"A Woman's Place is at the Helm"

[AngelEyes1994]

"A Woman's Place
is
At the Helm"

(closed)​

Elena Rogers
22 years old
5'6", 121#
35B-25-35 inches
Dirty blonde hair, bleached even more blonde by the Caribbean sun.
Gray blue eyes

On the second floor of the Black Heart Inn, Elena Rogers stood in the open doorway of her second floor office, gazing out upon the still waters of Black Rock Bay. More specifically, she was watching the anchored ships commanding a strategic position near the narrow, navigable portion of the bay's seemingly wide entry. Stationed as they were, they prevented the merchant ships currently anchored in the harbor or tied up to its docks from departing, as well as preventing those beyond the island's only port from arriving. In essence, sitting where they did, they brought the commerce of the settlement of Black Rock on the south shore of Turano Island to a halt.

That, of course, was a problem. Elena's income came mostly from the import and export of goods moving all about the Caribbean. She controlled 90% of the commerce coming in and out of Black Rock, and currently there was nothing moving at all.

But the problem wasn't just hers or the merchants here in the small settlement. It was also the problem of the very men -- the pirates -- blocking the harbor's mouth. Outside of the Bahamas to the northwest, Elena was the largest purchaser of goods pillaged by the pirates. More important than that, though, she was the only person -- male or female -- outside of New Providence who had a working relationship with legitimate cargo carriers who could move said cargo to ports in the Colonies for legitimate sale. And with that ability came higher prices for the pirates and, thus, a higher cut for herself.

The blockade of the port -- of her port! -- was harming not only Elena but the very high seas criminals who were enforcing it. She was lost in staring at the ships when she realized that someone was whispering for her attention. She turned to find one of her servants at the door with a nervous expression upon her face.

"Mistress...? They are here." She lowered her voice even further, clarifying, "The pirates."

(Closed to TheNextNewGuy and Alice2015.)

 

[Alice2015]

Ann Williamson
Pirate
26 years old.
5'8", 128#
32C-25-35
Auburn hair, often unkempt, often hidden under a work leather hat
Deep blue eyes.

Giving the servant a shove further into the room and -- more specifically -- out of her way, Ann entered the room, saying, "You say this ... pirate ... as if it were a dirty word, little girl."

The servant backed away, cowering, as the Caribbean's most feared woman entered the proprietor's office and immediately scanned it from left to right for dangers. She hadn't survived being a pirate for half of her life by taking undue chances. She looked to the blonde standing near the window and offered a wicked smile as she feigned a slight bow, saying with dripping contempt, "Gov'nor."

She began a slow pace around the room as the man behind her entered to make his own greetings. Her eyes scanned constantly: for dangers, warnings, clues, and rum, which she finally found on a shelf near the window and to which, without need for permission, made herself welcome, lifting the bottle to her wetted lips to consume in big gulps.

And the entire time, she was well aware of the looks she got from her royal fuckin' highness, Queen Elena Rogers of Turano island. She had never liked this woman. There was nothing personal, of course. It was all strictly business, and Ann very much disliked how Elena Rogers conducted her business in this little corner of the Caribbean. The pirate captains ruled through fear. Elena Rogers ruled through coin or -- more accurately -- her ability to deprive said pirates of that coin with the snap of her fingers.

Ann didn't like men having control or power over her, and with the exception of her current captain, no other man could be said to have either over her. The idea of another woman having that power was simply unbearable. Ann would pull the daggers from her belt and gut Elena Rogers here and now if she could. But, just as the Empress of Turano knew, and just as the other man now stepping up close to her knew, Elena Rogers was the soul reason pirating still existed in this part of the world.

She'd toured a full circle around the big office, watching Elena, gulping at the quality rum, and listening to the other two's greetings, finally arriving back near the door where the servant still cowered near the door having not yet been dismissed. Ann reached a hand out to the woman's face, uncharacteristically smooth and perfect in this day and age for a common servant. The trembling woman flinched a bit and backed half a step, trying to hide her fear but failing miserably.

"Come, m'dear," Ann whispered, caressing her dirty fingers over the woman's painted skin. She moved her thumb to the servants lips, pressing against them, then slid that digit our across the woman's cheek, smearing the red lip coloring over the plumb skin. "If'n I wished to hurt you, you wouldn't know so..." Ann moved in closer, her face now so close to the other woman's that it caused the fearful servant to look far to her left. Ann continued in a growling whisper, "...'cause you'd be already cut up on the floor ... painting it red, like your lips."

The servant whimpered and tried to look to her mistress for guidance. But Ann's face and well known hat blocked her view. Instead, it was the most famous female pirate of the New World who turned to look to the most powerful woman in that same new land -- after the various queens who ruled from across the sea -- to say, "I'll be taking this one to a room if you please."

She grasped the servant's wrist so tightly that the busty brunette cried out, then headed for the door...

 

[AngelEyes1994]

(OOC: While we wait for TNNG to create his pirate's background, I'll write the servant.)

Melanie felt herself dragged out of the room, down the hall, and into another room. A couple in the bed only partially undressed looked up with a combination of surprise and anger. At the sight of the infamous pirate, they immediately exited the bed, gathered their shed clothes, and headed out, with the man murmuring, "We'll find another room."

Melanie did not know it at the moment, but the man was from Ann's crew, and -- despite being a man in a man's world and her only being a woman -- he was not about to compete with her for something as easily replaceable as a bed in which to fuck. What Melanie did know was that her heart was pounding inside her chest. She had heard stories about the pirate, or more specifically about the female's sexual preferences.

"M'lady, please...! I am not a whore," Melanie said quickly, trying to end what seemed imminent before it even began. "I serve m'lady in other ways."

It was true. Melanie did not part her legs for the pirates, merchants, or laborers of Black Rock. She was not available to the general public, sexually or otherwise. She was Elena Roger's personal assistant. She served the merchant alone. Of course, that service was a bit more personal than was that most servants gave their employers. But few knew that, and certainly this pirate could not ... could she?

 

[Alice2015]

(OOC: This post is written with some agreed upon "god moding" of the servant.)

Ann unbuckled the belt riding high upon her waist, dropping the pair of short swords and their metal scabbards to the wooden floor with a startling clatter. As she began unbuttoning her heavy, salt-scented coat, she demanded, "Draw me a bath."

