Porn Star Chronicles - Swashbuckler
Porn Star Chronicles
©2013 CarLOS Penguin
Swashbuckler
Preface
A new series is born!
When I created the Naughty Paws story, "The Porn Star", the favourable responses and versatility of the cast led me to begin a new series.
Like the Naughty Paws, each chronicle will stand on its own and not require a previous story for readers to understand what is going on, though characters from other stories may make an appearance now and again. Unlike the Naughty Paws, it will always contain the three major stars - Pegasiian brother and sister Gere and Solara Golais and a Terran of Canisian heritage, Chelsea.
Check my journal here, https://www.sofurry.com/view/429362 , for information on what a Pegasiian or Canisian is.
In this series, the three work as a porn star team for the renowned sexual entertainment magnate, director and producer John Spear. This is an account of their work life.
Gere has been dating Chelsea ever since they hit it off in the waiting room for auditions for porn actors. Gere is a straight-shooter type of guy and somewhat vanilla. It's his sister, Solara, that's the pervert in the family. Auditioning for porn was her idea.
Chelsea is very open minded, yet has experienced little. She's bisexual as is Solara. Solara and Chelsea have been having an affair until Gere and Chelsea fell in love and Solara let the cat out of the bag about the affair (See A Porn Star Vacation if you wish the details. _ Not _ required reading).
1 - Escape From Paradise
The night was warm, as were all the nights in the Caribbean port of call that privateers and pirates called their 'hidden home'.
It was the late 18th century, the American Revolution was winding down and while the authorities were clearing out Nassau of the 'scum', Freeport became a low key haven for the buccaneers who kept a lower profile and had gold on their mind, rather than cannonballs.
Trade with the Spaniards, British, French, Americans and Dutch was conducted in the open as well as the dark back rooms of public houses.
Storm season was ending and the boisterous crowd at the Rusty Sword pub were celebrating that they would be back at sea the following week. Fishermen to navy men were all toasting grog and the prostitutes were booked for the weekend, as was every room at the inns in town.
At one table in a corner of the pub, sat two cloaked strangers who were staring at their empty mugs and awaiting an opportunity for business.
"Service here is shit." Growled one of the strangers. His hood covered most of his face, except his scruffy bearded goat-like muzzle and moustache.
"You need patience, they are busy tonight." A gentle voice came from the other hooded stranger, also covered except for her small vixen shout and perfectly manicured whiskers. "Besides, you're the one always insisting we come here for these wenches that lack any moral fibre."
Her companion just smiled.
Meandering through the crowd approaching their table was a short, chubby bar wench so buxom, her bouncing breasts looked as they were ready to pop out of her dress. Unlike the other wenches serving in the pub who were human or canid, she was as a wide-eyed, innocent looking sheep girl with hair immaculate of long curls and her dress neat and tidy.
She deposited two fresh mugs of ale on the table and to the surprise of the strangers, took a seat with them.
"Well, aren't you new here?." The male said with a smile and placed a couple of coins in her cleavage for the drinks.
She looked at the coins being held by her breasts and smiled at the strangers, "I may be your business, My Lord." She said with an upper-class, British accent.
"Oooo, My Lord!" The vixen chided. "Do we have a serving wench who is so formal, yet seats herself uninvited?"
Looking evenly at the female stranger, the wench replied, "If My Lady would be so kind to hear my story, I wish to hire you for transport to America."
The strangers looked at each other and the male asked the wench, "So, why not take a passenger ship?"
"Because My Lord, I am a hunted woman." The wench replied.
The strangers whispered amongst themselves for a moment as they noticed two red coat British soldiers entering the pub.
"I have a feeling the night is about to get interesting." The male said as he nodded toward the soldiers, getting his companion's attention in their direction.
They were being led by a tall human who was looking around the pub as if for someone.
The wench gasped, "Byron, you traitor!"
Just then, Byron's eyes met the wenches and he pointed her out to the soldiers, "THERE!"
One of the soldiers handed Byron a coin purse and pressed their way through the crowd, which was dispersing to get out of their way. The expression on their face was one of business and with muskets in hand, they approached the table of the wench and strangers.
One soldier leveled his musket with bayonet a few centimetres from the wenches chin while the other soldier announced, "Miss Browning, you are under arrest for treason to the Crown by order of His Majesty, King George III."
