The Great Petticoat Plunder

About eight hundred miles off the colonial american coast, a ship is sailing for England. Uboard that ship are several males english daughters two to be exact, each coming from a noble background and very high to do. They are going to England for their coming out into society and all are close to their twenties in age. They sail to find husbands in England and then plan on returning with them in hand to their families in America, who choose to live there because they own several large plantations.

Unbeknowenst to them another ship sails enroute to them. A man standing in breeches and with a bandana wrapped tightly around his head sails enroute for their ship. A pirate that goes by the name Sharktooth and his men, and two of his closest friends to be exact, the others are just part of the crew and are not promised any of this booty. The plan is to attack the ship take the women and whatever goods they may have with them, then delight in the pleasures of the flesh to their fill. However the Captain has stated that they must be gentle with the women for they plan on selling them back for ransom to give gold to the crew. Also the women are only for the Captain and his two friends, who have been at sea for a long time and haven't had any good women for just as long. Those are the only rules the Captain has set. They plan to make contact with The Atlantic Swan within the next few hours and have sabers ready to attack the guardians of the women.


Hope you liked the set up..of course I'll be needing three to four female writers, along with two male writers. This at least makes sure theres a female for each male writer to branch off with once things get started.

I will be playing the part of Captain Sharktooth, and I'll leave the two males up to the two male writers who wish to join. Of course the women will have to be noble, they don't have to be uppity of course unless you wish them to be. They are all very wealthy as well, and excited to find husbands in England. Their ages range from 18-22.

Captain Sharktooth (Thomas Berrington)
Age: 25 Years Old
Sex: Male
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 208 lbs.

Description: Captain Sharktooth wears a blue bandana wrapped around his whole head that is tied at the back of his head. He has tanned skin and wears a baggy white shirt that ties off at his wrists. A thin cord wraps around his neck with shark teeth adorning it, somewhere around sixty. He has deep brown eyes and dirty blond hair that comes down to his shoulders. A thin mouth that always seems to be smirking fills his face and he stands in an arrogant pose. A wickedly curved saber is shoved under his belt at his hip and two long flintlock pistols are shoved under his belt at the small of his back. He wears baggy trousers and boots that come up to his knees and fold over.

Boatsman David

19 Years of age.
Brown eyes with brown hair. He wears a green shirt.
5'9 180 lbs. Not thin not fat. In between with a little belly. And women say he has a wonderful butt. Ready to fuck anything and everything in sight. But absolutely loves redheaded women. Redheaded women with fair skin. and they have to have pubic hair. Because he loves red pubic hair. But not TOO much.
He easily attracts women.

Julia Lamb

Twenty-one, 5'8" and 127 lbs. Miss Lamb is tall and lithe, with black hair and riveting bright blue eyes. She is eager to find a husband who is her equal physically, mentally, and sexually. Although she is strong, independent, and outspoken, Miss Lamb hopes that her husband will be unafraid to meet her and subdue her in bed. The ropes that are found everywhere on a ship give her a secret thrill.

Her father is a post-captain in the Royal Navy, and Miss Lamb is more comfortable at sea than many of the other girls. Today she is wearing a blue dress, the color of her eyes, which the sea air has shrunk tightly across her bodice. She has tied the skirts just above her ankles to walk more freely on the deck.

Marcus "Whisper" Slade

Standing 5' 3", well kempt black hair down to the tips of his shoulderblades, and always in a manner that would befit the King's finest Commodore's, Marcus Slade graduated at the top of his class at the Academy. A veteran of few battles but many political engagements, most people assume that Cmd. Slade's diminutive, yet attractive stature and quiet nature told of a man with great morals and unwavering loyalty to His Majesty's Navy.

Only Tomas Berrington, a childhood "friend" new the truth. Marcus Slade was the closest to true evil most men had ever faced without ever knowing it. Slade's mother died when he was a boy, leaving him with some well-to-do cousins that secured his commission and a place in the academy. But Berrington knew the rest of the story. He helped bury the body. From the moment the ideas of power, violence and risk were clear in little Marcus' mind, he wanted nothing more than to be a man in authority with no moral boundaries. The man was the blackest hearted thing ever to sail either the Spanish Main or the Colonial Route.