The servant hesitated. Ann neared her, studying her nervous reaction. Then, just feet from the woman, Ann half turned to set the coat on a chair, then quickly slipped a smaller knife from where it had been hidden and -- pressing a hand flat in the middle of the woman's generous chest and slamming her against the wall -- pressed the small but sharp blade against the servant's throat as she offered, "Draw me a bath of hot water...! Or ... I will fill the tub with your blood."

Ann held the panicked servant against the wall for a long moment, then let her gaze fall to the woman's breasts. She slid her assaulting hand left, to grope a large melon of flesh, groping it roughly. Moving even closer, she leaned in and sniffed at the woman. She looked into the woman's wide eyes, growling, "Jasmine. Put that in my bath ... so I can smell like a whore, too."

She backed away, removing the hand still grasping the servant's boob. She jerked her head toward the tub, once one half of a large rum barrel. As the woman hurried off to perform her duty, Ann demanded, "Hot enough to melt my face."

 

[AngelEyes1994]

Melanie watched as the pirate began shedding her weapons and heavy coat. She knew -- or thought she knew -- what was ahead: the woman was going to continue to strip until she was naked, and then likely insist that she did the same. Melanie had never been naked before anyone but her husband and her employer, Elena. She was not a whore. Could this woman not understand that the two of them would not be having sex with one another?

"Draw me a bath."

Melanie stared in surprise. She had not expected that. Still, it was something she was not inclined to do, and she continued to just stand there staring at the pirate. A moment later, in a move she had not seen coming, Melanie found herself pinned against the wall and a blade against her throat.

"Please, m'lady! she pled. "Please, don't kill me!"

Ann demanded, "Draw me a bath of hot water...! Or ... I will fill the tub with your blood."

Melanie's heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. Then, she felt the pirate's hand clutch one of her boobs. It angered her and pleasured her at the same time. Melanie enjoyed her boss, but she had never thought of it as enjoying women. Melanie did not have sex with women: she had sex with Elena. Melanie did not yearn women: she yearned Elena. So, why did this woman's hand upon her body excite her so? Or, was it the knife at her throat that was causing her heart to pound?

"Jasmine," the pirate whispered, surprising Melanie with her accurate identification of the seldom encountered, very expensive scent that Elena had given her for Christmas last year. "Put that in my bath ... so I can smell like a whore, too."

Melanie's frightened expression hardened a bit at the word. She knew she should not have, but she responded, "I am not a whore. I serve my Mistress as she wishes."

Ann released her from the wall and sent her on her way, demanding, "Hot enough to melt my face."

As she walked around the room divider to the fire place where a pot of water was always hot. Melanie checked the temperature with a dipped finger. It would not melt the pirate's face, but it was warmer than a dip in the Caribbean. She stoked the fire, added fuel, and began filling bucket after bucket to fill the tub. She only occasionally glanced at the pirate as she worked, seeing Ann continuing to shed her clothes. She was finding herself torn, now, about whether she would fight having sex with the woman if requested. For all Melanie knew, the rumors of Ann's preference for female lovers were just stories from her male counterparts, intended to hurt her reputation and put her -- a mere woman -- in her place amongst the crew.

 

[TheNextNewGuy]

James "Captain Cutthroat" Hamilton
Captain, The Orca
34 years old
6'0", 195#; slim, fit, muscular ... ripped!
Steel gray eyes.
Long, brunette, often scraggly hair.



(OOC: This occurs back at the beginning when the pirates first entered the office, before the scene between the servant and Ann. Someone forgot to send me the link, so I didn't know we were writing yet. Oops. )



James simply stood in the entrance to the office, staring at the business's owner, the most powerful woman on the island. At least, she had been before his and his partner's ships dropped their anchors in the bay's entrance and turned Elena into just another merchant unable to sell her goods. He watched as the Queen of Turano's own attention shifted from him to the woman slowly circling her and back again.

"I'll be taking this one to a room if you please," Ann said, taking the servant by the wrist and heading for the office's exit.

As she passed by him, James whispered, "I'll join you two later."

Ann only scoffed as she continued away from James, causing the man to laugh as he turned his attention fully back to the obviously angered woman standing before him. He studied her -- no, ogled her -- for a long moment. James had wanted to part Elena's thighs and bury his head between them from the day he'd met her at the still young age of 13. But her father had been Governor of Turano back then, with access to not one, not two, but three British warships, as well as a detachment of 100 battle hardened Marines, fresh off previous campaigns in the war against Spain. And these Noble types, James had learned, would not hesitate to unleash their trained killers upon any man who so much as peeked too long at their virginal daughters.

A beautiful teenage daughter was of little use to an ambitious Noble man if her purity was thought to be anything less than that of the clear mountain spring water that escaped the fissures in Mount Turano and supplied the little port city below. Such a Noble man would have a hard time advancing his financial or political position if there was even a hint that his daughter's bosom had enjoyed the feel of a man's clutching, let alone her hole having felt the thrust of the man's sword. And yet, these untouchable daughters were constantly parading around society with their torsos thinned by breath stealing corsets or their tits thrust upward by shape emphasizing bustiers. If these noble men didn't want other men -- particularly lesser men, men like James -- yearning for the blossoming bodies of their still too young daughters, why did they dress them up like port of call whores?

"I am pleased you were willing to take an audience with me and my kind, m'lady," James said, bowing to Elena in excess. He peeked up at her as if waiting for the Queen to gesture rise, but when all she did was just stare at him, he smiled broader and rose, asking, "What is it that the lady requires of this humble pirate captain?"

 

[AngelEyes1994]

(OOC:Someone forgot to send me the link, so I didn't know we were writing yet. Oops. )

(OOC: My bad.)

Elena heard the female pirate declare, "I'll be taking this one to a room if you please."

She did not stop the woman, though she should have. Melanie was her lover, not a common whore to be passed around between pirates. With the exception her own husband, the servant had never engaged in sexual activity with another soul, be it for her own pleasure or money or, as with Elena, both.

But then, this woman dragging her away to another room was no ordinary pirate, either. This was Ann "Two Blades" Williamson, the most feared female in all of the New World. Or at least to the other pirates and most of the citizens of Turano she was. Elena had no reason to fear the pirate, this one or the male one staring at her. Elena was the one thing standing between the pirates of the Lesser Antilles and destitution. Without her, the captains and crews of the two dozen or so pirate ships working the routes between Europe and primarily South America would have no where to sell their ill gotten gain.

