My Bonny Gets Laid over the Ocean

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Cammytrice, Aug 4, 2012.

  1. "Well, Danny, there'll be no turning back for ya now..."

    Danielle Bonsfield put down the scissors and leaned her hands on the table, staring down at the piles of red curls that had fallen there, then into the grimy mirror of the boarding room where she'd spent the past few days. Her money was almost finished, but so was her transformation. Sighing, she picked up the shears again, and evened out the haircut. When it was finally cut to her satisfaction, she set about preparing herself for her big day. Wide strips of linen carefully sewn end to end, an undershirt, an over shirt, a vest, breeches, stockings and shoes. She had no gun, only a knife for protection, and a neckerchief, but no hat.

    The process to wrap her breasts was painstaking and slow, but not overly painful. It was no worse than being tied obscenely tight in that damned corset her mother would force her into, squeezing her tighter and tighter as if doing so would force her small breasts to become any larger. No, this was much better. Now, she could live the life she'd heard her father speak of, regaling his beloved sons with tales of. He had been careful not to divulge such wild and raucous tales to his daughter, however, for fear her delicate mind would unravel itself. And so indeed it seemed to do, but only whenever she stopped to dwell on the unbearable thought of living her boring, stuffy life for years on end. And so, before they could marry her off to cure her hysteria, she'd run off to this tiny, seaside town. She would take to the sea!

    Finally dressed, Danny, as she'd taken to calling herself, looked at the boy in the mirror. Finally, she was the boy she knew she could be. She ran her hands down her chest and shivered slightly. Her nipples were still tender, and even more so now, restrained the way they were. She could only hope that would fade with time. Taking care not to draw attention to herself, she slipped out of the boarding house and into the early morning fog, headed down to the docks.

    The noise and the bustling had been expected, but what Danny hadn't counted on was the mass and crush of people, mostly men, impossibly crushed together at the docks. She had to shove and squirm her way towards the pier, where the navy ship was preparing to sail, and taking on volunteers. She'd almost mad it to the desk when se tripped over something and fell onto the salt-crusted boards.

    "Ho there!" "Whatch it!" "Pick that boy up before he's crushed!"

    Danny found herself hauled up roughly by her arms and stood up in front of the steward's desk, her face grazed by the rough wood at her feet.

    "Your name, son?" the steward asked, barely looking up from his paper and pen.

    "Danny, uh, Daniel Bonny, suh..." she answered, a bit out of breath. She touched her cheek with the back of her hand and barely kept from hissing. It stung!

    The steward looked up at the sound of the light voice. "How old are you, young Bonny?"

    "Only fifteen, suh. I'd like to sign on, suh, I'd like to learn of the sea..."

    The steward held the boy with fiery red hair under his gaze. He looked a little less than fifteen, but he seemed strong despite the fine features and nervous appearance. "You won't be taking to tripping often, will you?" he finally asked at length. "Where are your parents?"

    "Gone, suh, dead. It's only just me."

    "Hmph. Well, alright then. Just so happens the boatswain could use another assistant. Very well, you'll be assigned the rank and duty of a cabin boy, and be paid two pence a week, payable on the ship's return. Sign here, please."

    And so Danielle Bonsfield became Daniel Bonny, and soon found himself standing on the deck of His Majesty's ship of the line as it struck out to sea.

    The days were long and tough for Danny, much harder than she'd thought. Trying to keep up with her duties while trying to keep down her food was not an easy task, but she soon found her sea legs, and became a favourite of the boatswain and the other sailors, though there was a nagging feeling it wasn't because of her young age. And that feeling became a real fear when she heard someone yell from the nest.

    "Ship hard to port! She's run up the black flag!"
  2. They called him the "Gentleman Pirate". Some said it was because his blood ran blue in his veins, a youngest son of a noble family turned privateer and then pirate. Some said it was because he held some vestige of honor and decency in his heart, that he could be made to see honest reason; others claimed it was a bitterly ironic misnomer. It was true, whatever the case may be, that Captain James Capper of the pirate ship Ruin adhered to a sort of code. He never killed a woman or child, and he always kept his word once given.

    His word was never given lightly.

    The man himself cared little for what rumors were traded like fripperies amongst sailors at the docks and bored well-born misses in the parlours. James Capper cared for one thing and one alone: The thrill of the hunt, of the waves crashing and rollicking under the belly of his ship as he closed in on his prey... just as he was now. He was in his element as they drew in alongside the merchant ship, his straw-fair hair raked by the breeze and his lips curved in a predator's toothy grin. Yes, they'd had the jump on this one, and it would be quick work to board and gut them.