The wench looked desperate at the strangers. Her mouth twisted in fear, her wide pleading eyes.... the expression of a woman facing certain death.
The room had gone quiet, except for one patron becoming unruly and pulling free of his friend that was obviously pleading with him to sit back down. "Je m'en fou! I am French and will die like one!"
He staggered over towards the soldiers as they turned their heads towards the drunk. The Frenchman pulled out a flintlock and shouted, "Merde rouge!" and shot the soldier that announced Miss Browning was under arrest. The soldier that had his musket aimed at the wench in turn, shot the Frenchman.
"Now captain?" The male stranger said casually to the vixen who equally as casually, replied, "Now."
Both strangers stood up and cast off their cloaks, revealing that they were well armed buccaneers. The male drew his sword and as the redcoat turned, came face to face with its point.
"I'll take the musket, if you don't mind?" The goat-like male said seriously but casually.
Realizing he was facing two pirates and at a great disadvantage, he handed the musket over and was promptly rammed by the butt of the stock in his midsection as the male pirate said, "Back door, NOW!"
The three ran out the rear exit of the pub, across the alley and into the livery stable mucking door. A couple of horses gave a nicker at being startled as the three squatted behind a pile of straw. He readied his confiscated musket at the door and the captain drew her flintlock. Miss Browning cowered behind the two, her heart racing.
The pub was swarming with redcoats now. To make matters worse, a few Spanish and French soldiers also arrived at hearing the shots. Voices became shouts and more shooting broke out. Pub patrons and workers fled out all the exits.
"Let's move!" The captain said and under the cover of the fleeing patrons and workers, they made it out of the area and headed toward the docks at a slower, less conspicuous pace.
"So Miss Browning, might you be so kind to tell us why you almost got us all killed back there?" The male pirate asked.
"As I said My Lord, I am a wanted woman." She replied.
He drew a dagger and held it at her throat, stopping her cold with a gasp. "So, there must be quite a bounty on you. I saw that soldier pay that man handsomely for information on where you were."
The captain placed her hand on his to stop him from doing anything rash. "C'mon Grit, she might be worth more to us than we know. Let's just get back to the ship and get out of here before those soldiers stop shooting each other and start looking for us."
"Aye, captain." Grit said and replaced his dagger. The three continued walking.
"I'm captain Fairpaw and this is my quartermaster, Grit." The vixen said. "What's your story, wench?"
"I'm not actually a wench." Miss Browning replied. "I am the daughter of a Count in Essex. My mother is an American and my family helped fund the revolution. My family was arrested and executed for treason to the Crown and I escaped with the help of our servant, Byron."
"Who appears to have sold you out once the bounty was large enough, it seems?" Grit said.
"Which was why I am travelling to America. I figure since my family helped them, I might be safe there."
"And why you sought transport with those who don't keep passenger manifests." Captain Fairpaw added with a nod.
They arrived at the docks and boarded their ship. There was no soldiers there yet, but soon would be to search every vessel leaving the island.
"You wake up the crew quietly and ready sail." The captain said to Grit, who nodded and carried out her orders.
"And you , Miss trouble maker, come with me." The captain added to Miss Browning and led her to her quarters.
Her quarters were small. An 18th century sloop even at eighty tonnes was still a small ship. Not a heavily armed vessel like other pirates, but fast and did the job of smuggling rather than plundering sea going vessels other pirates were infamous for.
There was a hammock, a dresser, a table with maps, a few chairs and a large wash tub. "Grit sleeps with the men and there's only one private room - this one." The captain said. "You can sleep in here or with the men."
Miss Browning looked shocked, "I am a refined lady!"
The captain rolled her eyes, "Well la, dee, da!" She tossed Miss browning a blanket and a pillow that had seen better days, pointed to a corner, "I take it you'll be sleeping in here then." She headed for the door, "Stay here and keep quiet wile I command the cast-off, or you will be joining the men.... and without that pretty dress."
2 - Painting Winter Blues a Caribbean Blue
*three weeks earlier*
The January wind blew the rain hard as it pelted the window in Chelsea's apartment with a loud pattering. Despite the warmth inside, the humidity made it feel colder than it was and with each gust of wind, Gere shivered.
