Fanny (69 page)

“The Silver Spoons?” askt Lancelot.

“The Tanner?” askt Horatio.

“No, Sillies,” said our Annie, fondling her own Breasts, “but Breasts as large an’ fine as these!” Whereupon she unloos’d her Stays, saying, “Oho, ’tis warm to tell a Tale with so much Passion an’ I can scarce breathe free….” And she disclos’d just enough beauteous Breast, with the slight pink Hint of Nipple, to quite distract our two Pyrates from her Tale.

“Well—” says she, “when Jack Rackham sees that Mark Read the Brave Buccaneer is really Mary Read the Brave Buccaneeress, he forthwith stops bein’ jealous, the bloody Fool—fer I had more good Lovin’ with Mary than with any Pyrate that e’er sail’d the Spanish Main! An’ mark ye, I’ve bedded most o’ ’em—Stede Bonnet, Calico Jack, all but the dead Cap’n Kidd himself an’ Blackbeard, o’ course—because he ne’er washt in his Life an’ me Nose is as tender as me ye-know-what!”

Lancelot and Horatio roar’d again with Mirth, whilst, needless to say, I did not.

“Well,” says dear Annie, “Mary Read an’ I was Partners in Battle, Partners in Bed fer as long as the Cruise lasted, an’ ’twas many a Time we was on Deck a-fightin’ whilst the bloody Men huddl’d in the Steerage. Upon one Occasion, I fir’d into the Hold to rouze them cowardly Dogs an’ kill’d a Parcel o’ ’em, too.
Then
they comes up an’ fights—what’s left o’ them! We took great Numbers o’ Prizes in Jamaica an’ other Parts o’ the West Indies, an’ but fer a short Stay in Cuba where I bore me Babe—the first, that is—I went a-pyratin’ with more Gusto than any Man. An’ Mary did, too! We dress’d in Man’s Disguise an’ play’d the Man in Bed as well. O I ne’er met a Fellow as brave as Mary, nor half the Man abed
she
was—but there may always be a first Time…” says she, winking again at Horatio and Lancelot.

“Well—we is taken finally because o’ Rackham’s Cowardice an’, our Ship bein’ batter’d by Hurricanoes, an’ damaged in the Riggin’ an’ the Masts, we is pursu’d by Pyrate-Chasers from Port Royal, an’ when the Bastards comes about to board us, Jack Rackham cowers in his Cabin like a Cowardly Dog! Mary an’ I mann’d the Decks alone—but O, brave as we was, we cannot take three Pyrate-Catchers single-handed! Carried to Jamaica in Chains we is, an’ there in Port Royal have the grandest Trial that e’er was seen since Cap’n Kidd was hang’d! A drunken Judge, lyin’ Witnesses, a drunken Barrister—all the Glories o’ British Justice! Why, when Mary an’ me says: ‘Milord,
we pleads our Bellies
’—the drunken Judge thinks we means to say ’tis Time fer Dinner! Fer yer British Judges is e’er attun’d to their Bellies an’ not to the Meat, as ’twere, o’ the Trial! When a Prisoner pleads her Belly, all the bloody Judge can think of is his own Mutton Roast!”

“Aye, ’tis true,” says Lancelot.

“Well—we get off hangin’ thus,” says Bonny, “but whilst in Gaol, poor Mary dyes o’ Gaol Distemper! Thus do I lose me greatest Love….”

“Aye,” says Lancelot, “I know it well….”

“Alas, alack,” says Horatio, as if Anne Bonny were another Eloisa losing Abelard to Death’s own Monastery, or i’faith, another Alcestis sacrificing Life itself to Love.

“But the Day Jack Rackham is to hang, I goes to his Prison Cell—fer I had Influence aplenty in that Gaol, thanks to me Father’s Money (which he sent via his Planter Friends in Jamaica)—an’ I bid a fond Farewell to the very Man who brought both me Downfall an’ me Deliverance! Fer I was
caught
owin’ to his Cowardice, ’tis true, but owin’ to his Cock I was spar’d the Noose! ‘
Jack
’—says I—‘
O dearest Anne
,’ says he—‘
Jack darlin’
,’ says I—‘
O dearest Anne
,’ says he—
‘
Jack darlin
’,’ says I—‘
if ye had fought like a Man ye needn’t have hang’d like a Dog
!’”

“That’s tellin’ him!” cries Lancelot.

“Aye!” says Horatio.

“What sweet and comforting Words to a dying Man,” say I with heavy Irony, whereupon Lancelot hushes me and Horatio hushes me, and Bonny continues:

“But me Papa comes to the Rescue in the End, sweeps me from Gaol with some well-placed golden Coins—Sacks o’ Coins i’faith—to all the drunken Judges, Gaolers, Barristers, an’ Gov’ners, whereupon what d’ye think happen’d?”

“He makes ye promise to forswear Pyracy?” askt Lancelot.

“No, Silly,” says Annie, loosing her Stays e’en more and fondling her Nipples.

“He makes you promise to live with him in Charlestown?” askt Horatio.