The valued markets of the New World colonies would not deal with pirates directly, particularly since the majority of the pillaged goods had been destined for their ports on their ships in the first place. The pirates had to sell their booty to a reputable overseas merchant -- of which Elena's father was one -- to be laundered, in a sense, by mixing it with goods the woman's father could show legal title to. The pirates made money, Elena made money, her father made money. Everyone was happy, except for the merchant captains who had lost varying quantities of goods, crew, passengers, and/or craft along the way.

Elena heard the male pirate whisper, "I'll join you two later."

Although Ann scoffed at the man, Elena cringed at the statement. Unlike Ann, Elena could not be certain whether the man was toying with the other pirate and servant or stating his actual intent to join them after he had concluded his business here. Elena had first seen the pirate almost a decade earlier, and -- through business with his former captains and now Captain Cutthroat himself -- had come to know James Hamilton as well as she thought she could. And yet she still did not know him nearly as well as she would have liked, as was made obvious by the fact that she had no idea why he was blockaded her port.

James bowed to her mockingly, making light of her three day old request for him to come to her office and explain himself. He asked, "What is it that the lady requires of this humble pirate captain?"

"Why are you blocking my port?" she growled, never one to hold back her anger, even from a blood thirsty pirate. "Four days! Four days you have been sitting there, preventing my ships from entering or departing Black Rock. I have goods -- perishable goods -- rotting on the docks and in the holds of ships. Explain yourself, Captain?"

Elena would have preferred to use the word Asshole in the place of Captain. But regardless of his status within society as a criminal, James Hamilton was also a leader of men who respected him, and Elena had learned early in her dealing with these kinds of men that respect for them -- regardless of the nature of their business -- went a long way to getting from them what you wanted.

 

[TheNextNewGuy]

"Why are you blocking my port?" Elena growled, continuing on with her complaint.

When she finally went quiet, James' first response was, as typical, sarcastic. "Maybe you should feed all of that rotting food to the poor, m'lady. I'm sure that some where within your little queendom there are empty stomachs aching for the food now wasting away on the docks."

He looked about and, finding a bottle of rum, snatched it up and dropped into a chair before her desk. He took a gulp of it, commented on it being her good stash, then answered her question with a question. "Do you know what's happening at Sorada?"

He could see by her expression that she did. She likely knew more about it than James did. After all, while it was an opportunity to him, it was a threat to her. But as James like to share his knowledge with others and make him appear more informed than most, he continued, "They have cleared the port of underwater obstacles. Ships ... like my own ... can now safely enter the harbor."

The little island of Sorada lay 100 miles to the north of Turano, closer to the shipping lanes of the North America colonies and thus closer to the markets to which Elena and the more legitimate merchants sold 75% of their goods. But due to volcanic obstructions in the mouth of the harbor, larger ships like those James sailed had never before been able to get into the harbor. And because of the sudden drop off to the sea floor, there had never been safe anchorage beyond the port. The result was that since its establishment 40 years earlier, the tiny settlement of Sorada had remained just that: tiny. Little boats that could get in and out of the harbor supplied passing ships with clean water and local foods, but beyond that the economy had been almost entirely domestic in nature.

Then along came Philippe de la bombe. The French infantry man from the peasantry had invented an underwater mine that had caused a great deal of havoc in ports up and down the coast line of the British Isles. After they'd captured an unexploded mine, the British -- who now controlled Torada -- had learned to increase the bomb's size, weight it, and sink it to clear underwater obstructions in ports they controlled all over the world.

"Sorada is now open," James continued, "and my men want to move north. We would be closer to more valuable targets ... eastward moving gold ... westward moving slaves. And your little queendom here on Turano would die."

He took a big swig from the bottle as he studied Elena. He wondered what was going on behind that beautiful face, what questions she was contemplating, what responses she was generating. He knew what one of the questions was: what did all of this have to do with him blockading her port?

"Right now, nothing is leaving your port," James continued, again swigging at the bottle. "I just wanted you to have a taste of what was to come."

 

[Alice2015]

Ann continued shedding her work clothes, which were her only clothes. Ann didn't keep a wardrobe full of body coverings like she was sure Queen Elena did, or even the servant drawing her bath did. She had a second set of undergarments on the ship and a foul weather coat, but little more. Those clothes wreaked of salt as did the ones she was shedding, not that Ann would have noticed it. It was the scent of her life, and without it filling her nostrils Ann would be lost.

She caught Melanie glancing her way and only glared at her, causing the servant to return quickly to her work. Ann studied the woman for a moment. Unlike Melanie, there was no question in Ann's mind as to whether she would be having sex with a woman in a very short time. Ann's choice of women as lovers wasn't per se a matter of preference. Ann would have preferred to have a man's cock inside her, as was nature's way. But Ann couldn't give herself to a man. It would be the first step in her fall, from fearful pirate to mere woman. So, she would push this woman's face down into her groin and direct her on how to pleasure her sensitive body parts and find her release that way, as she had so many times before.

Ann dropped the last of her clothes within view of the servant, then made her way around the canopy to the bed, laying upon it face down. She was tired, and she knew the servant had several minutes of work ahead of her before the bath was ready.

She had no idea of just how tired she was, and in less time than it would have taken Melanie to tell her Your bath is ready, m'lady, Ann was asleep...

 

[AngelEyes1994]

(OOC: I am going to post separately for Elena and Melanie.)

Melanie

She had filled the bath with only a dozen gallons or so before she realized that the pirate had disappeared from her view. Melanie made her way around the bed and found Ann face down on the bed, passed out. Two thoughts rushed through her mind quickly: Good! as was the thought one would expect from a woman who just realized she now did not have to perform sexual acts on a person -- in this case a woman -- she did not want to have sex with; and Beautiful as was the thought one would expect from someone who discovered as beautiful and naked a body as was laid out before Melanie now.

Melanie knew that she now had the opportunity to flee the room. If Ann complained about it later, the servant could simply say she thought the woman needed her rest. And yet, she did not immediately head out. What was keeping her here? She did not want to service this pirate ... did she? No! Of course not! She was here against her will, out of fear ... right? So, why was she not heading for the door?

Melanie turned to stoke the fire again, adding another pair of small logs to push the huge kettle of water toward boiling. She then went out into the room to the other side of the bed. She stared at the sleeping woman, still trying to convince herself that she did not want this woman. She ogled Ann's firm, youthful ass, her lean legs, her narrow waist. They were beautiful, despite being tighter and more muscular than her own, not as womanly.

After a long moment of simply considering her current options. She chose to leave, first covering the pirate with a blanket from a nearby chair before slipping quietly out the door with the woman's clothing, which she would launder.

