Hunting the Hunter
part III
by Kid Indy
Not far into the morning the watchman spotted a small ship on the Northern horizon. As Don Pedro de la Sierra's three frigates approached, the small boat began to turn around, and by the time the watchman could make out the black flag on the mast, it was running away. However, the smaller boat had only one sail flying; unless the pirate Smythe was suicidal, it meant that he wanted to talk. Sure enough, as the three war ships got closer, the sailors ran the white flag on the smaller vessel. One of Don Pedro's officers approached him.
"Shall we run our flag also, captain?"
"I want that ship boarded and Sara back. There will be no talking. Now full sails ahead!" The cry went through the crew and to the two trailing ships, and the hulks began cutting through the water as fast as they could move. The English ship responded by raising its sails and lowering the white flag, and the chase was on. Unable to wheel around to get cannon shots off, and being afraid that Sara might be aboard the ship, Pedro gave orders to pursue.
On Moon Island, Smythe and Sara sat on an observation platform on one of the island's tall hills. Sara del Furzo looked behind her at the villa and then out into the open ocean. "You're a coward for sending your men to die, pirate."
Smythe took his eye away from the telescope and walked over to where Sara was sitting. "My dear, please call my Smythe. I am your host, not your robber. And my men will likely not die. Once they've gotten into the bay, they're all going to abandon ship. I don't care if Smythe sinks my boat. The ransom and the money from the other privateers will more than make up for my loss."
"You're nothing but a pirate dog." Her Spanish had venom dripping from it.
Smythe reached down and squeezed her knee, making her squirm in her chair and grab his hand. Her eyes were stern and shining, and she shouted, "You will not make mockery of my anger!"
"Will I, now?" Hearing a challenge, Smythe reversed the grab on his wrist, collected her other hand into his left, and with his right grabbed onto her lean side. He squeezed and poked, grabbing her torso and then her knee and then poking the hollow of her exposed underarm. She shrieked and screamed, but he kept up the ticklish treatment until the screams became squeals and then giggles.
"Don't do this!" she giggled in an attempt to sound serious. "This is not fair!" With her voice already engaged, she began laughing as Smythe's quick hand tormented her. In the light dress she was wearing, her luscious olove arms and the skin beneath them were totally exposed, and every touch that his hands gave them made her jump and scream. And when he began tickling under her knee, the shortness of the dress's cut made for the same reaction. His fingers were ecstatic as he brushed her warm, sensitive flesh again and again, and her laugh, as melodious as ever, almost drowned out the watchman's call.
"Ship on the horizon!"
Smythe quickly released Sara. "Your fierce anger will have to wait. My ship is coming." He turned and looked into his own telescope. Sara collected herself and looked around. Aside from the steps up from the valley and between two hilltops, there was no way down from this perch. A sheer rock face began twenty yards in front of her, and it dropped almost fifty feet. The only way out was back to the villa, and she was sure that escaping that way would not work. She sat back in her chair, hoping that Pedro would be able to rescue her from this pirate and his tickling hands.
"Sara, come look." Smythe had stepped aside from the telescope and invited her to view. She tentatively stepped up, wondering if this would be another ploy to tickle her. But her eye and the eyepiece met, and she could see a small ship rapidly approaching the island. Behind it were the sails of three Spanish frigates. Sara grinned.
"Don Pedro has brought three ships after me. Your trap will only be able to catch one."
"Wait until they get to the bay, dear Sara. You'll see." They did wait, and as they approached the island, the two trailing ships broke off, leaving only the leader to pursue the English ship into the bay. "They're checking for reinforcements, as they should. And when they find my allies, they'll either circle back to warn your captain or try to fight them. Either way, I win." He put his hand on Sara's shoulder. "You didn't think I would be caught that easily, did you?"
Sara was stunned. In a moment of panic, she ran out the back door of the camouflaged hut and began to look for something bright to wave. Smythe gave chase, and she could hear his footsteps pounding the path. In her sandals she stood no chance of escaping. Not long down the trail she felt the captain's hand on her arm, and he quickly dragged her to the ground. "You are not getting away any sooner than your Don is, my dear. But now you've earned some early punishment!" He dragged her to her feet and picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He carried her back to the hut and set her down. She tried to hit, kick, and run, but he soon had her back in the chair. Grabbing for a coil of rope hanging on the wall, he pushed her back as she tried to rise again. He threw the small coil around the back of the chair, and Sara found herself trying to slip under the rope. Smythe's quick hands kept her in her chair as he wrapped the rope around her twice more, securing her in place. He quickly moved to her wrists, tying them to the arms of the chair. Securing the last knot, he turned and looked out the window.
