Hugin&Munin
Presenter Of Images
But if you clean it up a bit, it will go well with the furniture in your captain's cabin
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Figurehead
- Thread starter pyrosthenes
- Start date
Doragon
Tribune
We need the first one in higher resolution I think
Domodonno
Assistant executioner
This black & white for me is the best picture, it's epic in its setup, incl the sky in the background ...
Gee, say, would the type of 'crucification' the Gallion figurehead sailships usually showed also count?
Generally a female, this brave figure hung there in this very exposed position and still was believed
to guide the ship through every storm and dubious waters - around Cape Hoorn even - and protect
its good fate - a very responsible position.
Oh, yeah, I know: this didn't quite fit to what crucifixion meant; it was an artistic figure, sometimes
even made of copper or brass or bronze and then this was one female for all sailors to climb upfront
and down below the bowsprit and polish her body - usually naked above the hips - until she shines
and sparkles, in spite of her tender body diving into the sea in heavy weather.
If the Gallion figurehead wasn't well cared for, so usually was the entire ship. Some sailors even had
sworn they saw a ship leave harbor and her figurehead was dirty and with signs of rinses running down
over her boobs and down her body (then the ship was in worn paint and generally wanting repair, too)
and a bad feeling befell them regarding the journey, this ship was about to take on ...
... and, make a cross, it was never heard of again. Seems the ocean had taken in this deplorable existence.
Perhaps some guy or some girl would be prepared to make a new session of photos in the position
of such a figurehead - for the moment at anchor, not going through a full storm and heavy sea, sure.
There are ships today, even historical sail ships, that have no figurehead at all, simply because the
belief in its importance has vanished ...
Dom
Attachments
Tavy
Executioner
The Figurehead of the Baltimore Rose
Leave her! Captain Rogers barked. He had feared that bringing a woman aboard the ‘Baltimore Rose’ would lead to trouble, but after putting up a fierce resistance to their attack the merchantman “Melissa Barbara” was slowly but inevitably sinking so as well as bringing aboard specie and bonds found in the captain's cabin Captain Rogers felt unable to just leave the young female passenger to drown.
The crew scowled at their captain who had interrupted their fun with girl they'd captured. “She's alright, Sir. We’re just introducing ourselves to the young lady,” the boatswain obsequiously replied.”
“He means introducing himself into the lady,” laughed the cabin boy who seemed to have been busy emptying a bottle of rum while the rest of the crew had been concentrating their attention on their unexpected young passenger.
There then followed a quite disgraceful melee only brought to an end by Captain Rogers firing his pistol into the air.
“Right, you disgusting rabble. It's clear that the little bitch is turning you into an undisciplined rabble. We may come across another English ship at any time, the next one could even turn out to be a man o’ war and I will not have you pox ridden scum distracted by the continued presence of this unwanted cunt.
Miss Elouise Haddon-Smythe had never before heard herself referred to in such inelegant language. But she knew she had no choice but to throw herself at the Privateer Captain’s mercy. “Good Sir. You have already saved me from the cruel sea and are clearly a God fearing man. So I appeal to you to put me in a place of safety where I will no longer be a temptation to your intemperate crew.”
Captain Rogers looked Elouise up and down; she had lost her shoes and her dress had now been torn in several places baring flesh to his view. He stated at the exposed pale skin of her right thigh before spitting at the deck by her feet. “You'd have been well out of their way at the bottom of the ocean.”
“Please Sir!” she mumbled.
“Keel haul her!” squeaked the cabin boy before hiccuping and stepping back from the contemptuous stares of his shipmates.
“Some of us ‘aven't fucked ‘er yet,” someone grumbled from the midst of the crowd. A ripple of agreement passed through the crew.
“And you won't get to, either,” snarled the captain, “she's going over the side now.”
“Please no, Sir,” wailed the girl. “I beseech you, have mercy on me, if only for the sake of your own soul.”
Captain Rogers laughed. He found himself amused by the girl’s pathetic pleas. “You certainly won't be tempting my crew from beneath the waves.”
Elouise dropped to her knees and looked up at him beseechingly.
The captain stared at her for several seconds before calling out “Carpenter!” He glared at the restless crew: “The rest of you down below now! No! No you're not taking the bitch with you. Leave her here.”
“Carpenter!”
“Yes Sir. You want me to weight her down with chains? Or is she just to be left drifting about as food for the fishes ... I wonder if the poor maid can swim?”
Captain Rogers studied the torn remnants of the girl's fine clothes hanging from her shoulders. “Get rid of those rags, her finery would have been worth quite a few dollars back home if the fucking crew hadn’t ruined them.”
