Inspired heavily by the movie “Flesh + Blood.”
GENRES: Erotica, Historical Fiction, Pirate Fiction, Nunsploitation, Taboo, Fetish
SYNOPSIS: A young nun is kidnapped by pirates, and forced to be the Captain’s unwilling concubine. To her horror, she begins to question her own sanity after falling in love with the very man keeping her captive.
TAGS: [F4M] [Rape] [Kidnapping] [Domestic Violence] [Assault] [Yandere] [Fetish] [Taboo] [Sacrilege] [Nuns] [Pirates] [Torture] [Historical Erotica] [Murder] [Abuse] [Name Calling] [Humiliation] [Older Man] [Younger Woman]
CONTACT INFO: My Website: MollyMolotov666.com / Twitter: MollyMolotov666 / Email: firstname.lastname@example.org
Consider this to be your own warning:
First and foremost: This novella is strictly fantasy. Any similarities to real people and events, etc, is purely coincidental.
Secondly, it’s an exploration of the intersection between fetish and abuse.
Though written through the lens of erotica, it’s not a blueprint, nor should it be taken as an example of a healthy relationship.
If you confuse fantasy from reality, this novella isn’t for you.
Don’t recreate anything you read below. There are no redeemable characters in this story. None. Well, maybe Vita, but only barely. The characters within are all terrible in their own way, and should not be emulated.
It should go without saying, but I don’t endorse the committing of actual crimes. Please refrain from real-life rape, murder, and any acts of pillaging or piracy. Pirates are, in fact, very bad people, and should not be emulated.
Seriously, though: DO NOT RECREATE ANYTHING IN THIS NOVELLA!
For adults only.
CHAPTER ONE: Vita
My name is Sister Maria-Agatha, and I have quite the story to tell.
Well known at St. Augustus Abbey for the stories I weave, I often spend hours a day regaling my fellow nuns, as well as our charges, with tales of the seven seas; of pirates, and ships, and swashbuckling heroes.
They’re all from my imagination, of course, but that is simply because I’ve chosen to keep my real stories to myself. That is, until now.
This memoir is the story of my life; One I’ve managed to carefully keep hidden from the others in fear of their judgement. I didn’t want the people I valued the most in this life to think less of me after learning the unfortunate fact that I haven’t always been the good sister that I am today.
I kept these stories to myself in hopes they’d never see the light of day.
However, I have since changed my opinion on the matter. I realized that once I’m gone, the memory of Captain Wolf Renauld would die with me. My own death is one thing. I don’t care if I’m remembered, but the thought of Mr. Wolf being lost to history somehow feels very wrong to me. His story must be preserved.
My life with that man was complicated beyond words, and I’ve spent a very long time trying to figure out where to begin. After much deliberation, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’d start at the beginning: My birth. I contemplated jumping right into my time on the Celeste, but it’s important to know where I came from to understand how I ended up where I did.
My parents were lost to sweating sickness when I was barely 6 years old. The good sisters at a nearby nunnery had taken me in afterwards, insisting on raising me as one of their own. It was then I realized my calling. Even as a child, I knew there was never going to be another option for me. It was clear, even then, that my future would be in service of the Almighty.
Being a sister was something I’ve always worked for, and after being officially ordained, I was proudly sent away on my first mission. At Leighton Abbey, the kindly sisters instantly calmed my nerves at arrival, making me feel like family the very moment we met. They were friendly, gentle, and very loving in their approach to faith. I immediately felt at home, and that night, I prayed to God for such good fortune, thankful beyond words for the blessings that He had bestowed upon me.
However, in my relative comfort of the abbey, never could I have imagined, even in a million years, the horror and regret that was still awaiting me. I had thought my future at Leighton Abbey would be spent piously, tending to the sickly and infirm well into my elderly years. I was looking forward to growing old there, with my beloved new sisters by my side.
To my despair, the abbey was only to be a temporary paradise; a gentle prelude to the horrors that were soon to follow.
It all started around midnight, April 2nd, in the year of our Lord, 1378; That was the moment when my new life at Leighton Abbey had ended just as quickly as it had begun. We were awakened in the dead of night by the unmistakable noise of pirates kicking down our abbey doors, changing all of our lives forever.