"Your Don Pedro has just sailed into my trap, Sara. He's almost the arms and into the bay. My ship is waiting in the middle for him."
"You pig! I'll kill you myself!" She strained against the ropes, but she could not get them to give.
"Ah, Sara, only my men and I will be doing any killing today. You and Don Pedro will just have to enjoy the evening I have planned." He knelt down in front of her and began to remove one of her shoes.
In the bay, Don Pedro heard the horn signalling that his other ships had spotted enemies. He cursed as he sailed further into the bay. No matter... if he could capture Smythe...
"Hello there, Don Pedro!" The voice came from the smaller ship. "I wouldn't fire those cannons just yet--not unless you want to hurt your Sara! Now send a boat over with the gold, and we'll send it back with the Senorita!" The English accent was infuriating to Pedro.
"There will be no trade, pirate! You send the boat over, or we will board you!"
Smythe shifted into speaking English. "You board us and watch what real men will do to you soft Spaniards!" This gave rise to a raucous cheer from the English ship. "We'll slit every one of ya and then take your gold!" Another cheer followed. Don Pedro now could not take any more of this disrespect.
"I can't take any more!"
"Then you shouldn't have tried to run, dear! But I think that other foot needs some attention." Smythe, having brought Sara quickly to giggles tickling the soft sole of her left foot, slid her shoe off her right.
"Please no, capitan! I swear I'll never try that again!"
"Capitan now? But no matter. I've already got your shoe off and your wonderful foot before me. It would be a terrible waste to put it back on without some tickling!"
"NO!" quickly became a ticklish squeal as Smythe grabbed her toes and began to go to work on her heel. He walked his fingers over her soles over and over, making her squirm and giggle as she protested. He pulled back on her toes and scratched at the undersides of them, bringing Sara into a full-blown laugh. When her other foot tried to intervene, he gave its sole a short tickle that renewed her squeal and sent it into retreat for a moment, until it would come back again and face the same tickling. He kept this up for a few more minutes then stood up and looked out the window to see the bay lit up as a bonfire.
Don Pedro dove off the frigate, barely escaping a falling beam. The hidden cannons in the trees had not hit his ship directly, but the flaming debris that the rained down had caught both his and the pirate's ship on fire, ruining the sails and scorching anyone who was on deck. Pedro had managed to find shelter in a doorway, but now his crew was scattered, and the shaking that he felt told him that solid cannonballs had started to hit his ship. As he surfaced between flaming chunks on the water, he saw that a small army had congregated on the beach and was taking prisoner anyone with a Spanish naval uniform. He cursed his adversary and began to swim towards shore.
Smythe untied Sara and began to escort her down the hill. "What are you going to do now, pirate?"
"Well, your Pedro's ship has been burnt, and the other two limped off after they tried to fight eight fully loaded galleons. It seems like I've won the day. Now we're going to let you see Pedro and let him see you."
"He's still alive?"
"Yes, Sara. My officers signalled that he had been captured. That's good--it means that we'll get ransom for you and for Pedro. Now let's go down to him." They travelled the rest of the way down to the villa in silence. When they reached the bottom, Smythe called for John and Paul and had them prepare Sara. She objected slightly but did not want to jeopardize her meeting with Pedro, so she went with them.
Don Pedro, hands bound, was led through a hallway within the villa by four of Smythe's men. They stopped, and in short order Smythe emerged from a doorway. His face was serious, and he walked within a few feet of Pedro. He stooped slightly, looking and seeing that indeed the fire had not hurt him badly. In fact, only one of his arms was burnt at all. He raised a hand and struck the pirate hunter across the face with the back of his cuff.