 

[AngelEyes1994]

Elena



Queendom.

Elena hated when people -- particularly the pirates, and especially this one -- talked about her in this way. She did not think she acted or operated like a queen. She did not even think she acted like a noble. Her father was a Lord, and his English titles held status out here in the Lesser Antilles, too. But Elena thought of herself as simply a merchant, a business woman.

Of course, she was not facing the facts. And those facts were that Elena used her father's nobility and the monopolizing power she had over merchant shipping -- particularly pillaged merchant shipping -- to control Turano as no official Governor had been able to before her, including her father.

"Do you know what's happening at Sorada?"

Sorada...

That little rock to the north was the greatest threat to her power than Elena had ever faced. After having abandoned Turano to the pirates a decade earlier, the British had hinted at sending the navy and marines in to retake the colony. But Lord Rogers had been able to delay funding of the forces that would be necessary to take the island, thereby preserving his daughter's control over the island and his cut of the wealth she generated there. And the pirates, too, had occasionally made waves for Elena. One by one, she had made deals with each of them, bringing them in line, though not necessarily under control.

Sorada, however, was entirely out of both her control and her father's influence. The King himself was directly responsible for the work taking place at Sorada, and any effort from her father to slow or cease the work would have resulted in his being stripped of his titles as a traitor. And it would have only been weeks before a fleet of English ships sailed into Turano to depose Queen Elena.

James continued his monologue, finishing, "I just wanted you to have a taste of what was to come."

"A taste?" she asked, knowing what he meant but not wanting to believe he would do this to her. "You've kept me from doing business for the past two days to show me what Turano will be like when you and your fellow captains move to Sorada." She turned away and moved to the French doors that looked out onto the bay, his two ships, and the half dozen more sitting idle either in the harbor or at the docks. She did not want to ask the question, but she knew it was why he was here. Without turning to face him, Elena asked, "What do you want to stay here? What do you want from me?"

 

[Alice2015]

Ann hadn't slept since the pirate ships dropped anchor in Black Rock Bay two days earlier. The two crews hadn't been too happy about being restricted to the ships fresh food, strong rum, and warm women were so close. There had nearly been a mutiny on one of the vessels, and a vote to elect a new captain on the second ship -- one that would allow shore leave -- had only not been taken when no volunteer could be found to replace Captain Cutthroat.

Ann was a respected member of James' crew, but that didn't mean much when the crews were discontent. An unhappy pirate was a dangerous pirate. And while Ann was more dangerous than most of the 30+ pirates typically berthed aboard the ship, she was -- in the eyes of some of them -- only a slit. If the men couldn't find their pleasures in the whore houses of Black Rock Bay, and they weren't inclined to find them in the asses or mouths of their fellow male pirates, then Ann became the logical place to achieve release and relief.

She was relieved herself when James included her in the boarding party to come meet Elena, and now she was finally able to relax. She slept through the servant's work, through Melanie's covering her with a blanket, and through her departure. She wouldn't wake for hours, unless someone woke her...

(OOC: She will sleep for up to 10 hours unless she is woken. You two have fun until you need me. I'll be reading. )

 

[TheNextNewGuy]

James "Captain Cutthroat" Hamilton
Captain, The Orca



"What do you want to stay here?" Elena asked. "What do you want from me?"

"More than you're willing to give me," James answered quickly. He didn't continue until Elena turned to look at him. "My crew works hard ... risks their lives with every boarding. It is a dangerous life. And what do you give me for that I bring you...? Fifteen percent. Fifteen percent. One Crown for each seven Crowns I bring you."

He swigged at the rum again before continuing, "And ... do you give me that paltry amount when I give you my cargo...? No. You give me half only after you find a buyer, and half after you make the sale. Who pays my men in the mean time...? Who give them the coin that they then spend in your inns and whore houses...? Me! I give them that money from my own treasury, if I have a treasury."

Times had been lean recently, and there had, in fact, been times when the treasury of The Orca had nearly been empty. It was, in fact, why the crew had been restricted to the ship for the past two days. James couldn't reveal to them that the latest repairs and restock had depleted their reserves.

"And if the price you promised me is higher than the price you got," he continued with his analysis, "you take the difference out of the Orca's share. The Orca's coin. My coin. The miscalculation is yours. Why is it not coming from your share?"

James had long believed that the occasional shortcomings in the second part of his crew's cut had actually gone into Elena's pocket. He had no proof, of course. But he thought that it was a bit coincidental that on those times when The Orca was shorted, his spies within her businesses talked of her spending large sums of money on various ventures.

James paused, allowing Elena only enough time to begin her response to his last question before interrupting her with his new demands. "Twenty percent for my crew. Five percent for me ... and that remains between you and I."

The crew would cheer his first demand, of course. But they would likely vote him out of his position if they were to hear the second. Currently, each member of the crew got one share of the sale of their loot and the captain got two shares. Five percent for a captain of a ship in which his crew split twenty percent, however, was the equivalent of twenty shares! No captain in the history of Caribbean pirating had ever received such a cut. If his crew was ever to hear of it, they would string him up to the mast and pelt him to death with his ill gotten portion of his ill gotten gains.

James continued, "You pay half upon delivery..." He meant, of course, from us to you not you to the buyer. "...and half before the freight leaves Turano on the ships of your law abiding captains. And if you do not get the price you wanted, you take the loss."

He stared at her awaiting her reply as he continued to drink her good rum.

(OOC: Sending you a PM. Read it before you post for "god moding" you can do. )

 

[AngelEyes1994]

(OOC: Thanks TNNG. I do not need to god mode. I stopped to let you do it. But thanks.)

Elena Rogers

Elena had expected James to make some demands she would find difficult to stomach, demands that she would counter to find a compromise. But she had never expected these! Twenty percent for the crew of the Orca she could have lived with, but an additional five percent percent for James alone...? Plus she had to put more of the money up front and wholly absorb the losses that the ever fluctuating economy sometimes caused. She simply could not -- and more importantly would not -- pay that amount of money to him.

