Changed Redux Pt. 08

That bizarre explanation delivered by a strange voice that was apparently in her head shocked Emily's mind back to some semblance of function and she rolled her eyes down to the ring on her finger as greater terror bubbled up inside her. What is this thing? With an extreme effort, she managed to move enough to grab the ring and pull. It was stuck fast. What the hell is this ring doing to me? She thought frantically as she tried again to pull it off. The ring still wouldn't budge from its place no matter how she pulled. As she fought with the ring she began to realize that the heat inside her was starting to build rapidly. "I don't... understand," Emily mumbled.

"The ring is magic." Marcellene said, her voice sounding breathy. "By putting it on, you will gain all its powers. But first... this..." The woman in her thoughts moaned softly then continued. "We will be as one."

She felt her cheeks heating with both her rising passion and intense embarrassment as hot, liquid pleasure welled up in her center. The sensations quickly built to the highest level she had ever known then continued to build even higher. Emily fell forward, dropping heavily to the deck, hardly noticing the pain of the impact as wave after wave of bliss rolled through her, driving her ever higher. The idea that a woman was somehow inside her head, apparently sharing the same sensations was shockingly arousing to Emily and she groaned. Finally, with sudden, frightening intensity, her core contracted and the most powerful orgasm she had ever imagined tore through her body. She felt every muscle in her body tighten, her back arching like a bow as delicious, searing, rapture consumed her soul.

The woman in Emily's mind let out a piercing cry as she shared Emily's rapture. The sound of another woman's pleasure, sensual and forbidden, drove Emily even higher. Emily found herself imagining what the other woman might look like. Her naked body gleaming with sweat, head thrown back, breasts thrust out, eyes closed, mouth open as cries of pleasure filled the air. A woman in rapture was... beautiful. So beautiful.

Emily opened her mouth to scream but the air was locked in her throat, her entire body rigid as iron. She sprawled helpless on the wooden deck, climax after climax crashing over her. Sweat soaked her brow as she thrashed, her muscles jerking and spamming under the never-ending assault of the relentless pleasure. She managed to cry out but rather thin a scream all that escaped her lips was a thin, wailing cry as the darkness closed around her.

Just as she was slipping under, she heard Marcellene whisper, "Mistress..."

Blinding light flooded Emily's mind and distant, barley understood words drifted through her mind as the living world slowly came back to her. With some effort, she forced her eyes open. It took her several moments to recognize the face that was smiling down at her. Big, brown eyes, dark brows, ebony skin... Captain Wilhelmina Gunne. What...?

Emily tried to sit up but even that slight movement sent sharp bolts of pain lancing through her head and she moaned.

"Woah, easy there. You already ended up on the floor once, no need to try it again." Captain Gunne said, voice a little tighter than it had been on deck. She helped Emily sit up and make her way over to the bunk. Once Emily was seated the Captain asked, "So what happened?"

Emily shook her head and looked down, when she did her eyes landed on the ring and she gasped, remembering it all. The pleasure, the pain, the... that... woman, that sorceress, talking in her head. Feeling suddenly lost, lonely and terribly afraid, Emily broke down and started crying.

Perhaps thinking it was a reaction to the battle, the Captain wrapped an arm around Emily and in a surprisingly tender gesture, pulled her close and held while she cried.

The strength and heat of the Captain's body against her own slowly seeped into Emily and after a few minutes, she turned to look up at the taller woman. When she did her breath hitched in her throat. How had she not noticed before how breathtakingly beautiful this woman was? The eyes that before Emily thought were just dark with wry humor were now glittering bottomless pools filled with a vast inner strength and cunning intelligence. The lips that before were grinning with amusement now looked full and sensual. This wasn't just a pirate before her. This was a leader. A woman who was charismatic, powerful, skilled and... Emily swallowed hard... and absolutely breathtaking.

Feeling confused and shaken at these strange new and wholly unexpected feelings, Emily tore her gaze from Wilhelmina's face and looked down. When she did her eyes fell on the vast expanse of the woman's cleavage that was on full display just inches under her nose. Arousal, sweet and hot, instantly surged through her veins. Emily had to stifle a moan at the instant rush of pleasure at the thought of how wonderful those breasts must feel.