He got his nickname in several manners. The aforementioned "political engagements" offered ample opportunity for him to practice his favorite hobbies: blackmail, intimidation, and the silent kill. The "Whisper" is either the whisper in your ear, or the whisper of his knife across your throat. Both will stop your heart.

This raid wasn't his idea, but he did arrange most of the details with his connections. It cost him, but the chance to ravage a few Colonial mariageables will be well worth the sacrifice. This will be a plunder to remember.

------

Miss Julia Lamb

[ic]

The sun was bright and warm overhead, shimmering on the water. This was one of Julia's favorite things about living in the Southern colonies, rather than the North or England: she had no need to bundle herself up to keep warm. Her frock was flimsy and blue,, with several layers of light frothy petticoats below it. In England, she would have to wear heavier dresses and shifts; Julia intended to revel in her freedom while she could.

Julia leaned against the railing of the deck, her firm breasts straining in her tight bodice as she stood on tip-toe, stretching to see as far on the horizon as she could. Something white glinted-- was that--

"A glass!" she called. A passing midshipman eyed her strangely and continued walking the deck. Julia sighed; even though her father was Captain Lamb of the Royal Navy, the men never believed that any woman knew more about the sea and sailing than they did the tea-dress customs of the Anthropophagi. "I say, a glass," she said impatiently. "Or if any of you care to see for yourselves, I believe there may be a sail on the southwesterly horizon which you might like to signal, if you are so inclined."

Her guardian, an aging half-uncle by the name of Mr J.J. Carew, appeared behind her. "Really, Julia," Mr Carew said. "We have spoken on this matter. Come below immediately or you shall brown or burn most unbecomingly."

She was about to argue against being cooped inside on a brilliant day like this when the second-officer called briskly, "Sail ho! Sou'-sou'-west! All hands to quarters!" And there was no arguing with that: Julia smiled at the consternation on Mr Carew's face.

"I do believe they are signalling, sir," she said.

Thomas walked towards the mast his boots ringing out over the polished deck of his ship, he folded the spyglass back up and shoved it under his belt then called out to one of the men. "Fly the colors Davie, lets give these englishmen a fright. All men to starboard side, ready your pistols, fire at the armed men first and then we'll board and make quick work of the rest with our blades!"

He yanked free his scimitar and held it in his right hand tightly making sure the sun gleamed off it so the other ship could see their weapons, and his flintlock pistol was pulled free with his left hand and he pulled back the hammer, his lips curling into a smirk.

But when Julia turned around, Cmd. Slade was standing close enough to touch her nose to.

"My how the Royal Navy has overhauled it's regalia in record time. Is a blue dress and white petticoat the new Admiral's uniform?" He said all of this without even the hint of a smile.

She stood there, dumbfounded, until he replied, "Miss Lamb, while I respect your father, Capt. Lamb to nearly no end, the rarity of women onboard a ship is already enough risk as it is. So as much politeness as your father's position demands, give the spyglass back to your uncle and try not to look like anything but a very pretty mooring."

After completely ignoring Mr. Carew's face, he gently took the spyglass and looked for himself. There, right before him was his old friend's ship. It was time.

"Well, Ms. Lamb, it is also unwise to call out false signals while onboard a ship." He turned to face Mr. Carew. "And since you had the lack of foresight required to hand her the glass in the first place, you may have it back when we reach London."

He turned, still no expression on his face, and started for the main deck. He gave the signal to one of Sharktooth's men who had gone in uniform to facilitate this little job. He immediately turned and began spreading the word to those men not loyal to the Navy.

The Captin was on the horizon.

Lucia Manningham

Lucia’s hand shot out for the umpteenth time, a futile attempt to steady herself ‘gainst the motion of the ship. Wearily she sank onto the edge of her “bed” and sighed heavily. The journey had seemed endless, perhaps even more so due to the fact that it was a journey she did not in truth wish to make. Taking a steadying breath she lifted her head to meet her own gaze; crystal clear eyes stared back at her, eyes though framed with long fair lashes that seemed to dominate the pallor of her face.
Usually of fair complexion, she noted with some detachment that her colour had receded still more reducing her usually rosy lips to the fine hue of rose pink.
That mouth now turned upwards is self-derision.
From what she had seen of her travel companions, both girls were enjoying the voyage and excited by the thought of “coming out” into English society and of their forthcoming marriages.

For her part the idea terrified her.