For a long moment, Elena stared at James with a hard, silent stare as he stared back at her with a confident, knowing smirk. He knew that as long as she could do nothing to remove his ships from the harbor's entrance, he was in charge. And she knew that there were only four ways to make a pirate remove his ships from the mouth of a harbor he was blockading:

The first was to bribe James' crews to vote him out as Captain, replacing him with a man who would relocate the ships, preferable into the harbor and closer to the coin, food, booze, and pussy that would be the basis of Elena's bribe. It was not uncommon for pirate crews to vote out their captain simply for a night of revelry in port. Of course, it also was not uncommon for the man or men who initiated such treachery to come to some level of harm -- even death -- once the deposed captain regained power. But such was the lure of coin, food, booze, and -- particularly -- pussy upon men who had been at sea too long, risking their lives for just those very four staples of life.

The second was to bribe pirates of other ships to attack the Orca and her sister ship. They could board her under the veil of darkness, fight hand to hand, and take the ships; or use their cannons to first assault the ship, enticing the attacked to voluntarily relocate. There was, of course, no chance that any pirate in the Lesser Antilles was going to do that for Elena against Captain Cutthroat.

The third was to give James what he wanted. Elena had not been inclined to do that even before he suggested she lay back upon her bed and open her thighs to him.

In reality, the fourth option had been Elena's only option. High on the cliffs behind Black Cove sat the fort that the British had once used to maintain their control over Turano's only port. For almost a decade it had been in the hands of yet another pirate, Captain William "One Arm" Howard, a man who had no love for Captain Cutthroat but did have working relationship with Elena. Additionally, with the blockade in place, William was being prevented from being paid by Elena for the goods his own ships had recently delivered to her warehouses. Elena could pay William to train his 36 pound guns -- salvaged years earlier from a grounded French war ship -- on the two ships sitting in the harbor. James' smaller guns, particularly at sea level, were no threat to the fort. And even the threat of pounding the settlement to spite Elena was of little threat because by the time the pirates had begun lobbing their first volleys, their masts would have been toothpicks and their holds growing infernos.

Unfortunately, James had gotten to William even before Elena realized Black Rock was being blockaded. Her spies -- aka the whores frequented by pirates, including Howard's own men -- had discovered that James had paid the fort's owner a heavy bag of Crowns for his cooperation. James had bought the silence of William's guns for 10 days while -- as the whore quoted her bed mate -- "...I deal with the Slit who has all of our dicks in her hand without the pleasure we would expect to accompany such an act."

Slit. Elena endured the description of her and her gender with ease. She was used to the often profane descriptions and criticisms of her. But James' terms were boiling her over. Even negotiating a middle point would put her at a significant drop in profit, to the point that it might no longer be profitable to even remain in business with the pirates. Unfortunately, without the pirates, Elena could not earn enough gold via legitimate business to remain in power on Turano. Without the pirates, she did not exist. Three months after the last purchase of their pilfered goods she would be bankrupted and forced into exile by the good people of Turano. She would be on a boat back to merry old England, where her disappointed father would be waiting to slap her across the face shortly before introducing her to the elderly and likely ugly Noble man to whom he had arranged his beautiful daughter's marriage.

At this point, negotiation with James was Elena's only option. Or ... was it?

As she continued to stare silently into the man's eyes, she realized that one of her options -- the first, bribing his own men -- was still viable. The crews of The Orca and her sister ship The Samantha had been restricted to their ships for two days, and for two days the men had been imagining the smell of strong rum, roasted pork, and inviting pussy. A couple more days of deprivation and they would would vote James and his sailing partner out of their Captainships, if only for a single day of revelry. She just needed time.

"I'll need until tomorrow, possible the next day," she finally spoke, "to look at the numbers. I can not meet your current demands, but ... I may be able to meet you somewhere in the middle, but I need--"

 

[TheNextNewGuy]

(OOC: Perfect cut off point! )


As Elena continued, "...I may be able to meet you somewhere in the middle, but I need--"

James suddenly laughed, loud and long. As Elena went silent, the pirate stood from the chair and walked over to lean slowly toward her, his palms flat on her desk, elbows locked. With each of them leaning over their respective sides of Elena's desk, James' face was barely a foot from her own. They stared into one another's eyes for a moment before he said firmly, "These terms are not negotiable."

He cocked his head a bit, his lips spreading wider. He looked to her lips as if wanting to put his mouth to them, then looked to her breasts as if wanting to do the same to them. When he looked back up to her eyes again, "And I will be wanting one more thing from you ... Elena."

He only stared into her eyes, knowing that she would understand what he was implying.

 

[AngelEyes1994]

OOC:

• First, I am not an expert in 18th century naval artillery. I made an error in this post by stating that the guns in the fort were much smaller than would have been scary to a pirate who ship was sitting a mile out in the harbor. That error has been corrected. If you only began reading our story after 29 November 2015 then you did not see the error ... so ignore this.
• I have also -- with my writing partners' permissions -- changed another "fact" about the cannons in the fort, now stating that they can in fact reach the ships sitting a mile away out in the mouth of the harbor. From my reading, a 36 pound cannon is supposed to be able to hit a target almost 2 miles away. Again, if you began reading after 29 October...

"And I will be wanting one more thing from you ... Elena."

She knew what James wanted from her, of course. It did not take the ogle of her breasts to tell her so. The hints and ogles of men were commonplace in her life. Often it was not mere hints from men but open declarations of their desire to ravage her body. Elena took the comments in stride. She had to. She had chosen this life as an Inn Keeper, as a Merchant of pirate pillage, as ... as a single woman cavorting with hard men, with drunkards, with killers, with thieves.

For all the hundreds of men who had told her their wants and the thousands of them who had only imagined speaking them, only three had ever fulfilled those fantasies. And James Hamilton was not about to be number four. Elena was about to rise from her leaning position and slap the fucker silly -- despite knowing that he would likely respond with violence of his own -- when beyond the pirate there was movement, then a light knock upon the door frame.

"Mistress Rogers," one of her men called with subservience, "your presence has been requested on the floor."

She did not look up, instead continuing to stare into the pirates hungry eyes. She called past him, "Who...? Who has requested me."

"Captain Howard, Mistress."

Elena hesitated before cocking her head to meet James' earlier gesture. "Perhaps he has changed his mind about blowing you the fuck to hell ... so he can get paid his meager twenty percent."

She had not expected to see surprise in his eyes as what she said, of course. The payment from James to William would never have remained secret for long. Her spies were very skilled at getting information from men whose cocks had just spent time in their mouths, pussies, and -- with a few of the girls -- asses. And the higher percentage paid to William for his pillaged goods was public knowledge amongst the pirates, as was the monthly flat payment. The man protected Black Rock with his guns. Of course he was going to get more for that service.

She rose to height to depart...