As the carpenter tugged and tore away Elouise’s last shreds of dignity the captain continued “Make fast a long tail of rope to each of her wrists and ankles. Put several round turns that can't slip on her wrists, she'll be hanging by them from now on.”
The carpenter quickly obliged, wondering if she was to be dangled over the sea from the end of a yard before being released to her fate in the cold grey heaving sea.
But the Captain had nothing so swift and merciful in mind. With the help of the doubt ridden carpenter he secured the ropes from the girls wrists to the bulwarks either side of the bowsprit, leaving her hanging below it, stretched across the worn, faded giltwork at the top of the stem.
The pain from the strain on Elouise's shoulders, pulled back and up by her stretched arms, took he breath away so that she snatched only shallow gasping breaths.
They hauled on the long ropes from her ankles so that she screamed out as her legs were spread and pulled back tight against the worn tarred planking of the schooner’s bows.
As they secured those ropes to the catheads Captain Rogers explained that although it was painful for her the slight upward pull should take some of the weight from her arms so she could still breathe.
As they walked back over the foc’s’le the carpenter boldly pointed out that it would have been kinder to let the poor girl die of asphyxiation from the strain on her ribcage if left to dangle from her outstretched arms.
“Maybe later...” Captain Rogers dismissively replied before shouting down to the cowering crew “Right you scurvy lot. You can come back on deck and if anyone still wants to fuck the English whore. She’s become the figurehead of our gallant vessel; but anyone who interferes with the ropes securing her will be over the side without their feet even touching the deck!”
Feigning disinterest several of the crew sauntered slowly towards the bow and peered curiously over the side. The cabin boy called back “Her hands are turning purple and I can't see her tits properly from here,” before clambering up onto the bowsprit and cautiously sliding forward along it and staring back down at the poor girl's stretched body then into her terrified eyes.
“You're still pretty miss,” he called down to her. “I'm sorry I can't help you.” Then he slid back to the security of the foc'sle deck.
Just before sunset the wind veered and the Baltimore Rose tacked. Now the spray from from the vessel's plunging bow was occasionally blown back across Elouise's chilled body feeling like little darts of ice.
Unable to move, losing feeling from her wrists and ankles all she could do was scream. “Fuck you all! Fuck! Fuck! Damn you all. Fuck! Burn in hell. All of you, and your families. Every fucking American.”
The grey light of a North Atlantic dawn gave no warmth to the still motionless figure stretched across the weather worn stem of the “Baltimore Rose”. Its head hung forward so that its straggly salt caked hair obscured its breasts.
The cabin boy crouched huddled in the bow, tears streaming down his face. Of more concern to Captain Rogers was the fact that three of his crew had gone missing, including the best topman, presumably lost overboard during the night.
Leave her! Captain Rogers barked. He had feared that bringing a woman aboard the ‘Baltimore Rose’ would lead to trouble, but after putting up a fierce resistance to their attack the merchantman “Melissa Barbara” was slowly but inevitably sinking so as well as bringing aboard specie and bonds found in the captain's cabin Captain Rogers felt unable to just leave the young female passenger to drown.
The crew scowled at their captain who had interrupted their fun with girl they'd captured. “She's alright, Sir. We’re just introducing ourselves to the young lady,” the boatswain obsequiously replied.”
“He means introducing himself into the lady,” laughed the cabin boy who seemed to have been busy emptying a bottle of rum while the rest of the crew had been concentrating their attention on their unexpected young passenger.
There then followed a quite disgraceful melee only brought to an end by Captain Rogers firing his pistol into the air.
“Right, you disgusting rabble. It's clear that the little bitch is turning you into an undisciplined rabble. We may come across another English ship at any time, the next one could even turn out to be a man o’ war and I will not have you pox ridden scum distracted by the continued presence of this unwanted cunt.
Miss Elouise Haddon-Smythe had never before heard herself referred to in such inelegant language. But she knew she had no choice but to throw herself at the Privateer Captain’s mercy. “Good Sir. You have already saved me from the cruel sea and are clearly a God fearing man. So I appeal to you to put me in a place of safety where I will no longer be a temptation to your intemperate crew.”
Captain Rogers looked Elouise up and down; she had lost her shoes and her dress had now been torn in several places baring flesh to his view. He stated at the exposed pale skin of her right thigh before spitting at the deck by her feet. “You'd have been well out of their way at the bottom of the ocean.”
“Please Sir!” she mumbled.
“Keel haul her!” squeaked the cabin boy before hiccuping and stepping back from the contemptuous stares of his shipmates.