True in her more …romantic … moments Lucia fancied that marriage to a man with few excesses and who would prove kind, gentle and patient might offer her the security and companionship she secretly craved.
(Though this happy prospect was somewhat marred by her fear that though dutiful, she might lack the experience to be … pleasing … enough to retain her husband’s interest and attention … )

At the age of 19, Lucia has led a somewhat … sheltered … life following tragedy early on in her otherwise privileged existence.
Though reluctant to set upon this voyage, she understands the reasons for doing so. The necessity of entering “the marriage market” and being launched into society is far removed from the life this usually solitary girl would choose if she were able to make her own choices.

Petite and slight at 5 ft 3, Lucia is a typical “English Rose”. Her blonde hair now clipped loosely upon her head is shoulder length when allowed to tumble freely. Her skin remains porcelain both in its hue and flawless texture. Though almost doll-like in stature, her figure flares generously at the hips, her curves accentuated by the slender waist. This generosity is matched by a bosom which though ample is perfectly proportioned for her fragile frame.

His legs moved with the ship's sharp turning and he tightened his grip upon his scimitar. He was now in view of everyone upon the other ship and of course they could see the Jolly Roger flying high upon his mast and the sabers glinting under the sunlight. He could already see fighting breaking out upon the other ship as the men he had put their under Slade's command were keeping them from trying to flee.

They were no fighting vessel, so it would be easy to overtake them. However they could have out ran Sharktooth's ship, luckily he had someone like Slade to prevent that, Slade would be given a portion of the treasures the ladies carried with them, and he would be given one of the ladies for their little pleasure fiasco around the atlantic.

Three large muscled men rushed up with long and wide planks ready to slap them down between the ships so they could rush across and eliminate what little resistance would be left, and then they would choose their respective women for the eighty day voyage.

They were upon them in minutes and Thomas started things off by levelling his arm at one of the enemies and releasing the hammer upon his pistol. The led ball sped out and splintered through the man's chest, a shower of red blood blossomed forth from his chest and he collapsed upon the deck. The planks were laid flat and the men rushed aboard.

Lucia exclaimed as the ship seemed to lurch.
The single sudden movement seemed out of character. Slowly she stood a hand holding securely onto the wood nearby.
Somehow the motion of the ship had changed … not quite halted and yet …
Without realising it she had stood and was straining to hear ….
She could hear voices…. shouts ...
She jumped.
A pistol shot!!!

There could not be anything serious happening? A disagreement among men?
Should she go and see what was happening?
Would her presence pacify or enflame the situation?

She stood frozen in indecision, one hand clutching the pale yellow fabric of her skirts as Lucia tried to quell the rising terror filling her.

This …disturbance …. Surely it could not mean any danger to the ship … or to herself ….?

After all of the wolves in sheeps clothing had gotten the message, all hell broke loose. None of the King's sailors knew who to attack, because all of the combatants wore uniform colors. Slade drew in the surroundings and enjoyed it as much as he could, then came the moment to speak.

"GENTLEMEN OF THE ROYAL NAVY, CEASE AND DESIST." Eventually the fighting calmed and Slade began again. "I would like to take this opportunity to tell you all it has been abysmal working with you. You are all simpletons and I hope this ship gives you all scurvy once I leave. As some of you who weren't too busy fighting may already know, there is a privateer ship flying the Jolly Roger within long nine range of us. As you know, we have no such weapons, and are tactically buggered. Which is good, because the captain is an old friend of mine."

The looks of shock were priceless.

"In approximately ten minutes they will extend a plank and board us. They will be extracting what they wish and leave, and with some luck, no one else has to die. Anyone caught attempting to hinder us will be placed in the brig once they are shot. Those of you who believe that you will be unable to resist the pull of honor and duty, report to the brig immediately, and we will consider foregoing the pistols. Any questions?"

Julia was no fool; although Slade's dressing-down had shocked her into silence, she recognized the signs of a mutiny and ducked below-decks before the fighting broke out. She found Miss Manningham climbing the ladder to the open deck and hastily pushed her back down. "Listen," Julia hissed, "stay here below-decks and don't make any noise. I believe there is to be trouble--"

A shot rang out, and despite her years spent practice-shooting with her father, Julia flinched and felt fear creeping into her chest.