“No, Silly,” says Annie, pulling up her Skirt, and showing first her white Calves, then her fine pink Knees, and then—O Goddess—her smooth white Thighs!

“What, then?” says Horatio, panting.

“Well,” says Anne, “me Papa says:
‘If yer determin’d to be a Pyrate as I see ye are, ye shall have the finest Ship Money can buy an all yer Heart desires, fer I suspect ’tis in yer very Blood!’
An’ so he outfits me as ye can see, with all the finest Gear, a Galley built like Cap’n Kidd’s own Ship; an’ he makes only this Proviso—that I must tithe to him ten per cent of all I take!”

“Amazing!” said Horatio.

“Astoundin’!” said Lancelot. “An’ very like a Lawyer!”

“There’s more Amazement soon to come!” said Anne. Whereupon she opens her Legs and begins, most seductively, to stroke that Bow’r of Bliss betwixt ’em. Now Anne Bonny begins a slow and sensuous Dance before our six astonish’d Eyes and like Salome with all her Seven Veils, she strips off Garments as she dances, and fondles her own Breasts and Thighs! ’Tis verily as if, having expos’d her History in that long, torturous Tale, she now proceeds to lay her Body bare!

Despite my jealousy, I must confess that Anne’s naked Form was beauteous beyond my wildest Dreams: Breasts round and firm as Melons, Nipples pink as Dawn and large as Sand Dollars, a flaming Bush, white Thighs, and a beauteous Belly whose only Hint of Child-bearing was a not unpleasing Slackness. Nor was she unskill’d in Dancing and Disrobing at the self-same Time. E’en her Stays and Petticoats and Shift she us’d most seductively, dropping ’em here and there upon the Floor, in what Mr. Herrick might have call’d “a sweet Disorder.”

Finally, after much Dancing and Fondling, she takes Horatio’s Hand, leads him to kneel betwixt her open Thighs, and offers him the Honey that verily drips in that most purple Place. At once he dives in with more Enthusiasm than a famish’d Dog finding a Leg o’ Mutton! Lancelot, for his part, is too shockt to protest and I must pinch myself to make sure I’m not asleep and dreaming. Ye Gods—what a Woman! Coarse, crude, and yet I cannot but admire someone who takes her Pleasure so directly. In a trice, she and Horatio grapple on the Floor and they are making the Beast with two Backs with the greatest Gusto. Bonny goes about her Pleasure with such high Animal Spirits that ’tis quite infectious; and ere long, e’en Lancelot and I have join’d ’em upon the Floor! As Bonny and Horatio pant and buck, seeking the Summit of Love’s sensual Pleasure, I fondle Bonny’s Breasts, and Lancelot strokes Horatio’s sable Back. Great Goddess! Can this be happening to me? I hate this Woman’s Soul and yet I love her Breasts—and O her Spirit quite engages me!

In the Debauch that follow’d, our own Annie was the Alpha and Omega of our Pleasure. We three scarce attended to our own Wants, but all to her Insatiable Appetites. Both Men had her, then did I almost devour her from her Toes to her red Curls; then did she devour me! O what a clever Tongue our Annie had! Words she fumbl’d with, but Flesh flow’d for her as smoothly as a Springtime River. She could play the Man better than any Man, and the Key of her Tongue unlockt Places in my Lock of Love that had ne’er been unlockt before!

O, O, O—I blush to think how Annie quite undid me! Crude as she was in Speech, she was just so gentle in the Art of Touch. Perhaps ’twas all a Conquest; oft’ later I had Occasion to think so. But ere Logick rear’d its ugly Head, I was lost in a Loving so sublime that I forgot the Author of my Good Fortune. It almost seem’d Annie had workt in a Brothel breaking young Country Wenches to the Trade, for she so excited my Blood with her expert Touch that I would have sworn she had been train’d by Mother Coxtart herself, if not another Bawd!

Her Fingers play’d o’er my whole Body with that Lightness of Touch which more excites the female Blood than the heavy grappling most Men proffer. Her delicate white Hands seem’d to be Birds that flew and landed, flew and landed, hither and yon, from the Tips of my Toes to the inner Whiteness of my Thighs, then nested in that russet Thatch of Hair, so like her own. By teazing, tickling, pressing, squeezing, licking, she brought me to the Ultimate Conclusion of Love’s Pleasure. Not too swiftly (like an eager Swain) nor too slowly (like a clumsy one), but with just enough Delay to sharpen Pleasure, and with just enough Swiftness to satiate it, quite!

What Satisfaction do Women desire in loving other Women? Is it the Image of
themselves
reflected in the Body of another? Is it a kind of Mirror like the one Narcissus found in his beloved Pond? Is it an Affirmation of the Goddess in themselves? Or is it merely wanton Pleasure’s very Self?

What a curious Foursome were we! Two Men who lov’d each other, two Women who hated each other, and yet were bound, it seem’d, by Chains of Flesh. If I had any Doubt before that ’tis the Goddess who arranges our Fates, this Meeting with Anne Bonny upon the Seas should certainly erase that Doubt; and why—you soon shall see.