His sister, Solara, was wearing a wool sweater and stockings. Despite being bundled up in a thick housecoat over top her sweater, she couldn't shake the chill. "Can we turn the heat up again?" She asked as she cuddled in a ball on the other end of the couch.
"Yeah, I'm for that." Gere added as he again tugged at his stylish angora cardigan, wishing he owned a sweater like his sisters.
Chelsea who was sitting between them, sighed, "ECS, increase living room temperature another two degrees." The Environment Control System beeped twice to acknowledge the command. She was wearing only shorts and a light blouse that was opened all the way. "You two are determined to make me melt." She griped, noticing it was 22C. in the apartment already before her order to increase it.
Chelsea was a Canisian vixen, whose species was best suited for a cold and harsh world of dramatic climates. Though she was born on earth, she was raised in the Yukon. Despite the warming climate, the few months of strong wind and 'blast freezer' temperatures as her boyfriend Gere called northern winters, it was enough for her to find any temperature above about 17C. to be uncomfortable.
Gere and Solara on the other hand were born and raised on Pegasi, a world with a sub-tropical climate where an 'abnormally cold' winter was rarely below 15C. That is why their family settled on the west coast of United North America; snow was a rarity.
"I swear you two are doing this just to watch me peel off clothes and walk around the apartment, naked." Chelsea said with annoyance.
Gere and Solara looked at each other and smiled, "We didn't think of that, but it's a great plan now you mention it." Gere said as the two siblings chuckled.
Chelsea slapped her forehead and shook her head, "The two of you are incorrigible!"
"Okay, okay, let's stick to the job at hand, before you melt like a snowman in a greenhouse." Solara said and picked up her data pad. "This is one of the more unique scripts we've had. I mean, we get to be on a yacht!"
"Not a yacht, a sloop it reads." Chelsea corrected in a true coastal resident fashion as a gust of wind sent more rain pattering hard against the window behind where they sat. "Though the thought of being on one at this time of year is less than pleasing, even for me."
Gere looked out the window and then to his sister with a mortified expression, "On the water, out there? Now? I thought this was going to be shot in studio?"
"Nuh-uh." Solara shook her head. "John said he wanted realism the old fashioned way."
John Spear ran a production company for pornography as well as sexual documentaries. He was flamboyant, handsome, generous and rich. But his down to earth personality and belief in letting his actors make scenes there own, made him one of the most popular men to work for in all the worlds where porn was produced.
"Please tell me it'll be shot in the spring at least." Gere complained.
Solara laughed, "Rough and tough pirate quartermaster by the name of Grit... ha!" She, shook her head. "In three weeks and a week shooting in some place called Bahama."
"The Bahamas?" Chelsea asked, raising her head.
"That's the place!" Solara replied with a smile.
Chelsea gave a whimper and placed her head in her arms as Gere now curious, looked up the location of the Bahamas on his tablet.
"Hey, it's closer to the equatorial region!" He exclaimed as Solara looked over and he tilted the tablet toward her. "And their high today was 26C!" He put down his tablet and gave a beaming smile, "I am so in to this script, now!"
Gere lay in bed that night, reading up on the Bahamas and the Caribbean Union. Chelsea slept soundly beside him, snoring gently. The more he read about the island, the more it reminded him of home. He looked forward to the trip with almost child-like excitement.
"Welcome to the Caribbean Union!" The uniformed customs agent smiled and greeted them as he verified their identity on his computer. "Mr. Spear I see has handled all your paperwork for your employment. Enjoy our islands."
The flight centre was an open air building with no windows. A gentle, warm and humid breeze flowed through the building unimpeded. Only the retractable hurricane shields above each opening gave hint that such calm beauty came at a price a few times each year.
Donning sunglasses and the girls in their wide brimmed hats and flowing dresses with Gere in his flip-flops, baggy shorts and Bermuda shirt, they looked like stereotypical tourists as they left the building.
They heard a loud whistle and someone shouting in the local accent, "Hey! You of the furry faces! Over here, mon!"
It was a taxi driver that was waving at them and making what they considered a 'scene' of himself. "Yoooooo, mon! Dis taxi!" He shouted in his Caribbean accent.
They passed several other taxi's approached the one with the loud driver. Gere stepped forward out of the group, "I read that you transport drivers are competitive for tourist currency, but is this display not unbecoming?"