Feeling panicked at her own reaction to another woman, Emily abruptly pushed away from the Captain and stood up, crossing the small cabin to stand before the windows looking out over the ship's stern wake. "I... I... I'm sorry. I just...I'm... I'm not feeling very, uh...very well." She stammered as her mind reeled. "It's been a... difficult few weeks." Then without really knowing why, Emily found herself rambling on for the next few minutes, telling the woman, this stranger, about her life. About her husband, his business, their trip to the West Indies, his death, the Governor taking everything, her being handed over to the Captain of the Parrot and her treatment at the hands of the crew.

Finally, despite her every intention not to, she told the Captain about the ring and what happened when she put it on...most of it. She did manage to control her rambling enough to at least leave out the part about the blistering pleasure and the whole string of mind shattering orgasms.

Throughout the entire telling, Captain Gunne sat respectfully listening, her eyes full of sympathy at the telling of her husband and anger at how Emily had been manhandled ever since. When Emily talked about the ring, Wilhelmina's eyes narrowed suspiciously and she glanced repeatedly to the simple iron band that was now stuck to Emily's finger.

"Someone spoke to you, you say?" The Captain asked, taking Emily's hand and studying the ring. "A ghost?"

"Yes. She said her name was... Marcelle, or Marleen or... uh... something like that. She... wait, did you say a ghost?" Emily asked. She hadn't really considered that the voice in her head might be some kind of ghost.

"A soul with no body? What else would you call it?" Wilhelmina asked.

"I... " Emily hesitated, "I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it like that." Emily said as a chill ran up her neck. Even though the difference was probably semantics, a trapped spirit sounded a whole lot better to her than a ghost. Especially if it was now living in her head.

As Emily spoke, Wilhelmina looked directly into her eyes and she began to have the uncomfortable sensation of falling into their cool, liquid depths, drowning in the Captain's strong essence. She couldn't seem to look away. She realized the Captain was still holding her hand in a solid but tender grip and that her own hand was starting to tremble.

"So, a ghost bound to an enchanted ring?" The Captain broke the eye contact, freeing Emily. "Sounds like powerful magic to me."

Emily came back to reality and she snorted nervously, "Magic? No. It can't be. You must be joking." She shook her head, now deeply regretting telling the other woman about the ring. Hearing the telling of what happened coming from her own lips made her realize just how ridiculous the whole thing sounded. "It must have been a dream or something." Emily said finally. "Or a hallucination from the stress. I don't know... something."

"But the ring is still on your finger." The Captain said after a moment of consideration. "Take it off."

"Ok," Emily said then tried. After a minute of struggle, she admitted defeat. "I can't. It's stuck fast."

"Let me see." The Captain said, taking Emily's hand. After a few seconds, she said, "The ring is not that tight. It should slip off with no trouble." She tried as well but the ring refused to come off. Finally she said, "The reason it does not come off is because it does not wish to come off."

"That's absurd." Emily scoffed.

Captain Gunne eyed Emily, "There are many powerful magics in the world. People have forgotten much of them, but they are still out there for those that know where to look."

"Sorry," Emily said, "but I don't believe in magic."

"Ok." The Captain asked, her dark eyebrows raised in challenge. "Then what is your explanation?"

"It could be... uh..." Emily faltered. The truth was, she didn't have a clue what had just happened to her. It was all just so... weird. She racked her brain trying to think of some other explanation and was about to admit defeat.

Magic?

Or perhaps she was just going crazy.

She didn't really feel insane but supposed that most lunatics didn't feel crazy either. In their minds, it was everyone else that was messed up. So if she was going insane how would she know? Maybe she already was crazy?

Stop it! She barked at herself and told herself to stop being stupid. Deal with one problem at a time and stop looking for more trouble. There is more than enough trouble here already.

