Chapter 0 - Anchored

They pull her down from the boat, her hands wrapped with rope. A feeble method of binding her to be sure, but the scarred and brutal-looking sailor who has his hands on her shoulder wouldn't allow her to take advantage. Instead she reflects on the pain of the new piercings they've given her. New rings of iron are sunk into her flesh, one for each nipple, one for her tongue and one on the sore lips of her pussy. The man whistles tunelessly, his free hand swinging lazily with an anchor held in his grasp.

"Stop." He rumbles. She pulls up beside him, and he pushes her to her knees roughly, before pressing her face into the sand as he places a knee on her back. His hands quickly grab the rope from around her wrists, tying it tightly around her waist, before pulling out two padlocks. He grabs each arm, tugging it around her back and tucking her thumb into the narrow space between padlock and rope as he shuts them. The pain is horrendous, her thumbs unable to move out of the confines.

Then he grabs the anchor, a stout four-pointed object that looks incredibly heavy. He loops the open end of one padlock through the chain hole at its top as she watches him. He turns to her, a scar twisting like a snake as he grins. "Enjoy." He snaps the lock onto her labia's piercing. She understands then that despite her legs being free, she can't go anywhere, not without hurting herself so badly it wouldn't be worth it.

He pulls her face towards him hungrily, his tongue lashing the inside of her mouth violently. She squirms away, knowing that ultimately she was powerless against him. He reaches for the last padlock. "Got any last words?" She looks at him in confusion. There was no gag, what would stop her from speaking? He answered that question with his next actions. His hands tugging on each delicate, painfully sensitive nipple, he loops the padlock through the left one, pulling her breast towards the centre of her chest as she cried out, as he looped it through the right nipple now.

Then, with an evil look on his face that stated his joy with the situation all too well, he delicately pulls her tongue from out of her mouth, looping the padlock through the piercing on that as well before locking it. He stands up, watching her struggle as her breasts tug painfully at her tongue. The heat of the beach would make her pant, and every time she did so her tongue's retreat into her mouth would tug excruciatingly on her nipples. "Storm on it's way soon," he smiles. "Your father should not have crossed the Red Skulls, girlie. A shame," he leers, "I'd have had no problem keeping you otherwise."

He strides off, joining his shipmates on the boat as it sails off, leaving the young woman with only the pain of her nipples and tongue, and the impending dread of the stormclouds slowly gathering overhead.