“Some of us ‘aven't fucked ‘er yet,” someone grumbled from the midst of the crowd. A ripple of agreement passed through the crew.
“And you won't get to, either,” snarled the captain, “she's going over the side now.”
“Please no, Sir,” wailed the girl. “I beseech you, have mercy on me, if only for the sake of your own soul.”
Captain Rogers laughed. He found himself amused by the girl’s pathetic pleas. “You certainly won't be tempting my crew from beneath the waves.”
Elouise dropped to her knees and looked up at him beseechingly.
The captain stared at her for several seconds before calling out “Carpenter!” He glared at the restless crew: “The rest of you down below now! No! No you're not taking the bitch with you. Leave her here.”
“Carpenter!”
“Yes Sir. You want me to weight her down with chains? Or is she just to be left drifting about as food for the fishes ... I wonder if the poor maid can swim?”
Captain Rogers studied the torn remnants of the girl's fine clothes hanging from her shoulders. “Get rid of those rags, her finery would have been worth quite a few dollars back home if the fucking crew hadn’t ruined them.”
As the carpenter tugged and tore away Elouise’s last shreds of dignity the captain continued “Make fast a long tail of rope to each of her wrists and ankles. Put several round turns that can't slip on her wrists, she'll be hanging by them from now on.”
The carpenter quickly obliged, wondering if she was to be dangled over the sea from the end of a yard before being released to her fate in the cold grey heaving sea.
But the Captain had nothing so swift and merciful in mind. With the help of the doubt ridden carpenter he secured the ropes from the girls wrists to the bulwarks either side of the bowsprit, leaving her hanging below it, stretched across the worn, faded giltwork at the top of the stem.
The pain from the strain on Elouise's shoulders, pulled back and up by her stretched arms, took he breath away so that she snatched only shallow gasping breaths.
They hauled on the long ropes from her ankles so that she screamed out as her legs were spread and pulled back tight against the worn tarred planking of the schooner’s bows.
As they secured those ropes to the catheads Captain Rogers explained that although it was painful for her the slight upward pull should take some of the weight from her arms so she could still breathe.
As they walked back over the foc’s’le the carpenter boldly pointed out that it would have been kinder to let the poor girl die of asphyxiation from the strain on her ribcage if left to dangle from her outstretched arms.
“Maybe later...” Captain Rogers dismissively replied before shouting down to the cowering crew “Right you scurvy lot. You can come back on deck and if anyone still wants to fuck the English whore. She’s become the figurehead of our gallant vessel; but anyone who interferes with the ropes securing her will be over the side without their feet even touching the deck!”
Feigning disinterest several of the crew sauntered slowly towards the bow and peered curiously over the side. The cabin boy called back “Her hands are turning purple and I can't see her tits properly from here,” before clambering up onto the bowsprit and cautiously sliding forward along it and staring back down at the poor girl's stretched body then into her terrified eyes.
“You're still pretty miss,” he called down to her. “I'm sorry I can't help you.” Then he slid back to the security of the foc'sle deck.
Just before sunset the wind veered and the Baltimore Rose tacked. Now the spray from from the vessel's plunging bow was occasionally blown back across Elouise's chilled body feeling like little darts of ice.
Unable to move, losing feeling from her wrists and ankles all she could do was scream. “Fuck you all! Fuck! Fuck! Damn you all. Fuck! Burn in hell. All of you, and your families. Every fucking American.”
The grey light of a North Atlantic dawn gave no warmth to the still motionless figure stretched across the weather worn stem of the “Baltimore Rose”. Its head hung forward so that its straggly salt caked hair obscured its breasts.
The cabin boy crouched huddled in the bow, tears streaming down his face. Of more concern to Captain Rogers was the fact that three of his crew had gone missing, including the best topman, presumably lost overboard during the night.
Hugin&Munin
Presenter Of Images
I found a figurehead picture again.
Nobbes25
Senator
Ohhhaa, this is your new pictures, but i have it!
Sizzle
Assistant executioner
Wow...I just found this thread.
...and here I thought that I had a weird fetish!
(...imagining myself a damsel burned at the stake).
While I've long found figureheads sexy and cool, I never imagined that someone's primary fetish would be imagining themselves as such!
...the WONDERS of human sexuality!
I personally find it WONDERFUL that people might have this fetish!
...and here I thought that I had a weird fetish!
(...imagining myself a damsel burned at the stake).
While I've long found figureheads sexy and cool, I never imagined that someone's primary fetish would be imagining themselves as such!
...the WONDERS of human sexuality!
I personally find it WONDERFUL that people might have this fetish!