The taxi driver chuckled with a big grin. He was dark like the other locals and wore sunglasses as well. His teeth pearly white and had a gold chain about his neck and was far better dressed than the others. "Well mon, you can take dis taxi..." He pointed to the roof of his vehicle, "Or you can take dose taxi's...." He pointed to the others in line, "But dis taxi is the only one Mr. Spear is paying for."
Gere returned the driver's smile, "Saving a dollar is my kind of song!" He motioned to the girls, "C'mon ladies!" and helped the driver load the baggage into the trunk of the car after opening the rear doors for the girls.
"My name is Jimmy!" The driver introduced himself as they sped out of the passenger pickup area at an uncomfortable speed. "I do dis and dat for Mr. Spear."
"So why do you drive a taxi, Jimmy?" Solara asked instinctively holding on to her hat as they merged into the main street with centimetres to spare front and rear of other vehicles.
"Because pretty lady, it is my job!" He replied cheerfully. "I just do dis and dat when Mr. Spear calls, as a sideline." Jimmy looked into the back seat, taking his eyes uncomfortably off the road for his passengers.
They pulled up to the motel. It certainly wasn't the resort that they had experienced on their previous vacation together that John had paid for, but as Gere said, "A shack in paradise is still in paradise."
Chelsea said a silent prayer for air conditioning.
The motel was two levels, white with light blue trim. The paint was peeling in some places, but it didn't look dumpy - it just had 'character'. The parking lot was gravel with the sound of waves in the background. Palm trees swayed gently in the breeze.
Gere was helping Jimmy unload the bags when they heard the familiar voice of their boss, "Jimmy!" He said with a big smile as he exited the motel in his trademark polo shirt, jeans, canvas sneakers and sunglasses.
"Mr. Spear!" Jimmy said as they hugged. "Brought the guests in one piece, as requested, boss."
"That's a good thing." John nodded. Looking at the trio, "I see your nerves survived the trip here."
"Yup!" Said Gere nonchalantly, picking up bags.
"Barely!" Solara complained as she held her chest.
Chelsea looked at Gere, then Solara. Raising her eyebrows at John, she bounced, "I have to pee."
The guys laughed as Jimmy added, "At least she didn't in my taxi." John pointed to the motel café as the most readily available washroom as Chelsea 'jogged' in.
"Jimmy, good to see you again. Go grab yourself lunch and I'll join you shortly in the café." John said to Jimmy, taking the bags he had slung over his shoulder. Turning to Gere, "I have a treat for Chelsea."
"Oh? What's that?" Gere asked curious as they climbed the stairs to the second level.
"Notice how there's no windows, just a security grille on the motel windows except for glass in the office and one room here upstairs?" John asked as Gere looked around, noticing.
"Yeah, what's up with that?" He stopped at the top of the stairs and asked curiously.
"Well, the office is for privacy, of course. But the one room with windows I had industrial air conditioning installed I pre-set it this morning for a temperature of 14C for Chelsea, so she has a respite when she gets too warm."
Gere was impressed. "That's incredibly kind of you! Chelsea will be happy to hear this." He paused, "So, you own this motel and we're assigned our own rooms?"
John nodded, "I bought it last year just before the hurricane season ended. The owners couldn't afford to fix her up from the seasonal damage. So I got it for when we did shoots down here or I was sick of winter." He smiled and winked at Gere, who laughed.
"I gave you all the largest room, on the corner..." John nodded toward the corner of the motel and picking up the bags again, walked toward the door, "As well as the air conditioned one. You're all free to hop between the two."
Leaving the café, Chelsea pondered the romantic beauty of the island, despite the heat. She walked up the stairs to the open air room she assumed Gere and Solara would be in as directed by Jimmy. She found a note attached to the door, flapping in the gentle breeze.
Walking along the beach
She took the note, padded back down the stars and headed for the beach area.
Solara and Gere were sitting on a log at the beach tide line, looking at the shells and other flotsam that were caught among the logs.
"This looks like a Pegasiian Ch'ora." Gere said as he studied a keyhole sand dollar test.
"Oh, neat!" Solara said as she looked over his shoulder. She had found shells, but they were unremarkable compared to this one.
Gere handed it to her for examination. After a few moments of Solara's fascination with it, Gere teased her, "Oh, they're also deadly to our species."