(OOC: If James says nothing to stop her, she will leave.)

 

[TheNextNewGuy]

Elena said, "Perhaps he has changed his mind about blowing you the fuck to hell ... so he can get paid his meager twenty percent."

James only widened his smile a bit. He knew that the threat of William changing his mind and sending volleys over the settlement, across the bay, and into the hull and mast of his ship was always a possibility. But he also knew that William's short term gain -- getting paid for the goods sitting in Elena's warehouses -- was greatly outweighed by the man's potential long term loss, the respect and cooperation of William's fellow pirates. Without their fellow pirates watching their backs, individual pirates, their lone ships, and their small crews could never survive against the combined naval and land forces of the European nations that ruled the various coastal colonies of the New World.

He watched the merchant turn away and depart, then -- under the watchful stare of the man at the door -- snatched up the bottle of rum and departed as well. Down in the tavern portion of the Inn which was also Elena's place of business and residence, James watched as the object of his desires greeted the man whose pockets were filled with his own coins. The two men made eye contact, giving one another a polite nod of acknowledgment. James wondered what was on the fort owner's mind. Could he be rethinking his deal with Captain Cutthroat?

Finding one of the trusted men who had accompanied him to shore, James asked, "Where's Ann?"

The man looked upward, toward the rooms where his restricted crew wished they were currently. James told his man to keep an eye on William and Elena, then ascended the stairs to the indicated room. As he approached the door, Elena's girl emerged, carrying what James immediately recognized as Ann's clothing. He gave the servant a questioning expression.

"The lady's laundry," Melanie informed the pirate.

"Is she alone?" James asked.

The servant nodded. "Sleeping."

He hesitated a moment, then gestured the woman away. Once Melanie was gone, James entered the room, quietly and slowly. He searched the room for his crew man, and not finding her made his way across the wooden floor to peek around to the open side of the canopy. Ann was indeed sleeping, with only a thin blanket covering her. James studied her for a long moment. He knew she was naked below the cover, not only because he'd seen the servant departing with Ann's undergarments but because the female pirate's womanly form was so well displayed beneath the thin cloth.

Like every other man aboard the Orca, James had long yearned to sink his cock deep inside Ann Williamson. She was a woman. That was enough of a reason for him to desire her. But -- when bathed and wearing clean clothes, which wasn't often -- she was also a beautiful woman. And she was a strong, confident woman. And there was nothing a manly pirate liked more than remind a strong, confident woman that she was only a woman by showing her that he was a man.

James approached the bed, took hold of the single blanket covering Ann, and slowly pulled it back to reveal her naked back side. As he stared at it, he realized that it would be so easy to bare his groin, lay his weight upon her, and take his pleasure from her. But, as with William's short term gain and long term losses, James had a choice as well: enjoy the short term and immediate gain of release or deal with the long term and eternal threat of waking in pain to find Ann's standing over him with one of her daggers in one hand and his family jewels in the other.

Instead, he only pulled the blanket back over Ann's bottom half and made his way out of the room and inn.

(OOC: You will not see James again for the day unless something occurs to cause me to bring him back into the story. You girls have fun. )

 

[AngelEyes1994]

Melanie and Elena both:

As she closed the door behind her, Melanie's heart leaped at the sight of Captain Cutthroat standing just behind her. She saw him glance to the clothes in her hand. Melanie felt the blood rush from her face, fearing that his first thought would be that she was stealing the female pirate's belongings. She explained with a soft voice, "The lady's laundry."

"Is she alone?"

"Sleeping," she responded with a nod.

She eagerly departed upon James' gesture, hurrying down the back stairs to the laundry at the back of the Inn. A trio of women -- three generations of the same family, in fact -- raked clothes over wash boards, dunked them in gray water, twisted them free of the majority of their water, then hung them on lines strung between the buildings to catch the warm rays of the midday sun. Melanie turned over the garments, but instead of identifying the room they should be returned to once dried and shaken free of their stiffness, she told the women, "Call me -- me! -- when you are finished with these. I will return them."

The women did not question Melanie, particularly after she handed them an extra coin. If Elena's personal servant wanted to provide this service to an Inn's occupant, there had to be a good reason for it. They returned to their work as she returned to the tavern. Inside, she stopped short at the sound of her employer's voice just beyond a thin wood and cloth curtain screen.



Elena sat almost shoulder to shoulder with William Howard, each of them looking out into the tavern, keeping an eye on those who were, in turn, keeping an eye on them.

"Why are you coming to me with this?" Elena asked almost in a whisper. "I can't do anything about this."

"If Sorada becomes the new center of commerce," William responded, "for the Lesser Antilles' less reputable types--"

"Your types," Elena clarified.

"Your type as well, my dear," William countered. "Turano dies. Turano dies, you die ... I die."

They sat in quiet for a moment before Elena asked, "What do you suggest?"

"Make a deal." When Elena looked at him with a knowing -- and disapproving -- expression, he confirmed what he knew she was thinking. "Make a deal with James. I can't fire on his ships. I might force him to withdraw, but..."

He did not finish, and Elena did not ask him to do so. She knew what his concern was. Again they sat in silence for a long moment before she said, "I need time." William was about to speak, and Elena knew what he was about to say. She stressed, "Please, William. I need a day ... maybe two."

"For...?" he asked, knowing that she was working on something he was not going to like.

She rested one of her two hands upon his only remaining one, saying, "Please, William. Two days."

He clutched her hand in his for a moment, then stood and finished his mug of ale. He smiled to her, saying, "I promised James ten days. He has eight left. I love you, M'lady, and I care for what happens to you, so ... I will give you three days ... three ... to figure out what you are going to do. After that, I must stop thinking about you ... thinking about James ... and start thinking about myself, and my men."

They parted after sharing smiles, and a moment later, Elena said without turning, "Melanie."



The servant had been standing in the shadows in silence, listening intently. She flinched at the sound of her name, not out of guilt of having been eavesdropping -- which was part of her job description -- but at realizing that she had not been as well concealed as she had thought. How...? she thought, considering Elena's ability to know of her presence. Then, she caught her boss's reflection in the smooth surface of a cutlass hanging upon a hook where an intoxicated pirate -- currently involved with a whore at the bar -- had left it behind. She smiled, then circled around to the table.

"Ann?" Elena asked.

"Upstairs," Melanie informed her. "Sleeping."

"Alone?"

Melanie nodded.

"Did you...?" Elena began, not needing to finish.