"You Spanish brats should learn to respect those of us who own the sea." Pedro just glared at him. "But now you've underestimated the will of privateers to keep being privateers, and here we are, eh?" He grinned and struck him another blow. Pedro, his pride enflamed, started to rush forward, but Smythe's four men grabbed him. "Come, Pedro. There's someone who wants to see you." Smythe led him through the door at the end of the hallway, and immediately Pedro saw Sara, lying on her back on a long couch, her hands and bare feet stretched out and tied to the ends of it. He wanted to rush over to her, but the ropes and the pirates would not let him. She turned her head, and her eyes were filled with pity.
"Don Pedro! What have they done?"
"What we have done, dear, is capture the man who wanted us dead. And now we're going to sell you, him, and his crew for ransom."
"I'll be back for you, Smythe."
"No, Pedro you won't. When we return you to the Spanish government, we'll also send a letter from the governor of the English territories of the new world scolding him for sending warships into English territory. It's a good thing that my friends were here to defend me, no? Keeping you in the water will be a perpetual threat of a new war with England. So your little government will have no option; your pirate hunting days will be over."
Pedro's surprise could not be hidden. "Bastard!" he shouted, but it was met by another backhand from Smythe. Pedro watched as the pirate captain picked up a wooden rod from a corner of the room.
"Now, Sara, we come to your choice. I'm going to sell you both, but first I'm going to get a little revenge for the ship that I had to lose. This," he held up the stick, "is your Pedro's fate. This," he produced a brightly colored feather, "is yours. Now one of you is about to meet fate. Do you want me to beat him or to tickle you? Either way, it will last for one hourglass." With this he motioned to a small hourglass on the shelf.
Pedro shouted, "What are you doing to her, pirate? Just take us back to Havana!" Smythe wheeled on him and struck his burnt arm with the rod. Sara screamed as Pedro dropped to his knees in pain.
"Tickle me! Tickle me! Just stop hurting my Pedro!" Her voice betrayed her desperation, and Smythe was obviously enjoying it when he walked over to her with the feather.
"Very well. Turn the hourglass over, gentlemen." One of them did, and Smythe twirled the feather between his fingers. He started moving it towards her feet, but he quickly changed direction and suddenly grabbed her underarms with his fingers. Sara screamed but did not begin laughing. Pedro, now on his feet again, could only watch as she tried not a laugh or beg. Smythe kneaded her sides and ribs, making her moan and then to giggle. He worked her hips with his strong hands, now making her body bounce up and down on the couch. Before long, the touching was too much, and she started to laugh in earnest. He grabbed onto one knee, then the other, making her squeal with unwanted pleasure and start begging in rapid Spanish.
He stopped for a moment and looked over at the time-glass. Sara looked with him and saw that a third of the sand still remained. Smythe picked up the feather again and started moving toward her feet. She began screaming "No! No!", and Pedro once again had to be restrained by Smythe's men. Smythe grabbed Sara's big toe, and she started to giggle in spite of herself. He started sawing the stiff feather underneath her toes, and she quickly broke into giggles again. He put the feather betwen her first two toes and started rubbing it back and forth, and she was again laughing uncontrollably. Her face, red with the tickling and with embarrassment in front of her suitor, seemed frozen in a laugh, and her voice, though strained, was still a musical thing as she screamed and giggled and laughed from the fearful feathering on her feet. Again without warning, Smythe slid the feather up her dress, and she let out a shriek of surprise, furious that he had again made her feel pleasure in such a guilty place. But the fury was soon replaced again by tickling as Smythe scribbled and spidered his fingers all over her vulnerable, soft, noblewoman's soles.
He kept up this torment for a few minutes longer, and finally he let go of her feet and turned to face Pedro. "You see, Don Pedro? She loves being here!"
Pedro strained again at the arms that held him back. "You stop doing this to her! Now!"
"Now Don Pedro, why are you protesting so? Is it because YOU are enjoying it too?"
Pedro was silent for a moment. He quickly put his furious face on again. "Let her go, Pirate!" But Smythe was walking over to him, brandishing his weapon. He began to prod at the front of Pedro's trousers.
"Yes, I think you are enjoying this!" He shifted back to English. "John! Check to see if he's really enjoying this, would you?"
"Captain, I'm not grabbing a man's pants! I'm sorry!"
"For two gold bars?"
John did not have to think about this. He quickly reached down and grabbed Pedro's embarrassment. "Sure enough, captain! Hard as a rock!" Pedro strained forward harder than ever to get at Smythe, but only his captors' strong arms and another backhand from the pirate greeted him. He licked the drop of blood that had spilled onto his lip and glared at Smythe.