Solara gave a shriek and dropped it as Gere laughed. Realizing she'd 'been had', she took off after her brother with oaths of inflicting pain on him.
The siblings ran right past Chelsea, who giggled at the scene; her mischievous boyfriend running, cackling and his sister in hot pursuit swearing at him.
"I'm so looking forward to being our captain's pet." Solara sighed back in the room, leaning over the table with her chin on her arm in their open air room as she fiddled with a data pad.
Gere leaned back in a chair, his hands behind his head with his eyes closed. The sound and smell of the surf filled his senses. The brightly coloured curtains over the windows blew in the warm breeze behind him.
Without opening his eyes, he replied, "You play each other's pet every other night. I wonder whose girlfriend she is, sometimes."
Solara tossed the data pad down and sat up, "Yeah, but this is different."
He opened his eyes and leaned forward so the chair was back on all four legs and smiled, "Because there are just so many people are watching."
Solara smiled wryly, "And that's SO erotic. Murrrr..."
Gere chuckled, "You are such a little perv." Waving a hand dismissively and returning to leaning the chair back, he added, "Anyway, John said we could improvise the script if we want."
Chelsea had a long, cool shower and paced in the comfortably air conditioned room nude and still damp, thinking of any last minute improvisations. "We could have all three of us in the captain's tub, but...." She ruled out that idea, which would have Gere and Solara in something of an incestuous situation. Though she wouldn't put it past Solara to....
*knock knock*
Chelsea gave a small gasp and reached for a towel to cover herself before asking who it was. But before she could, the door swung open.
"Chelsea, hun, are we going for dinner yet? I'm starving." Solara asked.
Gere came in behind her, "Yeah, we need to keep up our... EEEEEEE!" Gere shrieked and eyes went wide as he bore a horrified expression at the temperature in the room. He mockingly 'froze solid' and as stiff as he could make himself, flopped over on the bed, landing on his back.
Chelsea motioned for Solara to close the door. As she did, she looked at her brother and to Chelsea, "Can we leave him here like this? We'll thaw him out when we get home."
Chelsea smiled, "I bet I can thaw him out."
She layed down on the bed beside him and lifting the elasticized waist on his shorts, she shoved her muzzle in and nipped with her lips at his sheath until she felt the tip of his penis extend and poke her nose.
Withdrawing her face, Chelsea looked at Solara with a smile, "On second thought, let's leave him, go down and get dinner and I'll do this after."
"Cock tease!" Gere came to life again and rolled over on Chelsea who gave a startled squeal.
Gere straddled the giggling vixen, holding her arms by the wrists up beside her head, against the bed.
He kissed her and snapped upright, "Holy crap! You're wet! Cold and wet!" He gave an involuntary shudder and released her wrists.
Chelsea propped herself up on her elbows, her boyfriend still straddling her. "I just had a shower and it's comfy in here. What's this cold you speak of?" She said innocently.
Erection and drive gone, Gere got up, "We'll wait for you down stairs.... in temperatures for NORMAL people." He stuck his tongue out at her as they left, Solara giggling.
The next morning, the trio were awoken to a cheerful voice calling in through the window, "Rise and shine! Time for breakfast and then a ride to the docks."
Gere's eyes popped open first. His head was on the table in his arms where he had fallen asleep hunched over in the chair with data pads in front of him. He straightened slowly as sharp pains stung his back, "Ugh! I'm not looking forward to getting older." He stretched and yawned.
Chelsea was next to stir from a similar sleeping position, smacking her tongue as she became conscious.
*SNXXXXXX!*
Solara lay on her stomach on the bed, face buried under the pillow and didn't hear Jimmy's greeting.
Gere smiled, cracked his knuckles and gave her a good swat on her ample rear.
"Ahhhh, GERE!" Solara shouted angrily
Chelsea chuckled, "You should be used to that alarm clock by now."
Solara massaged her butt, still looking half asleep. "Why did you wake me?"
"Because we have to eat, then toss it all back up in Jimmy's taxi on the way to the docks." Gere replied.
Fed and showered, they hung on to the 'chicken bar' in the vintage taxi. Jimmy whistled and said, "She is a BEAU-TY! I swung by there on the way and the sloop is history on the water." He leaned over the seat, looking back at them as he had a habit of doing while driving, "You are really lucky to be working on it. They charge tourists more than I can afford for four hours and you have her for twenty-four for the shoot."