Melanie's face flushed as she quickly answered, "No, Mistress. Of course not. I would not."

Elena studied her servant and lover for a moment. "Would you not?

"No, Mistress."

"You do with me, though."

Melanie's gaze dropped to the floor, her face again filling with heat. Not looking up, the embarrassment of being another woman's lover clashing with her Catholic upbringing, she said softly, "Yes, Mistress."

"Why?" Elena asked simply. "Why with me and not that pirate?"

Melanie peeked up, then back down again. "You are my Mistress ... my employer."

"Is that the only reason?" Elena asked. "Because I pay you?"

Melanie did not respond. She did not know how to respond. Until just minutes earlier when she laid her eyes upon Ann's naked form, Melanie had never had an urge to feel another woman's body against her ... another women's nipples in her mouth ... another woman's mouth between her thighs. She had always thought her affair with Elena was all about work and money: Elena was -- is -- her boss, and putting her mouth to Elena's sensitive flesh when requested brought Melanie far more money than anything else she was qualified to do on the island.

"I'll will pay you," Elena said. When she saw uncertainty in her servant's face, she clarified, "I will pay you to sleep with Ann Williamson." She saw Melanie's eyes widen and her lips part a bit in surprise. "I need you to get close to the woman. Need you to make her want to stay behind ... stay here, when James returns to his ship."

"Why me, Mistress?" Melanie asked, her voice filled with both dismay of being asked such a thing and the excitement of the possibilities. "Why not one of--"

"Because Ann has taken an interest in you," Elena cut in, assuming that the pirate had taken Melanie away with the intent of being pleasured by her. She rose and approached the woman. She peeked past her lover and found at least half a dozen faces looking her way. She would have loved nothing more than to kiss Melanie passionately right here, right now. But while her sexual relationship with the woman was rumored, the two had never done anything within sight of others to confirm the stories. Instead she only whispered as she walked by to return to her office upstairs, "And because I know you can do the job well."



Melanie postponed her return to the room upstairs for two hours. She had not been able to keep Ann's body out of her mind after leaving the room, but not that memory was fighting for attention with Elena's request that she service that body. When she finally did return, she took with her a large platter full of food and a jug of rum ... and was dressed a little more scantily.

 

[Alice2015]

Ann had slept soundly through her Captain's viewing of her naked form earlier, but the sudden yelp from the direction of the stone fire place jolted her awake with an immediate, instinctive thought of self preservation. As she leaped from the bed and searched about herself, she found the servant exactly where she'd left her, standing over the rum keg bathtub.

"Sorry, m'lady," Melanie apologized..

The servant was clutching her fingers with a look of pain in her face. She had obviously burned herself on the hot water that was sending a cloud of steam into the air. Ann caught Melanie's gaze falling to her naked body. She didn't cover herself. She had no need to. She was going to need to be naked for Melanie to do the two things she wanted anyway: bathe her, then pleasure her. She made her way around the bed's draping canopy, out of view, into view, out of view again, before finally coming about the wood and fabric room divider to appear within arm's reach of the other woman.

"What is your name, girl?" Ann asked.

"Melanie."

Ann studied her face for a moment, then let her eyes drop to the clothes the servant was now wearing. She said unnecessarily, "You changed."

"Yes, m'lady."

"Why?" she asked simply.

 

[AngelEyes1994]

(OOC: Thanks for the list of damage. I mention them below but only vaguely.)

Melanie had been back to Ann's room three times over as many hours, bringing food, drink, and one of her own robes for the woman to wear while her own clothes dried on the line outside. She had let the water over the fire nearly begin to boil before she realized her error. Her second error, obviously, was allowing the scalding liquid to splash upon her as she dumped yet another bucket full into the tub. She flinched in surprise as the pirate leaped from her bed, then diverted her eyes to the floor upon spying the woman's still naked form. She apologized, "Sorry, m'lady."

She expected Ann to immediately begin a search for something to wear, but instead the woman made her way slowly around the bed and divider to stand just two feet away. Melanie tried to keep her gaze from Ann's body, but it was simply impossible. It was not only the youthful curves that drew her gaze but the multitude of scars as well. Melanie did not know whether to be horrified or impressed with the damage to Ann's body. She had seen men with these types and numbers of scars -- mostly from blades, others from shot, and still more from simple accident -- but she'd never seen a woman bear the evidence of pirate life in the way Ann Williamson was at this moment. She wanted to reach out and touch them, to feel the scarred tissue, to feel and see the woman's reaction. She did not.

The pirate asked, "What is your name, girl?"

"Melanie."

She glanced up into Ann's eyes before again looking to her body, this time to her breasts. Even those firm womanly orbs bore the evidence of battle that was typically a man's domain. A thin slash mark ran from Ann's clavicle down the outer round of the orb, disappearing on the woman's side near her arm. As she wondered what had caused such an interesting scar, the pirate asked her why she had changed her clothes. Melanie was not immediately certain what answer to give. She was still uncertain as to whether she was doing what she was doing because Elena was ordering and paying her to, or because she herself wanted to.

Melanie was not a whore, but the answer that finally came out of her mouth belied that. With her eyes downcast again, she said, "My Mistress wishes you to be pleased with the Inn's service, m'lady. I ... I am only doing my duty to my Mistress."

 

[Alice2015]

"I ... I am only doing my duty to my Mistress."

Ann was not disappointed in the servant's response. She was not looking for a relationship. She was looking for sexual release ... sexual satisfaction. She couldn't care less whether or not the woman wanted to be here, wanted to serve her, in or out of the nearby bed. Ann only cared that Melanie did her job well.

She looked to the tub and the cloud of steam rising from it. Carefully dipping a finger in it, she smiled. Ann murmured, "Melt my face off." She looked back to Melanie and contemplated skipping the bath and returning to the bed for sex. But she was in no hurry. Ann looked behind her to the food she'd noticed earlier, then -- donning the robe Melanie had provided -- sat at the table. She gestured the servant to sit with her, and when Melanie didn't immediately take up the invitation, she commanded, "Sit! Sit ... eat with me."

Once Melanie was sitting across from her, Ann just studied the woman in silence for several minutes as she ate from the platter and drank from the pitcher. The servant seemed nervous, unable to maintain eye contact. She asked finally, "Are you afraid of me, girl?"

She listened to Melanie's answer, then asked, "Are you a whore? Or do you fuck just for the fun of it?"

Again, she listened to the woman's response, then asked, "Does Queen Elena pay you to suck her pussy?"