"Return to your cabin," she said. "With any luck no one will think to look there. Once the fighting is through...." She trailed off; she had no idea what to expect, and no advice to give.

"Just stay in your cabin," Julia said. She dashed across the hall to her own cabin; her own pistol lay in a case in her top drawer. At the very least she would be able to protect herself.

As the sounds of the fighting suddenly ceased, Julia slid the small gun into her overskirt pocket. Someone was speaking on the upper deck, someone whose voice she recognized. Slade? She ventured to the hatch, and climbed several steps on the ladder, enough to hear what was being said without being seen.

"...within long nine range of us," Slade said above her.

Julia shrank against the ladder and reached into her pocket to feel her pistol.

Lucia Manningham

Whatever the situation Lucia knew she could remain immobile no longer.
Tentatively she opened the door of her cabin and stuck her head out to look around.
She exhaled softly relieved to find all as it should be. Her relief did not last long however as shouts, raised voices from above deck. Frightened though she was she had to find out what was happening!

Belatedly she looked around for her chaperone, a somewhat elderly scholar who was companion to her great uncle and had acted as tutor both in her earlier years and onboard the ship, a distraction she had been welcomed. She could have no idea that the elderly gentleman was already en route to the brig knowing himself to be no match for the vagabonds that had recently taken charge of the vessel. With a resigned sign she made her way to the ladder steeling herself to climb upwards. To her surprise she found herself pushed somewhat roughly back below deck.

"Listen … stay here below-decks and don't make any noise. I believe there is to be trouble--"

Miss Julia Lamb stood before her. Lucia had felt somewhat intimidated by the girl’s confidence and aura of … command … and the very fact that worry was clear in her voice made Lucia fear instantly.

"Return to your cabin. With any luck no one will think to look there. Once the fighting is through...."

Lucia shuddered and echoed.

”.. fighting? … there are men … injured..? killed…?”

She gasped and stared above deck trying not to imagine what had taken place.

"Just stay in your cabin,"

Her query was ignored and the order repeated.
For lack of anything better to do, Lucia obeyed.
Panicked she returned to her cabin and closed the door, drawing the bolt.
She stood staring around the room.
A chest of fine clothes, a box of jewels but most of her possessions were in the hold.
She would be willing to lose them, to lose everything, save the pendent she wore around her throat, a locket with pictures of her lost mother and father and of course the ring upon the middle finger of her right hand.

Yet all that paled into insignificance as she heard further voices and shots.

Having no weapons to her disposal, Miss Manningham eased onto her bed retreating to sit huddled a pillow behind her and a pillow clasped to her chest.
She prayed that no one would come, she prayed that the door would hold.
All she could do was sit and wait as silently as she could.

Finally it seemed Slade had made it even easier, and the other ships miniscule forces realized it would be foolish for them to fight back. Thomas ordered that their lines be slashed, the mast burned so cripple them from getting a warning out or trying to make trouble by chasing them. His men stood upon the opposing ship's deck with him and he stalked around it looking for any other dangers.

Satisfied that the situation was in hand he called David over and then sent his men down to the holds to get all luxuries the ship held and also to bring the three women up to line up in front of them. Thomas calmly waited, loading his flintlock pistol again just in case. Thomas nodded to Slade and shook his hand with his famous smirk. "I see that you really did have things under control, I'm sorry I ever doubted that you could pull off such a thing from the inside. This was one of the easiest boardings I've ever pulled off in my life."

Slade stared back and they resumed their dialouge awaiting for their treasure to be brought up. "So...do you two know which two you wish to take to your cabins tonight yet?" Thomas smiled looking at Davie and Slade.

Slade turned to the side to check on his compatriot's progress. They were pulling up now. Slade made some final adjustments.

"Mr. Kincaid, lower the Union Jack at once, and fetch some lamp oil. I'm sure you know what to do then." One of the happier men on deck sprang back into action.

"Mr. Emery, begin preparations to hoist the goods from the lower holds, and find men to collect those from the upper holds by foot." Slade received a nod in response.

"Oh, and Mr. Collins...." One of the men being led below stopped and faced Slade. "Two years ago, you sneezed on me." With that, slade produced a 6-gram shot hand cannon and shot Collins in the nose, destroying the front half of his face.