"Now it is your turn, Pedro. You get to choose how the rest of the punishment plays out. Do you want me to beat you with the stick, or do you want to tickle Sara?"
Pedro was perplexed; he knew that watching what Smythe did indeed gave him cause to rise, but doing that in front of these English dogs seemed terribly dishonorable. "If you beat me, will you leave Sara alone?"
"Of course not, Pedro. I'll beat you for a while, then I'll let you watch again while I tickle her some more. Then I'll pose the same option to you. What do you think?"
Sara piped up, "Please, Pedro! Just tickle me! Then this will be over!"
Smythe turned around. "I knew it! Now you're begging for more tickling." He grabbed her just above the waist with both hands and started to wiggle his fingers, making her squirm and squeal. "I told you--you just love this now, don't you?" He moved his hands up to her underarms, bringing new shrieks and giggles as he poked and teased her sensitive skin. He persisted only for a few seconds before he turned back to Pedro.
"So what will it be, Spaniard? I will warn you--if you don't tickle her in earnest, you'll take a beating, and I'll tickle her feet until she goes mad. So which will it be?"
"I'll tickle her, Smythe. But just the two of us."
Smythe only smirked. "Then I wouldn't be able to enjoy it. No, in this room, for all of us, or the beating."
"Alright."
"Alright indeed. John! Untie his hands and give him a feather. You have the span of the hourglass, and she'd better be tickled duly for the duration of it! If not, you know what happens." Pedro's hands were untied, and one of the pirates handed him a bright blue feather. He looked around and realized that he and Sara were the only ones in the room without weapons; he would have to go through with this. But he would have to pretend that he did not enjoy it.
* * * * * * * *
Sorry it's taken me so long for this installment--semester finals can be a drag. If you want the previous two installments, you'll have to go back a few pages--people have been writing frequently (and well, I think).
At any rate, I think one more (shorter) installment will finish this one off, then I've got a couple more ideas to pursue. I hope everyone has enjoyed this series so far, and as always, feedback is appreciated!
Kid Indy
part III
by Kid Indy
Not far into the morning the watchman spotted a small ship on the Northern horizon. As Don Pedro de la Sierra's three frigates approached, the small boat began to turn around, and by the time the watchman could make out the black flag on the mast, it was running away. However, the smaller boat had only one sail flying; unless the pirate Smythe was suicidal, it meant that he wanted to talk. Sure enough, as the three war ships got closer, the sailors ran the white flag on the smaller vessel. One of Don Pedro's officers approached him.
"Shall we run our flag also, captain?"
"I want that ship boarded and Sara back. There will be no talking. Now full sails ahead!" The cry went through the crew and to the two trailing ships, and the hulks began cutting through the water as fast as they could move. The English ship responded by raising its sails and lowering the white flag, and the chase was on. Unable to wheel around to get cannon shots off, and being afraid that Sara might be aboard the ship, Pedro gave orders to pursue.
On Moon Island, Smythe and Sara sat on an observation platform on one of the island's tall hills. Sara del Furzo looked behind her at the villa and then out into the open ocean. "You're a coward for sending your men to die, pirate."
Smythe took his eye away from the telescope and walked over to where Sara was sitting. "My dear, please call my Smythe. I am your host, not your robber. And my men will likely not die. Once they've gotten into the bay, they're all going to abandon ship. I don't care if Smythe sinks my boat. The ransom and the money from the other privateers will more than make up for my loss."
"You're nothing but a pirate dog." Her Spanish had venom dripping from it.
Smythe reached down and squeezed her knee, making her squirm in her chair and grab his hand. Her eyes were stern and shining, and she shouted, "You will not make mockery of my anger!"
"Will I, now?" Hearing a challenge, Smythe reversed the grab on his wrist, collected her other hand into his left, and with his right grabbed onto her lean side. He squeezed and poked, grabbing her torso and then her knee and then poking the hollow of her exposed underarm. She shrieked and screamed, but he kept up the ticklish treatment until the screams became squeals and then giggles.