Once more, she followed Melanie's explanation. After a moment she asked with a slight smirk, "Is your boss paying you to suck my pussy? And if so ... why...? What does she want?"

 

[AngelEyes1994]

"Sit! Sit ... eat with me."

Melanie returned the bucket to near the fire place, then crossed to sit with the pirate. She tried to hide her nervousness but failed. She continually diverted her eyes, feeling the unending stare of the woman between her own glances toward Ann. Why was she so nervous?

"Are you afraid of me, girl?" the other woman asked suddenly.

"No," Melanie answered quickly.

She actually was, a bit any way. Ann could pick up one of the nearby swords and slice it through the air in a flash, severing Melanie's head off as easily as she was now cutting meat from the bone on her plate. She did not actually think Ann would do something like that. But just the knowledge that she could...

"Are you a whore?" Ann asked.

"No!" Melanie answered quickly.

Ann continued, "Or do you fuck just for the fun of it?"

Melanie was a whore, in a sense. She would not remain Elena's lover if her employment with the merchant came to an end. So ... did that not mean she was getting paid to pleasure the woman? To the other half of Ann's question, Melanie said, "I don't fuck! I mean ... I fuck-- I make love with, my husband. But I don't ... not others ... I don't fuck other people. Only my husband."

Melanie's eyes had been diverted, only glancing up in quick, short flashes. She knew that her tone and body language was betraying her. And it was only going to get worse as the questions continued.

"Does Queen Elena pay you to suck her pussy?"

"I don't!" Melanie countered quickly. "Why would you...? I don't-- Why do you think... She-- My Mistress, she doesn't pay me to ... to do that ... because, I don't! Why would you think I do that?"

"Is your boss paying you to suck my pussy?" Ann continued, turning the questions to what was surely ahead, rather than what was possibly behind. "And if so ... why...? What does she want?"

"She doesn't want anything!"

Melanie realized that she had responded first to the last part of the multipart, very personal question. She felt her face exploding with a fiery blush, partly from the guilt of having to hide her Mistress's intent to keep the pirate close; and partly from the yearning inside her that was more personal than business, contrasting Ann's suspicion that it was more business than personal.

"My Mistress does not want anything from you," Melanie finally managed in as calm a voice as she could. She drew a deep breath, causing her plentiful bosom to swell noticeably upwards in the tight fitting bustier. After she released the air, she continued tentatively, "I ... I am here because ... you invited me." She chuckled, remembering that the invitation had been Ann grasping her by the arm and dragging her away. "And ... if I ... if I lay with you ... I do so because I want to. Not because anyone is paying me. Not ... not because my Mistress is paying me. I am no whore. I ... I do as I want ... with whom I want ... for my own reasons."

 

[Alice2015]

"My Mistress does not want anything from you," Melanie managed after a long, calming pause.

Ann didn't believe the woman, of course. It was well known that Elena's power rested as much in the information her whores gleaned from their customers -- pirates and otherwise -- as in the sale of the pillaged goods from those pirates and otherwise with which she filled her warehouses. And the scuttlebutt about Black Rock -- often spread by those very same whores -- about how the sounds of sex coming from within Elena's quarters were often followed by the departure of Melanie from that very same space only convinced Ann that the two women were lovers and that Elena would not give Melanie over to a mere pirate -- gender irrelevant -- unless she wanted the woman to glean her own rumors and secrets during those often unguarded moments after sexual euphoria.

"I ... I am here because ... you invited me," Melanie continued, finishing her rambling declaration with, "I am no whore. I ... I do as I want ... with whom I want ... for my own reasons."

Ann studied the woman for a moment, and when Melanie was finally able to look up into her eyes for more than just a few seconds, Ann smiled. She bit into an apple that was crisp and sweet, meaning that it had likely come from Queen Bitch's personal pantry, and chomped on it until she was able to ask, "And ... what would be your reason for putting your mouth here?"

She turned slightly in the chair in which she was slouched back and allowed the robe that had been showing off her cleavage to fall away and show a great deal more. She spread her knees revealing the thick muff of curly brown hair above the folds of brown and pink flesh at the meeting of her thighs...

 

[AngelEyes1994]

Melanie's eyes widened and her face again flooded with red as Ann opened her gown and legs to display her pussy, asking, "And ... what would be your reason for putting your mouth here?"

She laughed nervously, hesitated, then pushed her chair back and stood. She hesitated again. She could not believe she was going to do this. Melanie had only had two lovers in her life, one male and one female, one her husband and one her employer. This simply was not her. And yet, she was slowly circling around the table, dropping a pillow from one of the chairs to the hard wood, and dropping to her--

She reeled back a bit, looking away with surprise. When she looked back to Ann, she said in a tone that was not meant to embarrass the woman, "You really need that bath."

 

[Alice2015]

Ann widened her knees a bit more, taking a deep breath in preparation for that familiar and wonderful feeling of a woman's mouth upon what her Captain jokingly called The treasure chest all men searched for but none would find.

Then, suddenly, the woman kneeling on the pillow pulled back her head with a grimace upon her face. "You really need that bath."

Ann stared stone face, shocked, not so much at the statement that she was in desperate need of cleansing -- she knew that already -- but at the fact that the woman being paid, presumably, to delay her departure by eating her pussy would have the gall to say such a thing so bluntly.

But after a moment of the pirate staring with an angered look at Melanie and the servant staring with a sympathetic expression, Ann suddenly burst out in laughter. She lifted a bare foot to Melanie's chest and gave her a gentle shove back off her knees to her haunches as she stood tall before her, again to laugh aloud.

"Fine, Miss Jasmine," Ann said turning for the bath as she recalled the wonderful scent she'd detected on Melanie hours earlier. She shed the robe and crossed to the tub naked, again dipping a finger into the water. It was perfect, hotter than most would be able to stand but everything she liked in her too infrequent baths.

She dipped one foot in slowly, then the full leg, then slung the other over and sunk it as well. She turned to look at the other woman as she ever so slowly lowered her body into the hot water. Her face was alternately filled with painful winces from the heat and soft moans of delight ... again from the heat. She hadn't had a hot bath in months, and -- like always -- it brought back to her memories of her rural upbringing before she joined the ranks of high sea criminals.

Eventually, the level of the tub -- rising as she displaced the water in it -- exceeded the location of her always pert nipples. She laid her head back against the added on head block and closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling. After Melanie joined her near the tub, she murmured, "Jasmine..."