Thinking quickly, I found myself hiding in an apple barrel for what felt like several hours. With my hands clasped over my lips to capture any rogue whimpers of fear, I hid quietly as pirates loudly raided my beloved abbey.
The darkness of the cellar felt safe for the moment, but I knew it was only a matter of time before they raided our food supply, and in the process, they’d surely find me in my hiding space as I silently awaited my fate.
Prayer is the only weapon in a nun’s arsenal, so that’s what I did: I prayed to God for the serenity to handle whatever came next with grace and dignity. A moment before, I had heard the unmistakable sound of my fellow sisters in agony, being violated by those fiends, then, their pained shrieks turned to gurgles and coughs, followed by a sickening silence.
I was unwavering in my faith, but I wasn’t a fool, and well aware of the fate that most likely awaited me. However, I was also comforted slightly by knowing it was all God’s will. At the time, I didn’t dare question His eternal plan. My only course of action was to beg for the strength to keep my composure during the horrors that were going on around me.
God help me, I didn’t want to die screaming, as my fellow sisters had.
However, to my horror, midway through my millionth mental recitation of “Ava Maria,” I felt the barrel that I was hiding in tip over, spilling me to the floor. As dozens of apples tumbled wildly around me, I looked up squinting, my eyes adjusting to the torchlight that dimly filled the small, underground room. Any grace I had prayed for quickly faded as I began to panic.
I whimpered in crippling terror, my arm blindly raised up in defense, preemptively guarding my face from attack. The pirate stood over me menacingly, his features hidden in shadow. Repeatedly, I opened my mouth to beg for mercy, but only whimpers and gasps managed to come out.
The only word I managed to get out was: “Please.” It’s all I could say, so I repeated it in a voice barely over a whisper.
“Please, please, please…”
My eyes struggled to adjust to the dim candlelight, and slowly, I began to make out the blood stains on his clothes. It was then that I noticed how his sword was dripping wet, leaving a puddle of crimson by his feet. I tried to gaze upon his face, and all I could see was a dark, menacing shadow.
He truly reminded me of the Devil, himself, filling my heart with unspeakable dread.
I tried to crawl away from him, but with the flick of his foot, I was on my side, curled up, grabbing my belly in pain. The force of the kick into my gut was enough to knock the wind out of my lungs. I could hear more pirates coming down the stairs to the cellar just as the one who kicked me began to speak: “You’re beautiful when you cry.”
Incapacitated and powerless, I prayed to God, begging for this ordeal to be over. The pain was unbearable. All I could do was curl up in a ball, gasping, struggling for air. I think I fainted at some point, but I had never fainted before, so I can’t be certain. I recall a sensation, much like falling asleep, before waking up in a state of confusion, completely lost and disoriented.
Lost and bewildered, I couldn’t remember how I got to this new location. All l I knew was that I was no longer at the abbey, but instead, chained up in a tiny caged cell, barely big enough for me to stand up in. It was then that I noticed the ambient rocking of the floor beneath me, telling me without a doubt that I was taken aboard the pirate’s ship, and am now an unwilling captive.
A deep male voice pulled me from my thoughts: “Wakey-wakey,” he said menacingly. “What’s your name, sister?”
Looking up from my straw pallet on the cell floor, I saw his silhouette sitting in the darkness on the other side of the iron bars that separated us, but I knew exactly who he was. He was the very same pirate who found me in the cellar. I tried to speak, but nerves prevented me from making a cohesive sentence.
Finally, I managed to spit out: “I’m Sister Maria-Agatha of Leighton Abbey.”
“No, my dear,” he chuckled. “What’s your real name? The one that was stolen from you once you decided to join the convent.”
I paused before answering, shocked at the very nature of the question: “Vita,” I whimpered.
The pirate seemed to like my answer, and crooned my name back to me softly, as if admiring the way it sounds. “My name is Captain Wolfgang Renauld, but you, my dear sister, may call me Mr. Wolf, at your service.”
“Where are you taking me?” I asked meekly, prepared to be terrified no matter what he said next. There was no good answer, and I was well aware of this before even asking the question. All the same, I really wanted, needed, to know what this monster had planned for me.
He laughed menacingly. “Wherever the wind takes us, my dear.”
The tears began to fall. “Is this a pirate ship? Are you going to hurt me?”
Despite the darkness of the room, I felt his gaze on me, burning a hole through my clothing.