Julia quickly stepped off the ladder and ducked behind it as the sounds of a second crew boarding the ship came down the open hatchway. There was no way to escape, not with a beautiful blushing girl like Miss Manningham. They might be able to remain hidden on this ship and raise distress signals -- if the mutinous crew and boarding party did not claim it for a prize. No, that was too dangerous.

The only hope she had of rescue was compliance. Julia hated to give herself up without a fight, but there was no other way that offered even the slimmest hope.

A half-dozen men clambered down the ladder, and Julia pressed herself further back into the shadows. The upper deck was silent, now: the battle must be over. The victorious commander would be there. She checked herself for any jewelry or precious stones on her person, and unhooked a silver necklace from about her neck. It was her grandmother's, but no matter of that.

Julia climbed the latter to the upper deck, holding the necklace in her hand and feeling the weight of her hidden pistol against her leg. She hoped Miss Manningham would be as sensible as she.

As she clambered to her feet on the upper deck, three men struck her: Slade (of course, she should hardly be surprised), an energetic-looking boy a year or two younger than she, and a tall, powerful man who could only be the boarding captain.

Julia went immediately to him and stood before him, planting her feet and dropping a small curtsy. She took the opportunity to observe him from head to toe. He was not only tall (she was sick to death of men her own height or shorter) but built strong and muscular. Even under his sea-worn trousers and knee boots, she could see powerful movement in his legs. And his arms... Julia did not envy the man who went against this captain in battle. His saber was stuck in his belt, but it glittered sharp, and he held a flintlock competently. Despite her determination to appear unafraid, Julia shivered.

She straightened, looked the captain in the eye, and spoke. "I-- I am a passenger aboard the ship, Captain, and I wish to express the hope that I and my companion may remain unfettered and unharmed. I offer the little treasure I have," and here she held out her necklace. "My only desire is to continue to England, or if necessary return to Virginia, with as little harm to my person as possible. May I ask--" Julia stopped. The captain would accept of refuse her offer. There was no need to incense him by asking what his plans were.

Behind her, she heard a commotion and rustling, but she did not swerve her gaze from the mysterious captain.

Once Slade had shot Collins, he turned to answer Sharktooth's question. "I'll be taking Lamb. I may take pleasure in breaking her." Then, seeing Julia approach, "and speaking of which...."

Ms. Lamb staunchly positioned herself on the deck and was attempting to make a request of the Captain.

Thomas smirked and grabbed the silver necklace from the girls hand slipping it into one of his pockets. "Thank you, Miss Lamb. I'll be taking this and you and your lady friends however, you see you three were one of the main reasons we boarded."

He could see the surprise in her eyes and felt a twinge of sorrow. If Slade wanted her, her hard spirit wouldn't last long underneath him. He didn't know what kind of lover Slade was but he didn't want to find out, just as long as he didn't hurt the girl badly.

"Alright, Miss Lamb is yours Slade." Captain Sharktooth began the descent downstairs to fetch his own prize for himself. "I hope you didn't leave me with the uglier of the two Slade, for I'm going to retrieve her myself."

I hope you didn't leave me the uglier of the two the Captain had said.

"That issue is for your descision, Sharktooth. I don't believe I did."

Without waiting for a reaction from Julia, Slade gave another subtle signal, this time to the Captain, and went below decks where the last of the cargo from the lower holds was finally being cleared away. The last of the men hooking up barrels and crates to the hoist were told to leave. They did so as Slade began moving select barrels into a line forming up across the room.

These were the final preparations. Perhaps someday Commodore Marcus Slade would sail again, but once they disembarked from the Swan, and for a long time thereafter, the Commodore would be dead.

He was becoming the Whisper...completely.

Thomas ducked down under a low beam at the bottom of the stairs and looked around until he noticed the closed door. He walked up to the door slowly, making sure his boots clunked against the wooden planks quiet loudly. Then when he reached the door he rapped upon it with his knuckles and cleared his throat.

"Miss Manningham, this is Captain Sharktooth of the Bloody Siren, the opposing ship. As you may have heard we have taken over the ship and have begun to loot it. Well I regret to inform you Miss Manningham that you are a part of that loot and you will have to come with me. We will be getting to know each other quiet well over the next few weeks." He rambled on in his low voice pleasantly. He awaited an answer...none came.

He knocked upon her door again louder this time giving her a few minutes to open it.