She looked down at the ring and could swear in that instant that she thought she saw the engravings glow with a faint, bluish white light. It was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared but she was all but certain it had been there. She studied the intricate engravings more closely and began to wonder if perhaps the Captain was right. Maybe it was magic. Could it be? No, it couldn't. Magic wasn't real... was it?

"I don't know." She said quietly. As her mind struggled to make sense of what was happening the room began to spin slowly. Emily swallowed hard. What little composure the day had left her with was rapidly abandoning her and she started to tremble. "I don't know." She whispered again as a tear rolled over her cheek. "Magic? A ghost? I just..." She looked into Wilhelmina's dark eyes, feeling so lost and alone, "I don't know." Her body sagged forward as her overtaxed mind began shutting down under the strain.

Seeing her crumbling, Captain Gunne caught her up gently and laid her in the bunk. "Get some rest, my lady." She pulled up the blanket and turned to leave.

"Wait," Emily said.

The Captain turned, "Yes?"

When those dark eyes fell on Emily, her breath caught in her throat and she was again taken by how completely enchanting the woman was. Tall, strong, confident, intelligent and breathtakingly lovely. The ring on her finger flared with energy and a surge of desire flared in her core. Emily's world shifted. She is so beautiful. Emily thought to herself, I need her.

There was a sudden thump to the air and Emily's bones rattled. She looked around in alarm but the Captain didn't even seem to have noticed. Emily opened her mouth to ask about it but a wave of fatigue crashed over her and the world started to go gray.

"Rest now, my lovely. You're safe with me." The Captain said gently.

Emily was asleep before the door clicked closed.

Life on the Lis Noir was a new experience for Emily McAllister. She had been on only two ships before, one was the ship that carried her and her husband across the Atlantic, the second was the trader that she had been a captive aboard. Both had been merchant ships though the first was far superior in just about every regard.

The Lis Noir, which she was told was French for Black Lily, was unlike either of those two. According to the Captain, the ship was a brigantine which made her fast but more importantly able to sail closer to the wind which was important in their line of work. The Noir was a bit smaller than the merchants but its crew was actually larger which surprised Emily until Wilhelmina explained. As a privateer, this ship was essentially a mercenary naval vessel working for the French. As such, this ship was outfitted closer to that of a military ship than a trader. More crew and more cannons gave them a better chance of taking larger prizes.

Emily also found out quickly that despite being a woman, Captain Wilhelmina Gunne was in absolute command of this vessel and it's crew. Not once did she observe any crew member shirking a task while she was on deck.

Their performance may also have had something to do with the ship's Quartermaster, Mister Donnavan, who actually managed much of the day to day operation of the ship. Emily had no idea if Donnovan was his first name or his family name and when she asked, she was a little surprised to find out that no one else, not even the Captain, knew either.

He was a compact, thick built man who was almost as short as Emily but who's shoulders were easily twice as wide. His clean-shaven face was weathered as old leather and his huge eyebrows looked like gray scrub brushes over his pale blue eyes. Arms thicker than Emily's legs ended in giant hands, one of which was always holding an old oak belaying pin that he banged on the railings whenever he yelled at a crew member, which was often.

Emily had been terrified of him the first day but he had, so far, been unfailingly courteous to her, calling her Miss Emily and always giving her a small bow whenever he addressed her. It was odd behavior to see coming from such a rough sounding man and Emily began to wonder where he hailed from and what his history might be. His accent was British but with an odd timber she couldn't quite place.

Emily also noted that ever since the Captain had found her on the floor that first day, the woman had been giving Emily a surprising amount of attention. At times Emily even wondered if perhaps the Captain might have an interest in her but dismissed the notions as foolish. The Captain was another woman, such thoughts were blasphemy.

Or at least that was what Emily told herself at least a dozen times a day since coming onto this ship. She said it every time she caught herself admiring the enigmatic captain just a little too much.

At first, she dismissed the unfamiliar feelings as some side effect of whatever had overtaken her when she put the ring on. But as time passed it became increasingly difficult for her to say even to herself that she wasn't becoming attracted to the Captain. During the first days, she managed to at least partially succeed. However, it quickly got more difficult and the nights were a different story entirely.