"Don't do this!" she giggled in an attempt to sound serious. "This is not fair!" With her voice already engaged, she began laughing as Smythe's quick hand tormented her. In the light dress she was wearing, her luscious olove arms and the skin beneath them were totally exposed, and every touch that his hands gave them made her jump and scream. And when he began tickling under her knee, the shortness of the dress's cut made for the same reaction. His fingers were ecstatic as he brushed her warm, sensitive flesh again and again, and her laugh, as melodious as ever, almost drowned out the watchman's call.
"Ship on the horizon!"
Smythe quickly released Sara. "Your fierce anger will have to wait. My ship is coming." He turned and looked into his own telescope. Sara collected herself and looked around. Aside from the steps up from the valley and between two hilltops, there was no way down from this perch. A sheer rock face began twenty yards in front of her, and it dropped almost fifty feet. The only way out was back to the villa, and she was sure that escaping that way would not work. She sat back in her chair, hoping that Pedro would be able to rescue her from this pirate and his tickling hands.
"Sara, come look." Smythe had stepped aside from the telescope and invited her to view. She tentatively stepped up, wondering if this would be another ploy to tickle her. But her eye and the eyepiece met, and she could see a small ship rapidly approaching the island. Behind it were the sails of three Spanish frigates. Sara grinned.
"Don Pedro has brought three ships after me. Your trap will only be able to catch one."
"Wait until they get to the bay, dear Sara. You'll see." They did wait, and as they approached the island, the two trailing ships broke off, leaving only the leader to pursue the English ship into the bay. "They're checking for reinforcements, as they should. And when they find my allies, they'll either circle back to warn your captain or try to fight them. Either way, I win." He put his hand on Sara's shoulder. "You didn't think I would be caught that easily, did you?"
Sara was stunned. In a moment of panic, she ran out the back door of the camouflaged hut and began to look for something bright to wave. Smythe gave chase, and she could hear his footsteps pounding the path. In her sandals she stood no chance of escaping. Not long down the trail she felt the captain's hand on her arm, and he quickly dragged her to the ground. "You are not getting away any sooner than your Don is, my dear. But now you've earned some early punishment!" He dragged her to her feet and picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He carried her back to the hut and set her down. She tried to hit, kick, and run, but he soon had her back in the chair. Grabbing for a coil of rope hanging on the wall, he pushed her back as she tried to rise again. He threw the small coil around the back of the chair, and Sara found herself trying to slip under the rope. Smythe's quick hands kept her in her chair as he wrapped the rope around her twice more, securing her in place. He quickly moved to her wrists, tying them to the arms of the chair. Securing the last knot, he turned and looked out the window.
"Your Don Pedro has just sailed into my trap, Sara. He's almost the arms and into the bay. My ship is waiting in the middle for him."
"You pig! I'll kill you myself!" She strained against the ropes, but she could not get them to give.
"Ah, Sara, only my men and I will be doing any killing today. You and Don Pedro will just have to enjoy the evening I have planned." He knelt down in front of her and began to remove one of her shoes.
In the bay, Don Pedro heard the horn signalling that his other ships had spotted enemies. He cursed as he sailed further into the bay. No matter... if he could capture Smythe...
"Hello there, Don Pedro!" The voice came from the smaller ship. "I wouldn't fire those cannons just yet--not unless you want to hurt your Sara! Now send a boat over with the gold, and we'll send it back with the Senorita!" The English accent was infuriating to Pedro.
"There will be no trade, pirate! You send the boat over, or we will board you!"
Smythe shifted into speaking English. "You board us and watch what real men will do to you soft Spaniards!" This gave rise to a raucous cheer from the English ship. "We'll slit every one of ya and then take your gold!" Another cheer followed. Don Pedro now could not take any more of this disrespect.
"I can't take any more!"
"Then you shouldn't have tried to run, dear! But I think that other foot needs some attention." Smythe, having brought Sara quickly to giggles tickling the soft sole of her left foot, slid her shoe off her right.
"Please no, capitan! I swear I'll never try that again!"
"Capitan now? But no matter. I've already got your shoe off and your wonderful foot before me. It would be a terrible waste to put it back on without some tickling!"