“To answer your first question, this is the Celeste, and she’s a pilfered war vessel, turned pirate ship. Now, to answer the second question,” he paused menacingly before continuing, “That depends. Pull up your tunic, Vita. Now. Let me see what you hide under that hideous nightgown.”
“No,” I retorted sharply in my tears. Though my knowledge of sexual matters may have been extremely limited, I was painfully aware of the danger I was in.
“Don’t make me come in there, sweetheart. I’d hate to bruise and break that perfect skin of yours. If I have to make you bleed, I will. Obey me. Now.” His voice was cold like ice.
I gasped as he stood up and approached the cage door. Terrified beyond words, my body wilted into the fetal position, my face buried into the straw bedding beneath me.
His voice was deep and cruel. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Take off your tunic. Then, spread your legs and lay back for me. Do it. Now.” His tone terrified me. I had never known what it was like to be truly scared for my life before, that is, until that very moment.
Frankly, I didn’t dare to refuse him this time.
I followed his commands to the letter, to my explicit and overwhelming humiliation. No man has ever seen me like this before. After taking my vows, nobody was ever supposed to! Shamefully, I hid my face the best I could, but he pushed my hair out of my eyes, unwilling to give me even a moment of modesty.
I didn’t even hear the cage door open! God help me, it was only until he was standing over me, touching my hair, that I realized he was inside, readying himself for the assault that was no doubt awaiting me. To my great shame, he reached down and slid his finger inside my most sacred of places. I felt a slight bit of pressure to my maiden’s head, before whispering a prayer of relief as he removed his hand without pushing through it.
His tone was mocking, as if making fun of me.
“A virgin,” he laughed darkly, “Perfect. You must understand, Vita, I’m the kind of man that can’t even walk by freshly fallen snow without putting my footprint in it. I need to leave my mark on such perfection, as if to announce to the world that I touched it first. You, my dear little sister, will be no exception,” he sighed with open desire, “I look forward to tainting such purity.”
The bastard leaned in to kiss me, but as I turned my head away, he grabbed my face, and forced my lips to his. His mouth was an invader, ravaging my mouth, taking what he thought was his. I was in horror, tears rolling down my cheeks as he forced his full body weight onto me, pinning me to the straw covered floor below.
I was trapped, scared and helpless as his hands and mouth explored me like an uncharted island, seeking the hidden treasures of my body. This man was greedy, rough, and his kisses left bruises, but I refused to scream. All I could think about was how this beast of a man had killed my sisters, and likely burned my beloved abbey to the ground.
Sobbing silently, I didn’t fight the pirate’s cruel advances, nor did I call out for help, because I knew fully well that there would be no assistance coming, even if I had. In fact, I already accepted my fate back at the abbey. Only hours before, I had heard my fellow sisters being raped and murdered, and had no choice but to accept that I was next in line. Truly, my time had finally come, I thought to myself as I watched the pirate remove his shirt.
As he pulled himself out of his pants, I whispered yet another “Ava Maria,” calling out for the Holy Virgin to give me grace in the face of this evil. It was then that I felt his hands pulling my tunic up to my neck, revealing the rest of my body to his monstrous gaze.
His invading lips captured one of my nipples, sucking it softly at first, before biting it harder and harder by the moment. I pursed my lips together to keep from screaming, but I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to abstain. The pain and humiliation was indescribable, and I suffered most of all with the knowledge that I was powerless to stop this.
I was at his disposal, and this thought alone was sheer torture to me.
The pirate unlatched his teeth from my bruised and swollen chest, and I felt his hand cup my chin, pulling my face to his. When he ordered me to open my eyes, I clinched them tighter. God help me, I didn’t want him to see the pain in my eyes; nor the fear, the shame, or the hatred he inspired in me. He didn’t deserve to know the effect he’s had on my mind. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
His voice was dark and smoky, filled with a barely veiled threat of violence: “I hate repeating myself, little dove. Don’t make me repeat myself.” My eyes slowly opened, and I was met with his, only inches from mine. Filled with a combination of rage, lust, and pure sadism, his gaze pierced my very soul, reading me like a book.
I had never felt so vulnerable.
With a quick thrust, Wolf was all the way inside me, my toes curling in a strange combination of pleasure and pain. I bit my bottom lip hard enough to bleed as he held himself in place, his gaze still locked into mine.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he whispered, “Look at me. I want you to memorize my face. I want it painted vividly so into your mind, that long after I leave these warm thighs, you will still think of me every time someone else makes you cum.”
