The Pirate’s Lass

Author’s Note:  And this is being said before a single word of this is typed…this piece is a bit of a test.  Downloaded the new album by Sting “The Last Ship”.  What you read now is what my first listening of this has inspired.  There will be no editing (beyond spelling and grammar)…just the raw first thoughts.

Photo by Joanna PennThe waves lapped at the sun in the distance while, at the same time keeping a jazzy beat with their gentle rolling against the hull of the ship.  Sails above puffed out to show their cleavage as the dragged the vessel onward.

“Drake!” she called.

He turned and his long black curls splashed across his face as the wind whipped them about.  “Mandy?”

“It’s time!”

A smile crossed his lips and his boots clicked across the wooden deck.  His long brown leather cloak flapped behind him like a cape.  “And here I thought it was too early in the morning,” he whispered to the sky before heading below deck.  A few steps and his eyes began to adjust to the underneath that was only lit by lanterns.  “I figured you would be awhile, yet.”

Mandy stood, tapping the toe of her boot on the floor.  “We are ready, my lord.”  Her skirt was green and covered her black lace-up boots to mid-thigh.  Her black hair was held in a long pony-tail that slipped over her right shoulder.  Her dark green eye-shadow and black lipstick, gave her a look of the gothic that she knew Drake loved.

Drake had a thought of the sales above seeing her black boat-neck blouse that showed off her cleavage.  He pushed past a few of the chains dangling from the ceiling, and sturdied himself against one of the pillars as the boat rocked.  “Where is she?”

Her smile said she anticipated great things from this adventure, and she nodded towards the aft.  “Back room on the left, my lord.”

“Aft,” he scolded.

“Aft,” she repeated with blue eyes rolling.

Drake kept going towards the aft and entered the tiny hallway that split the two aft rooms.  His dark eyes searching the darkening area.  He turned right and opened the door.

“Your other left,” Mandy said from behind.

He wanted to turn and glare, but instead fought to keep from laughing.  Turning to the opposite door, he opened it and found more than he had fantasized of.

A single porthole allowed the light of the sun in to show just enough light.  In the room was a single bed upon which Lesley knelt.  Lesley was covered only by her free red hair that trailed down covering her pale breasts and to her legs.  Her hands were bound by chains from the ceiling.  Swaying from the ship’s lilt upon the wall behind her were a flogger and crop hung from nails.  Lesley’s eyes raised, mascara trailing down her cheeks, and locked with Drake.

He turned half to Mandy, keeping his eyes on the scene.  “It’s perfect,” he growled.  He entered the room and turned to close the door behind him.  “Twenty minutes.”

Mandy smiled and turned away.  She made her way back above deck to watch the waves in the distance and knowing land was somewhere out there.  Even in the sounds of wind and waves, she still felt envy upon hearing Lesley’s screams from below.

After sometime, her screams stopped.  The Drake’s voice rose from the depths, “It is time!”

Mandy hurried back down the steps with her heels clicking all the way.  She stopped to reach in her bag for her prop.  She then slipped from her skirt, revealing her nakedness beneath, and pulled off the blouse over her head…briefly catching it upon her hoop earrings and causing a comedy moment that only the dust saw.  Lastly, her boots were pulled off…again, causing awkward hopping and dancing.

Finally completely naked, she strapped her prop on, and was prepared.  Walking back to the room, she opened the door and peered in.

Lesley was riding Drake…exactly as choreographed.  Her ass and back were red with the streaks of his punishment upon her, but the smile on her face suggested just how much she was enjoying.

Mandy, as instructed, entered and closed the door quietly.  She padded over to the bed and knelt behind Lesley.

Lesley sensed her, without hearing, and leaned forward to expose her ass.

Mandy slowly began to slip her strap on into that exposed ass.

Two hours later…

Drake stood on the deck and stared out at the Port of Miami.  His arm was around Mandy and they waved as Lesley, now in jeans and a scoop-neck t-shirt clicked her heels down the gangplank.

She then skipped with her overnight bag swaying against her legs to the waiting Ferrari that had the engine being impatiently revved by the guy she had claimed was her boyfriend.

“How can she live like that?” Mandy asked with a shake of her head.

“At least he let her have this.”  Drake smiled at his wife.

“True, but this is just an escape.”


She grinned and mocked surprise at him with a swat of his shoulder.

A power boat, driven by a Sonny Crockett-wannabe skipped across the waves across the bow of the ship.

“And to think, mom thought I should get a banking job.”

Lesley waved with a beaming smile as the boyfriend-brute put her case in the car.

Mandy waved back.  “I’m glad you didn’t listen to your mom.”

“Aye, matey, I’m me own man…and I yam what I yam.”

Mandy pulled her mobile from her pocket and checked the calendar.  “Speaking of yams, we have to be in Norfolk for Mr. and Mrs. Phelps by Tuesday.”

Drake turned and eyeballed the sails.  “Faster we get out of here the better.  Miami was the city built on silicone.”  He eyed the palm tree tops to see if he could get a sense of breeze.  “We have time to go under wind and…wait…what do yams have to do with Norfolk?”

“No idea.  Just sounded like a good segway.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

CommentLuv badge

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.