Chelsea whispered to Solara, "You brought your sea-sick pills, right?"
Solara nodded wordlessly, wishing she had taken some for the drive there.
The last time Solara had been aboard a boat, she proceeded to get sick all over one of the crew. Taking an emergency injection of basic motion sickness drug, she fell fast asleep - a common side effect. This time, a physician prescribed her the proper medication that had no sedative side effect.
They arrived at the dock and in one piece as they mentioned to themselves as Jimmy chuckled.
They saw a tall mast towering above the main boat house with the sails furled and a long bowsprit. As they went through the house, they were amazed at the beauty of the replica of a centuries old design.
The three just stood there in admiration.
"What did I tell ya, mon?" Jimmy said reverently.
"That's a piece of art." Solara said as she walked towards it.
"Adventure II" Gere said, pointing to the name on the bow. "Such a humble name for a boat like this." Not knowing the historical significance.
"That name sounds familiar." Chelsea murmured to herself. "And it looks more like a schooner than a sloop..." She pondered as Jimmy interrupted her thoughts.
"Hundreds of years ago, merchants, pirates and even the navy used these." Jimmy said as they all went aboard. "Other than the ship, the Historical Society was more than happy to provide the props and extras. It'll boost tourism and of course, the need for taxi's!"
And this is where our story began.....
3 - Erotic Waves
The burning heat of the midday sun beat down upon the little ship that was sailing for Charleston, the closest American controlled shore, at least for now. The humidity was stifling and most of the crew rested and kept hydrated in a low shade tent.
The Caribbean helmsman wore a broad hat and didn't seem to be bothered by the heat or humidity. He smiled at the pacing Miss Browning, "Pretty lady, what troubles you?"
"Gold, Mr. crewman." She replied. She knew she had to pay for her journey and she had but a few coins. The captain however said the price of her passage would require more. She could only hope her family name and efforts would resonate with authorities in her new home of refuge and they grant her some cash.
He laughed, "You sound like one of us. Gold is always on our minds!"
Her muscles tightened at the indignity of being compared to such common folk, sailors, especially pirates. She leaned against the rail and looked out over the turquoise waters, despondent.
"It's bloody hot today!" The captain complained to her quartermaster in her quarters as she looked over the map, calculating their heading to the American mainland.
The captain wore light clothes that day, rather than dressing as a piratess in full gear, she was barefoot with a light skirt and shirt opened and tied about her bosom. Her long hair was down and not tied and under her hat.
Grit moved over to her and took her hair in his hands, running his fingers through it. "You're ruining crew morale dressed like this, captain." Moving her hair aside, he kissed her neck and licked the sweat-matted fur of her cheek. He wrapped his arm around her slender middle and whispered into her ear, "Shall I draw the captain a nice, cool bath?"
Captain Fairpaw's eyes were closed, tilting her head to give Grit more access to her neck. Placing her hand on his arm around her and caressing it, she whispered, "Mmmm, that would be nice."
Her eyes opened and a grin crosser her face, "Get that passenger of ours down here."
Grit smiled, having an idea of how the captain thinks, "Yes captain!"
"You wanted to see me, captain?" Miss Browning asked curiously as she was led in by Grit a few minutes later.
"Yes, I did." The captain said with a smile. "I have an idea that would be of mutual benefit. Since you lack proper funds and the likelihood of disappearing when we arrive in South Carolina rather then you begging the local governor for welfare, I have decided that you will work your way to America on this ship."
"Fair enough!" Miss Browning replied. "Grit says we will arrive in another twenty hours and I am willing to work every hour."
The captain walked over to the large wash tub, "That's good to hear, my dear. You can begin by helping Grit draw my bath."
Twenty minutes later, they had hauled enough buckets to fill the wash tub three quarters full. Grit barely broke a sweat, used to the hard physical labour aboard a vessel. Miss Browning however was used to the 'soft life' of nobility and was quite disheveled, sweating and panting.
"Your.... your bath My Lady captain." She said, panting and wiping her brow of sweat.
The captain ran her hand through the cool water drawn from below. Not being a ship of long journey's or carrying animals, the crew was used to a more liberal use of potable water.
