’d admitted to him her great passion for the man. He should at least be with her once—what difference would it make to her soiled purity now? And after all the other men and her haze of drunken debauchery… she wanted one real love to carry with her into eternity.

So she went out into the island to find Johnny, eventually seeing him wandering the footpaths through the bristling shrubbery and grasses, between the shooting palm trees—hanging vines and dangling clumps of moss a constant task for his hands to push aside as he maneuvered his tall frame through the narrow clearance. With him so occupied, it was easy for Daisy to come up behind him and turn him around.

Johnny was surprised more than threatened—clearly, her pureblooded pirate wasn’t used to people sneaking up on him unassumingly, then laying hands on him. He didn’t react with a clenched fist, though Daisy was somewhat used to that, but only looked, stunned, for the second time on Daisy’s clear, unmarred features in this unlovely place.

Her make-up was of native make, not the more subtle and flattering hues she could’ve found on the mainland, but he looked at her even more ardently than he had back in America. Daisy could only think that her admission of love had worked away some of the shyness about him. She laughed at his admiration of her and then was kissing him, It was some time before they stopped for breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do that sooner,” she said. “Not just back on the ship, but years back. Maybe someone like you, with buccaneer in your veins, could’ve understood me better than that society purebred Frank. Maybe not. Even now, I don’t feel you understand me… or maybe you do… oh, Johnny.” Tears came to a hot, angry boil in her limpid eyes. “Why couldn’t you have kissed me? Tried to take me from Frank… even been there when he was rid of me and my liquored mind couldn’t think of a reason not to go to you? I can’t regret what’s happened to me; it was always going to happen to me. But I wish you had been the first man to be with me. Even if you’d had to force me—I’d rather be forced by you, someone who knows what I really want, than…”

She couldn’t keep going, sobs making her young body quake like a ship in a storm.

“Than what?” Johnny asked haltingly, his joy at her having kissed him tempered by the fear of what she would say next. “Than the Portuguese?” He had to force the words out, terrible wrath and jealousy swirling in his guts to the point of nausea.

“Than him… and others,” Daisy said, hating to let loose more of her sordid shame, but she couldn’t lie to Johnny. “I’m sure you would never do such things, Johnny, even as a pirate… but he doesn’t have your gentleness. Not many men do, in this part of the world. Oh, it makes me grateful for the drink… that took away the worst of it, when it was bad. When I didn’t enjoy it,” she continued, her body quivering with shame and sadness. “Do you hate me now, Johnny? Do you see me now for what I truly am?”

Every distraught word made some of her guilt fall away from her. Johnny was looking at her, not like a slattern, but like some wounded damsel whose offense he would avenge. Deep in her subconscious Daisy was building a wall between who she had been and who she was now, with Johnny—reinforcing her own self-image with Johnny’s vision of her. She would not be that woman anymore. Like any old sinner, she had confessed what she had done, and received the forgiveness of Johnny holding her blameless!

But she had not anticipated how much more of a pirate Johnny was than a gentleman. His face contorted, blood rushing in to redden his features. It was not just rage and hatred over her, but jealousy at any who had enjoyed his rightful place as Daisy’s man. All his long-simmering, buried resentment of Frank was free to be let loose on the other men who had enjoyed Daisy’s charms.

“That filthy pig!” he choked out. “I’ll kill him. By sword or by lead, I’ll have him! I’ll write the dire nature of his crimes in the sea with all the pieces of him I throw to the sharks!”

He was actually starting to march away on a beeline to the Portuguese when Daisy grabbed his arm. She kept a tight, frightened hold of it. “Oh no, Johnny, you can’t! Don’t do it! He’s the leader here—he’ll kill you! Even if he doesn’t, you’ll have to damn half the island to hell before you get to him… then there’ll be no one to go with you to the Vulture!”

She was talking sense, but Johnny was not in the mood for sense. His rage was the only salve for the cureless wound he felt at the thought of Daisy’s despoilment. “I’m not afraid of that slob!” Johnny snarled. “And I’m not afraid of his men either! I’ll go through as many of them as I have to! I have no care for the Vulture! He’s done no harm to me or mine, except act true to his own low nature, and I’d do the same in his place!”

“No, no, you wouldn’t!” Daisy wailed. “You’re kinder than him, than any of them, more honorable! You’re a king among pirates—that’s why they all walk behind you! Don’t act like one of them! Don’t you see? You’ll squander your greatest advantage! I just couldn’t stand you getting yourself killed on my account… not for an unworthy sow like me!”

Her line of reasoning and maidenly insistence on being heard cooled her avenger’s anger some. He could only burn so hot when Daisy was speaking so sweetly to him, full of loving concern for his fate—acting with the worry and care of any girl for her best guy. He stood for a moment indecisively shifting his weight from one foot to another. Then he set his jaw firmly.

“What should it matter to you what I do?” he demanded. “I’m not your fellow. I’m a pirate. If it pleases me to kill the Portuguese, he’s as good as dead! If I should die in the attempt, what’s it to you? You’ve done without me well enough for plenty of time. And if you think there is something between us, then how could you tell me all that and not expect me to do something about it? Even a man with tap-water in his veins would get het up, hearing about a lady treated like that—how can you talk of your poorly blood and not know what mine would do?”