It was here that he began to slowly and methodically pump into me. It was like being stabbed over and over in a steady, methodical rhythm.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” I screamed, finally cracking under the torture of his sex tearing me wide open. When I tried to put my hands up in defense, the pirate grabbed the chains that were holding my wrists together, and he pinned them over my head. This didn’t slow down his infernal thrusting. In fact, it almost seemed like it had egged him on to go faster, harder, meaner than before.
Whenever I closed my eyes, he slapped me in the face, forcing my gaze back to his.
“You feel so good,” the pirate crooned into my ear.
“Please, kill me,” I begged in a voice that was barely above a whisper.
The pirate’s response was to kiss me hard and painfully, his tongue forcibly invading my mouth. I tried to fight, but I knew that I had no chance to win. For a moment, I entertained the idea of biting his tongue, but feared that it would only serve to prolong my torture. My only course of action was to let him finish and then, God willing, he’d let me die in peace.
Sadly, Renauld wasn’t anywhere near done with me yet. It was clear he was trying to break me, taking his precious time in doing so. I felt like clay in his hands, being molded and bent to his whim as he violated me brutalized me against my will.
The entire time, that damned pirate kept whispering something in my ear, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying over the sound of my own panicked heartbeat. Before I had a chance to respond, Renauld’s hand was wrapped around my throat, his palm pressed against my windpipe. Still thrusting violently, his eyes locked into mine as he began to squeeze, slowly strangling me with his thick, calloused hands.
Something weird happened to me at that moment. I felt myself becoming hot. Needy. My belly ached with desire, and the desperation inside me increased the harder he squeezed. I was dying, but god help me, I wanted more.
It was only then that I heard what he was saying to me: “I love you.”
I exploded with ecstasy. My entire body shook and trembled under him as he released the grip around my neck, and he quickly followed suit, cumming with me. I clung to him, wrapping my legs around him like a snake, holding him tightly so that he couldn’t move away, if he wanted to.
I didn’t want this moment to end.
It was then that I noticed an uncomfortable truth about myself that would surely come back to haunt me later: I was drunk on this feeling, and I needed more. Though I barely knew what an orgasm was, I knew deep in my soul that I needed to feel that again. Vows be damned, it was like being struck by lightning, and I couldn’t imagine my life without ever experiencing that pleasure again.
My captor looked down at me and smiled, still trying to catch his breath. His words both scared and enticed me: “Well, Princess. You’re not as pure as you seemed. Never in my life had I ever met a virgin who could cum to being choked. I was going to strangle you to death, but I think you’re worth keeping. For now, anyway. Keep me pleased, and we’ll see how long this arrangement lasts.”
Wolf’s tone was soft, almost inviting, even as he threatened me.
Despite the danger ahead, I quickly found myself being charmed like a snake. Renauld had me captured under his spell, and I couldn’t understand why, or how it had happened. All I knew for certain was that I felt ashamed of how my body and mind betrayed me when it came to this depraved pirate captain.
I had only recently taken my sacred vows, and I have already broken them!
In my eyes, I had failed God, my fallen sisters at the abbey, and myself. This bastard pirate had robbed me of everything I held dear, including my self-respect and dignity. Humiliated, I had hidden my face in shame, but with a finger, he lifted my chin up, tilting my face back into his view.
He stared directly into my eyes and whispered: “Shame is a byproduct of your old life. You’re mine now. There will be no shame in my presence. Is that clear?”
It was like he was reading my mind. My voice was hoarse, tense with fear as I responded: “Please, I have a calling from God. Let me go so that I may continue to do His good works! I beg you, kind sir.”
The pirate laughed deeply, “God has millions of nuns. He can spare one. Relax, angel. Don’t be afraid. I promise to keep you safe.”
My scoff was loud and telling of the feelings I had on his particular choice of words. “Safe?” I snapped tearfully, “Is this what you call ‘safe?'”
The beast laughed at me before smoothly saying “I’m going to make you love me, angel.”
My first thought wasn’t a refusal of that statement. Deep down, I knew he was right. I already had these inexplicable feelings bubbling up deep from inside, and it was very clear to me that I was falling in love with my captor.