The captain removed her top, exposing her relatively small, but well shaped breasts and un-clipping her skirt and letting it fall to the floor, she stepped in the water and melted into the coolness with a sigh.
Miss Browning let out a surprised gasp, "Does My Lady often undress in front of her quartermaster?"
Grit let out a chuckle, as did the captain. "My quartermaster and I have no secrets from each other, do we?"
Grit handed the captain a cloth, leaned over and they kissed, "No captain, we don't."
She wetted the cloth and wrung it out over her head, "I assume our refined Miss Browning hasn't been exposed to others, or maybe she too snooty for that?" Captain Fairpaw asked Grit, but with eyes on their passenger.
He knelt beside the tub, his head over the captain's shoulder, "I think she's too snooty for that."
Miss Browning ruffled and lifted her chin, "I had a maid attend me. I have been exposed to others before."
"Well, Miss Browning..." The captain said as she lifted her foot paw and tossed the cloth over it, "Then you know what to do!"
Miss Browning looked indignant, even insulted. But she was a woman of her word and she did agree to work in whatever capacity. She stepped forward to the tub, knelt down and gently washed the captain's foot paw, then the other.
Miss Browning was not unkind. Her washing was gentle and thorough. The captain leaned forward and asked in a voice of request, rather than an order as she did with her feet, "Be a dear and wash my back?"
Miss Browning nodded politely and moved behind the captain and began washing her back as gently as her feet.
"Mmmm, that soft aristocratic lifestyle gave you soft hands, dear." The captain said as she reached behind and took Miss Browning's hands in hers and pulled them forward, cupping them over her breasts.
"Captain! My Lady!" She gasped, but as the captain noticed, didn't attempt to pull away.
"Is the water not cool and refreshing?" Captain Fairpaw asked sweetly.
"Well, yes..." She agreed.
The captain rubbed Miss Browning's hands on herself in a massaging motion over each breast and intertwined her fingers with hers. Leaning her head back against her plump breasts, making Miss Browning gasp at the touch of the captain's wet hair, she asked, "And aren't you hot and your body in need of refreshing coolness?"
Barely above a whisper, Miss Browning agreed, "Yes."
Smiling, the captain offered, "Then you should join me." She released her hands.
Miss Browning slowly stood and eyes widened as she felt Grit unlacing her dress from behind. She slid her arms out of her wench dress and as the top fell, exposing her, she crossed her arms modestly to cover herself.
"Must your quartermaster be here, My Lady captain?" She said shyly.
"We're all friends here." The captain replied.
"Very well." Miss Browning replied with resignation in her voice. Grit then removed her dress from about her legs as she stepped out of it, then in the tub across from the captain.
The water felt very good indeed. She dipped her head and sat up and wrung her hair out. Her large breasts floated naturally in the water, the coolness making her nipples very erect and on seeing the captain admiring them, asked shyly, "My Lady, may I have a cloth?"
The captain handed her the cloth. Miss Browning washed her face and arms and began on her chest as the captain leaned forward and took the cloth and began washing her.
"My Lady shouldn't be bathing her servant?" Miss Browning only half-objected.
"Pleasures aren't about classes and titles, my dear." The captain replied softly. Leaning back on the tub, she offered, "Let's have your back, now."
Miss Browning turned around and sat between the captain's legs. Her back wash turned into a hand massage, totally relaxing their passenger to the captain's will.
"Slide back against me, sweetie." The captain said as Miss Browning slid back and leaned against the captain.
She felt her arms slide under hers and hands run along the underside of her floating breasts, gently fondling them.
"This... this is not... proper!" Miss Browning said in objection, with nothing behind the words. Her head leaned back and to the side, hers and the captain's muzzles rubbed together on the sides before their lips met and after a pause, kissed.
The captain's tongue ran along Miss Browning's lips and sought to enter her mouth, but she turned aside, "I... I should not be enjoying this as I do."
The captain kissed her sheep-like neck a few times, "Every sail takes wind for a first time." She gently nipped at her long, floppy ear, "Every ship's hull slides into the water for a first time." She gently squeezed her breasts, "A good captain will love her ship gently."
Miss Browning relaxed. One of captain Fairpaw's hands went lower, gently, reassuringly caressing Miss Browning's round belly, down her navel and lower. Miss Browning lifted her hips slightly, the captain's hand reached down and gently cupped her soft, plump pussy.