"NO!" quickly became a ticklish squeal as Smythe grabbed her toes and began to go to work on her heel. He walked his fingers over her soles over and over, making her squirm and giggle as she protested. He pulled back on her toes and scratched at the undersides of them, bringing Sara into a full-blown laugh. When her other foot tried to intervene, he gave its sole a short tickle that renewed her squeal and sent it into retreat for a moment, until it would come back again and face the same tickling. He kept this up for a few more minutes then stood up and looked out the window to see the bay lit up as a bonfire.
Don Pedro dove off the frigate, barely escaping a falling beam. The hidden cannons in the trees had not hit his ship directly, but the flaming debris that the rained down had caught both his and the pirate's ship on fire, ruining the sails and scorching anyone who was on deck. Pedro had managed to find shelter in a doorway, but now his crew was scattered, and the shaking that he felt told him that solid cannonballs had started to hit his ship. As he surfaced between flaming chunks on the water, he saw that a small army had congregated on the beach and was taking prisoner anyone with a Spanish naval uniform. He cursed his adversary and began to swim towards shore.
Smythe untied Sara and began to escort her down the hill. "What are you going to do now, pirate?"
"Well, your Pedro's ship has been burnt, and the other two limped off after they tried to fight eight fully loaded galleons. It seems like I've won the day. Now we're going to let you see Pedro and let him see you."
"He's still alive?"
"Yes, Sara. My officers signalled that he had been captured. That's good--it means that we'll get ransom for you and for Pedro. Now let's go down to him." They travelled the rest of the way down to the villa in silence. When they reached the bottom, Smythe called for John and Paul and had them prepare Sara. She objected slightly but did not want to jeopardize her meeting with Pedro, so she went with them.
Don Pedro, hands bound, was led through a hallway within the villa by four of Smythe's men. They stopped, and in short order Smythe emerged from a doorway. His face was serious, and he walked within a few feet of Pedro. He stooped slightly, looking and seeing that indeed the fire had not hurt him badly. In fact, only one of his arms was burnt at all. He raised a hand and struck the pirate hunter across the face with the back of his cuff.
"You Spanish brats should learn to respect those of us who own the sea." Pedro just glared at him. "But now you've underestimated the will of privateers to keep being privateers, and here we are, eh?" He grinned and struck him another blow. Pedro, his pride enflamed, started to rush forward, but Smythe's four men grabbed him. "Come, Pedro. There's someone who wants to see you." Smythe led him through the door at the end of the hallway, and immediately Pedro saw Sara, lying on her back on a long couch, her hands and bare feet stretched out and tied to the ends of it. He wanted to rush over to her, but the ropes and the pirates would not let him. She turned her head, and her eyes were filled with pity.
"Don Pedro! What have they done?"
"What we have done, dear, is capture the man who wanted us dead. And now we're going to sell you, him, and his crew for ransom."
"I'll be back for you, Smythe."
"No, Pedro you won't. When we return you to the Spanish government, we'll also send a letter from the governor of the English territories of the new world scolding him for sending warships into English territory. It's a good thing that my friends were here to defend me, no? Keeping you in the water will be a perpetual threat of a new war with England. So your little government will have no option; your pirate hunting days will be over."
Pedro's surprise could not be hidden. "Bastard!" he shouted, but it was met by another backhand from Smythe. Pedro watched as the pirate captain picked up a wooden rod from a corner of the room.
"Now, Sara, we come to your choice. I'm going to sell you both, but first I'm going to get a little revenge for the ship that I had to lose. This," he held up the stick, "is your Pedro's fate. This," he produced a brightly colored feather, "is yours. Now one of you is about to meet fate. Do you want me to beat him or to tickle you? Either way, it will last for one hourglass." With this he motioned to a small hourglass on the shelf.
Pedro shouted, "What are you doing to her, pirate? Just take us back to Havana!" Smythe wheeled on him and struck his burnt arm with the rod. Sara screamed as Pedro dropped to his knees in pain.
"Tickle me! Tickle me! Just stop hurting my Pedro!" Her voice betrayed her desperation, and Smythe was obviously enjoying it when he walked over to her with the feather.
"Very well. Turn the hourglass over, gentlemen." One of them did, and Smythe twirled the feather between his fingers. He started moving it towards her feet, but he quickly changed direction and suddenly grabbed her underarms with his fingers. Sara screamed but did not begin laughing. Pedro, now on his feet again, could only watch as she tried not a laugh or beg. Smythe kneaded her sides and ribs, making her moan and then to giggle. He worked her hips with his strong hands, now making her body bounce up and down on the couch. Before long, the touching was too much, and she started to laugh in earnest. He grabbed onto one knee, then the other, making her squeal with unwanted pleasure and start begging in rapid Spanish.