“I don’t know!” Daisy mewled, tears soiling her rouged cheeks. “I just needed to tell someone—anyone that might care! And I tell you that what I’ve been through has been nothing, nothing compared to being without you! Don’t make me be without you again, Johnny! Please don’t let me lose you and make it even harder for me than seeing you again!”

She sank down in a heap of dejected agony, her shoulders shaking from the sobs she could no longer hold back.

Johnny stood there a moment, not knowing what to do. For the first time, he felt split between the man he had been and this buccaneer his blood had called him to. The pirate would not take into account a woman’s words when action beckoned. But the man had put everything in loving Daisy… everything but the act, for the act was the pirate’s forte, his life now.

How could the pirate act at the behest of a man he no longer was? Yet how could any man ignore where he had come from? Daisy seemed as deep in his blood as the Jolly Roger—she called to him with a siren’s song as loud as the life that had drawn him in.

Finally, Johnny knelt down and awkwardly put his arm around Daisy’s shoulder. Although he would never want to see her hurt, he had dreamed of being her comfort countless times. And she clung to him so fiercely it seemed as if she had dreamed of that too.

They sat in inconsolable silence there on the loamy ground, surrounding by bursts of life, yet their bodies held the stillness of death. Daisy’s head rested on Johnny’s chest, his rangy arms locked across her back to lend every aspect of strength and protection that was his to give. And Daisy thanked him for it as best she could, running a hand affectionately up and down his spine.

“Maybe he can wait until after I’m done with the Vulture,” Johnny said, a small edge of excitement in his voice. “Or if I managed to get to the Vulture, then turn his men to my side, I could lead the Portuguese’s force into a trap…”

“Oh, let’s not talk about those things anymore,” Daisy whined, putting her hands over her ears. “Haven’t we talked about enough bad things? Can’t we take time to talk about goodness now?” She turned so that her head lay in Johnny’s lap, smiling up at him. “I think I’m figuring out what to feel about you, Johnny Lafitte. I’m not so ashamed as I once was of what I’ve been doing—now that I know it doesn’t mean so much to you. So now I’m just jolly that I’m seeing you again.”

Johnny’s heart leapt in his chest. For what seemed like his whole life, a night like this had been far more unbelievable to him than all the rest of his adventures. The girl he adored curled up in his lap, her big blue eyes seeing only him, wanting only him to protect her. Just then, he would gladly have fought off a whole jungle for her.

As Johnny watched, Daisy shifted to grow still more comfortable lying with him. Her proud breasts swayed inside the thin covering of her scant dress, moving as if alive. She was obviously wearing nothing underneath the fabric, her thick nipples all too visible through their flimsy concealment. The top three buttons of her dress had been left undone; Johnny’s eyes felt as though they were glowing as he moved them hungrily into her firm cleavage, imagining how the luscious slopes of her breasts continued down just out of sight.

Then, dawning horror as he realized that his prick was restlessly stirring, growing, while he stared down at the lovely vision nestled against him so intimately. Her head was in his lap. There was no way she couldn’t feel the hunger stiffening his manhood. And she did. Daisy’s cozily shut eyes now popped open in surprise. But when she looked up at him, it was with only tenderness.

She had been brutalized for so long; nothing more than a receptacle for the lust her succulent appearance generated. And she, too, had responded. There’d been passion, but no feeling, no true satisfaction. Now Daisy was in the arms of someone she loved, someone who could give her pleasure with no shame. She sensed that this was it—the thing that would wash the taste of her degradation out of her mouth and give her something tender to carry into eternity. She wanted to give herself unreservedly to Johnny, to feel all she could of being loved and of belonging.

Daisy felt something shifting inside her; a tension leaving her, as if in readiness for her to be taken. It was different than what she had felt with other men, even different than what she had felt with Frank. It wasn’t just her body accepting Johnny—it was something deeper, facets of her that had never before been eager for this. She wanted all of the handsome young man who was tantalizing her… she wanted him with all of herself.

Johnny had reeled inside, seeing Daisy register the feel of his twitching erection pressed up to her face as close as a kiss. He’d expected the shock that showed on her lovely face, but nothing could have prepared him for how her eyes slowly softened, relishing her knowledge of his reaction. Her arms crept up his body as she looked at him in open invitation.

“I want it too,” she said with a throatiness he’d never heard in her voice before.

Johnny couldn’t believe his ears. His first thought was that this was some sort of stock response, the reply that Daisy’s life had trained her to give to a man in his condition. So despite the horrid ache he felt in his loins, demanding relief, he loyally fought off the idea of taking advantage of Daisy as countless others had.

Daisy sensed the misplaced nobility that was denying him to her. “No. Not like the others. I mean it. Can’t you see I mean it? I want you, darling. I need you. Oh, take me, take me—please don’t shirk from showing me how you love me, not again! This is our last chance, Johnny. You have to make me yours… you have to!”