Ever since slipping the ring on, Emily's nights had been filled with lurid dreams of sapphic debauchery that left her feeling confused and violated in the morning but also intensely aroused. All of the dreams involved only other women, many she knew, a few who were apparently just figments of her imagination. Of the women she knew, a small number involved her former maids from back home, wives of her husband's business associates and even women from church. The last left her feeling particularity blasphemous but also the most sexually aroused for much of the next morning.

But by far the most dreams involved Captain Wilhelmina Gunne. Dreams of her and the Captain cavorting on a beach somewhere or in a huge feather bed, or right in the cabin of this ship,or on the main deck and even once in a church. From each and every dream Emily had awoken dazed, panting heavily, soaked in sweat and with glorious afterglow pulsing through her body. Even the slightest thought of it during the day was enough to start her pulse racing and her essence flowing.

The more the dreams came to Emily, the more they frightened and worried her. Why was she suddenly feeling this way about other women? It was against everything she had ever been taught. She wasn't like that. Was she?

She had also wondered what the Captain would think of her if she ever found out that Emily was attracted to her and having dreams about her. Probably have her thrown off the ship. Hopefully she would at least wait until land was in sight.

As the days passed however, Emily started piecing together random things she noticed about the Captain in addition to bits of her time spent with the woman. She began to wonder if perhaps the woman just might be interested in Emily as well. She replayed her conversations with the Captain in her mind and noted the ways she spoke to her. The almost courtly behavior from the taller woman was revealing but most telling was the way the Captain looked at her. Emily did not consider herself a particularly beautiful woman but she knew she was not unattractive either. She thought of her petite body, red hair, and freckles as decidedly average but that being said, if her years working in the tavern had taught her anything, it was to know when someone was looking her over with hungry, lust-filled eyes. Eyes like she saw in the Captain when she looked at Emily.

By the end of her first week on the ship, Emily had started to convince herself that the Captain might actually be interested in her. There still was no one item she could place her finger on, just an overall impression. Or was it a fear... or maybe a hope?

Whatever it was, with that notion in her head, Emily's dreams became even more lurid and debauched. She was glad the Captain had provided her with her own small cabin, more of a glorified closet really, but at least it had a locking door. With the door firmly locked, no one would see her waking up every morning soaked in sweat, tangled with the thin blanket and groaning softly as rapture saturated her groggy mind. She was, however, beginning to worry that she might have been making noises in her sleep to go along with her dreams. Perhaps loud noises and a lot of them. So far no one had commented or asked any questions but would they or were they just talking behind her back?

All these thoughts and more were rolling about in Emily's mind as she helped prepare the morning meal.

After her first day on the Noir, Emily, not wanting to be simply a freeloader on the ship, had asked the Captain to assign her some kind of duty. Captain Gunne had nodded and lead her down to the galley and introduced her to Barlow, the cook. He was an older, gray haired stick figure of a man who was wildly bereft of teeth. He proved to be amiable enough to Emily if a bit daft at times. More than once over the last few days Emily had walked in on him having an full-blown argument, apparently with the stewpot. When Emily asked with something between concern and amusement, what was going on, Barlow said something about backtalk and sass before wandering off and starting another task.

"Mistress?" The word floated through Emily's mind, making her jump.

"Yes, Marcellene?" Emily said softly, glancing about to make sure no one would see her talking to herself. Barlow had gone down to the lower hold a few minutes ago to get something and hadn't returned yet but he would likely be back any moment.

The day after putting on the ring the spirit or ghost or whatever it was in the ring had returned and in talking with her, Emily had learned more of the ghost and the ring's strange combined past.

Emily still wasn't entirely sure the whole thing wasn't just a bizarre figment of her imagination. Maybe her time as a captive really had affected her mind? Maybe she was slowly going insane? Maybe not so slowly.

"I was wondering if we might converse for a minute?"

"Of course." Emily said, feeling a little bad. She knew from the few conversations that she had with the ghost that she had been trapped for centuries and much of that time had been spent alone. She couldn't even begin to imagine what a lonely existence the woman must endure.