He stopped for a moment and looked over at the time-glass. Sara looked with him and saw that a third of the sand still remained. Smythe picked up the feather again and started moving toward her feet. She began screaming "No! No!", and Pedro once again had to be restrained by Smythe's men. Smythe grabbed Sara's big toe, and she started to giggle in spite of herself. He started sawing the stiff feather underneath her toes, and she quickly broke into giggles again. He put the feather betwen her first two toes and started rubbing it back and forth, and she was again laughing uncontrollably. Her face, red with the tickling and with embarrassment in front of her suitor, seemed frozen in a laugh, and her voice, though strained, was still a musical thing as she screamed and giggled and laughed from the fearful feathering on her feet. Again without warning, Smythe slid the feather up her dress, and she let out a shriek of surprise, furious that he had again made her feel pleasure in such a guilty place. But the fury was soon replaced again by tickling as Smythe scribbled and spidered his fingers all over her vulnerable, soft, noblewoman's soles.
He kept up this torment for a few minutes longer, and finally he let go of her feet and turned to face Pedro. "You see, Don Pedro? She loves being here!"
Pedro strained again at the arms that held him back. "You stop doing this to her! Now!"
"Now Don Pedro, why are you protesting so? Is it because YOU are enjoying it too?"
Pedro was silent for a moment. He quickly put his furious face on again. "Let her go, Pirate!" But Smythe was walking over to him, brandishing his weapon. He began to prod at the front of Pedro's trousers.
"Yes, I think you are enjoying this!" He shifted back to English. "John! Check to see if he's really enjoying this, would you?"
"Captain, I'm not grabbing a man's pants! I'm sorry!"
"For two gold bars?"
John did not have to think about this. He quickly reached down and grabbed Pedro's embarrassment. "Sure enough, captain! Hard as a rock!" Pedro strained forward harder than ever to get at Smythe, but only his captors' strong arms and another backhand from the pirate greeted him. He licked the drop of blood that had spilled onto his lip and glared at Smythe.
"Now it is your turn, Pedro. You get to choose how the rest of the punishment plays out. Do you want me to beat you with the stick, or do you want to tickle Sara?"
Pedro was perplexed; he knew that watching what Smythe did indeed gave him cause to rise, but doing that in front of these English dogs seemed terribly dishonorable. "If you beat me, will you leave Sara alone?"
"Of course not, Pedro. I'll beat you for a while, then I'll let you watch again while I tickle her some more. Then I'll pose the same option to you. What do you think?"
Sara piped up, "Please, Pedro! Just tickle me! Then this will be over!"
Smythe turned around. "I knew it! Now you're begging for more tickling." He grabbed her just above the waist with both hands and started to wiggle his fingers, making her squirm and squeal. "I told you--you just love this now, don't you?" He moved his hands up to her underarms, bringing new shrieks and giggles as he poked and teased her sensitive skin. He persisted only for a few seconds before he turned back to Pedro.
"So what will it be, Spaniard? I will warn you--if you don't tickle her in earnest, you'll take a beating, and I'll tickle her feet until she goes mad. So which will it be?"
"I'll tickle her, Smythe. But just the two of us."
Smythe only smirked. "Then I wouldn't be able to enjoy it. No, in this room, for all of us, or the beating."
"Alright."
"Alright indeed. John! Untie his hands and give him a feather. You have the span of the hourglass, and she'd better be tickled duly for the duration of it! If not, you know what happens." Pedro's hands were untied, and one of the pirates handed him a bright blue feather. He looked around and realized that he and Sara were the only ones in the room without weapons; he would have to go through with this. But he would have to pretend that he did not enjoy it.
* * * * * * * *
Sorry it's taken me so long for this installment--semester finals can be a drag. If you want the previous two installments, you'll have to go back a few pages--people have been writing frequently (and well, I think).
At any rate, I think one more (shorter) installment will finish this one off, then I've got a couple more ideas to pursue. I hope everyone has enjoyed this series so far, and as always, feedback is appreciated!
Kid Indy