Lancelot, Horatio, and I were, ’tis true, starv’d for Love after our Shipboard Triangle of Abstinence. We three could not make love because of the strange Currents of Fealty and Passion that swirl’d about us. But now came Annie, a Stranger to our Pack; and oft’ ’tis easier to make love to a Stranger than to the beloved Brother that shares your Heart’s Affections! Or so I reason now.

Horatio would not tolerate Lancelot’s making love to me, yet o’er Annie, he felt no Dominion. Likewise Lancelot, who claim’d me for his own, could not square that with his Passion for Horatio. But Annie was a neutral Stranger, a Diplomatick No Man’s Land, a Pyrate of the Pudendum, a Doxie of Downshire, a Gaping Grotto, a Happy Harbour, a very Queen of Holes—and O ’tis easier to fill a Hole than leave it empty, for Nature quite abhors a Hole unfill’d!

Lancelot and I scarcely touch’d; Horatio scarcely touch’d Lancelot; but we all made love to Bonny as if in her we found another Lancelot, another Horatio, and another Fanny—all roll’d into one Being! Plato says that Human Love is but the passing Shadow of Divine; then may it be also that frequently we act out the Love we have for one Lover upon the Body of another? We three made Love to Annie with such Heat that verily it could scarce be Annie
herself
who evok’d such Love. But she—like the Lapdog that receives the Spinster’s Love, like the Statue of the Virgin that receives the Adoration of the Popish Worshippers, like the Footman that receives the Passions of his widow’d Mistress—took all our Loves most amiably and well; and now please hear what she gave us in Return….

CHAPTER XIV

Containing Anne Bonny’s Legacy to our Heroine; better Reasons for Female Pyracy than for Male; a very tragical Incident; and the Beginning of the Conclusion of our History—(but do not fear, we shall not leave our Reader without many more Epilogues, Appendices, and Farewells).

A
FTER OUR DEBAUCH, WE
four peculiar Lovers loll’d at our Ease drinking Sack and Claret, sleeping for sev’ral Hours entwin’d in each other’s Arms, then waking to talk quietly amongst ourselves; for oft’ ’tis true, that shar’d Pleasure softens the Aversions we may have felt before and brings ill-mated Rogues into the Orbit of Friendship. O short-liv’d Friendship mayhap, but Friendship just the same! And so it came to pass that I pour’d out my Heart to Annie concerning my missing Babe, my Childbirth Pangs, and e’en my Envy of her that she might have her Babes at Sea with her in training to be Pyrates—whilst I was bereft of my own Belinda! So I mus’d and so she (also soften’d by our mutual Flame) comforted me, for, i’faith, she preferr’d Women to Men for all her Swagger—and then I chanced to mention the
Cassandra
….

“The
Cassandra
ye say?” Bonny asks. “The
Cassandra
? Why, I saw that Ship careenin’ in Tartola when I crept into Roadtown Harbour aboard me little Pinnace to fetch me some fine Frocks from me English Taylor there!”

“When? When did you see her?” I askt. My Heart was pounding now with Hopes of finding Belinda.

“Not a Week past,” says Bonny. “Why, I heard tell she was damaged in the Riggin’ an’ the Hull by a Hurricano an’ put into Roadtown fer Repairs afore she sail’d fer me own Charlestown Harbour….”

“When would that be?” I askt.

“Why, I reckon ye could still head her off with a Fair Wind…. ’Twas said she plann’d to sail this very Day.”

Now Horatio and Lancelot were rouz’d from their Lethargies of satiated Lust.

“Do you hear that, Lancelot? We could o’ertake the
Cassandra
before she puts into Charlestown Harbour! We could catch the
Cassandra!
.” I leapt into the Air with sheer Joy and clickt my bare Heels together.

“I’d be careful, Lads,” says Bonny, “’twas not far from there that Blackbeard himself was fell’d in the shallow Shoals of Ocacock Inlet…. Ye must take the
Cassandra
afore she sails into Charlestown Harbour, fer tho’ Blackbeard dar’d blockade the Town seven Year ago—an’ with what fatal Consequence ye know—I’d scarce commend the same to ye!”

Whereupon, with greatest Generosity and Open-heartedness, Bonny offer’d us all her Charts and Maps of Charlestown Harbour, the Bahama Isles, and e’en the Caribee.

“From Roadtown Harbour, she’d sail Drake’s Passage to Anegado, then the Anegado Passage to the Open Sea. Ye’d take her off Anegado or off the Grand Bahama Bank with any Luck at all, an’ failin’ that, ye’d chase her up the Coast.”

“Praise God!” said Lancelot.

“Praise Goddess!” said I—which I suppose the others regarded as a mere Figure of Speech, tho’ I did not.

“I’d always help a Sister Pyrate in Distress,” said Annie Bonny, suddenly becoming the finest, bravest Woman I’d e’er met in all my Life. Whereupon she embraced me and wisht me Luck, Health, Happiness, long Life, the Return of my Child, my Ringlets, all my Heart’s Desires, and she made ready to reboard her Ship—tho’ not before she’d sent her First Mate to fetch the Charts she promis’d, for she was a Woman of her Word.