    He gave the signal to raise hatches and fire the first cannon.

    James had chosen this catch well. Seasoned sailors these might be, but they were ill equipped for a direct skirmish, and the deck was soon soaked in blood as much as salt water. Smoke and carnage choked the air by the time the battle stilled, those who'd surrendered bound with rope in a pile and waiting to walk the plank. The boatswain was swinging from the galley, his boots cut clean away from his calloused feet. "Gentleman" James might be, but his men could be another story, and they didn't kindly favor the man who'd spit in their captain's eye. Lifting his feet to avoid the still forms lying on the deck as he paced 'round, James surveyed the conveyance of cargo to the Ruin, his face a shade grimmer than before. This life could be nasty work.

    A shout came up from below. "Cap'n, lookit what we found stowing hisself in with th' apples n' cheese!"

    There was a scuffling noise, and a body was tossed out at James's feet, toppling over his well-polished boots. A mess of red curls was the first thing that James saw, followed by a slender and youthful frame. Raising an eyebrow, James toed the youngster over to face upwards.

    "Well now," he mused, hands on his hips and eyes that matched the sea focused down on his captive. "What have we here?"
  3. Danny stared up at him, shaking terribly and trying not to whimper. She'd been trying to take refuge in the hold when splinters from the ship buried themselves in her leg after the first volley ripped through the ship. Subsequently, she'd spent most of the battle trying to pull the long strips of wood out of her leg and bind them. Danny had also torn strips of cloth from her breeches to bind the wounds. By the time the pirates found her, she was trembling from fear and a bit of shock, and covered in blood.

    Now, laying at the feet of Capper, she was about to answer him when she caught sight of the boatswain swinging back and forth with the subtle rocking of the ship. A cry fell from her lips, and she tried to scramble away from the Captain. Unfortunately, she backed herself right up against the legs of the pirates who'd discovered her. They laughed and tossed her back at the captain.

    This time, she looked up the length of the captain, her eyes stopping at his face. She was too scared to think of him as handsome, but she did realise enough that he was not the brutish, pock faced pirate captain she'd heard her father tell her brothers about. "D-danny. Danny Bonny, suh, I..." she was cut short by the sight of the boatswain swinging back into view. It was too much. She threw up on Capper's boots, looking very green. Too weak to get up, she flopped to her side and curled up, trying her hardest not to cry. Squeezing her eyes shut, a few tears escaped, washing a dirty streak of blood down her cheek.
  4. The cabin boy, it seemed, was not made of very stern stuff. He looked quite young, fresh-faced and soft-skinned, more burned than tan and with recent blisters on his palms. James put the lad at only weeks out to sea, let alone at daily work. Was this a runaway, then, much as James had been of a sense? He'd been older than this boy, at least, when he'd turned his back on his family's good name. Past the age of tears, certainly.

    He might well be old enough to be considered a man, but Capper didn't deem him so. He'd hidden from the boarding party, been set to tears, and sicked across James's fine boots. This was no man, but a child. His principles forbade him treat the lad else-wise.

    "Well, young Danny, I hope you've still got something of your wits. I don't tolerate dunderheads aboard the Ruin." He stooped down, grabbing Danny by the chin and forcing it up. "I like the look of you, lad. And since I'm appropriating all possessions herein... I could use a boy to run my errands."

    Some of the men chortled. They were tolerant of their captain's eccentricities when it came to his honor, and most were privately glad that they had an easy out when it came to harming women and babes, but they enjoyed what they saw as his "alternative punishments" all the same. He'd be working Danny to the bone, child or no.
  5. Danny looked up at him in surprise, weakly wiping her face on her sleeve, and blinking at him again. "Y-yess'r...but, mah leg..." she sniffed, looking down at the splinters she hadn't been able to dig out of her leg. They were still oozing blood, too. "Y-you're not going ta kill me?" she finally asked hopefully, the reality of what he was offering finally dawning on her. She struggled to crawl to her feet, and managed set herself upright, leaning heavily on her good leg and swaying heavily. Her skin felt clammy and pale, and she was sweating from the effort, but she looked back up at the captain again, hoping for his approval. She didn't much care who she sailed with, she just knew she didn't want to die. That was the most important thing, right after not being found out for what she really was.

    That, would be a fate worse than death. She'd rather have the boatswain's reward than be found out on a ship full of pirates.

    "I-I'll do my best, suh..." she managed to say, panting slightly. She kept her eyes on him; that was the safest place to look. The deck was stained with blood and littered with gore and body parts, then there were the condemned, and the boatswain...she shook her head, trying to clear it of that image, and looked bak at the captain again. Yes, his face was the safest, and her salvation.