She gave a slight gasp, "My Lady, I have never been touched like so before."
The captain slipped a finger between the maiden's lips, causing her to gasp, quiver and moan as she climaxed for the first time to a stranger's hand.
Heaving a satisfied sigh, Miss Browning slowly sank back down against the captain and nuzzled her. The captain kissed her tenderly as Miss Browning wrapped her arms over the captain's arms that now held her gently.
"We have another to satisfy this afternoon, Miss Browning." The captain said as she looked up and smiled at her quartermaster.
He stood and removed his pants, revealing his erection. His reddish-pink penis shaped like a long, pointed carrot, bounced up and down gently with his pulse.
Miss Browning revealed surprise at the sight and covered her mouth with her fingers. "Oh, My Lord!"
The captain giggled and reached over with her wet hand and stroked his large, low hanging testicles, wetting them and making the smooth, almost furless skin of his scrotum wrinkle slightly at the touch. "Yes, My Lord. You must be hot too."
"Only in the presence of My Lady captain." He replied with a smirk and stroked the captain's ears and hair.
She stroked up his balls with the back of her hand and took the base of his penis with her thumb and forefinger around the short, furred sheath. He gave a low moan and a drop of thick, clear pre-cum exited his tip and began to drip.
The captain leaned her head forward and extended her long, canid tongue out, catching the drip on the tip of her tongue. She ran her fingers slowly down his shaft to the tip, squeezing a large drop that stretched into a strand that dripped onto her tongue.
Rolling her tongue back into her mouth, she smiled, "Mmmm. A man gives us many flavours, Miss Browning." She smacked her lips, "He gives us salty..."
The captain moved her hand and lifted his balls and ran her tongue slowly up them to his penis, then slowly along the underside with her tongue at full length. "He gives us a spice..."
She once again held him by his sheath with her fingers, but his time thrust her mouth over his full length and slowly withdrew it with a slurp. She reached her other hand around and groped his ass as she thrust her mouth over his penis again. Sucking and bobbing her head up and down on it as Grit gently thrust his hips in unison.
His breathing quickened and soon he gave a moan that he was soon to cum. The captain opened her mouth with his penis half out of it and licked at it vigorously with her tongue and began stroking him.
Miss Browning watched curiously, closely, amazed at what she was witnessing. The quartermaster's body stiffened as he let out a loud moan and a stream of white fluid shot out of his penis with such intensity, it struck the captains mouth audibly and a small amount spattered out.
The captain swallowed as she kept her mouth open, making a gulping sound as Grit continued to release his semen, striking the captains tongue and running down her face as she continued to swallow the viscous liquid.
The streams became short spurts, then a few last jelly-like dribbles before the red member throbbed and pulsed, empty and satisfied. The captain held still on his shaft as he began to shrink and become soft, retracting into the furry sheath that dangled above his admirable sack. She looked up at her quartermaster with soft eyes as he smiled down on her, stroking her ears and cheek lovingly, telling Miss Browning that these two shared a special relationship inside the privacy of her cabin.
Without taking her eyes off his, she gave his penis one last lick and a suckle, taking his entire sheath in her mouth like a treat, savouring the last bit of his juices. She gave a sigh and leaned back into the tub, her long tongue licking her muzzle that was spattered with his release.
Her face filled with many expressions; amazement, shock, shyness and desire, Miss Browning said with a breathy stutter, "M... My Lady, such aromatic seed he has released. What flavour is it?"
Licking her face, the captain replied, "And the ultimate flavour a man can give us...." She looked at the maiden and smiled, "You will learn one day for yourself."
A moment later, the still bottomless Grit obtained and held open a large towel by the tub. The captain looked up at him, "I guess I do have a ship to run." She said with a reluctant sigh.
Getting out of the tub, Grit wrapped the towel around her from behind and pulled her against him. He nuzzled and kissed her ears, making her giggle. "The captain needs satisfying too, before returning to duty." He said as he kissed her cheek and chin as she tilted her head with a pampered expression.
"Indeed I do!" She said, then looked at Miss Browning, who was standing in the tub, her soaked fur dripping from her rounded body. "Maybe our passenger needs to discover more?"
Miss Browning stepped out of the tub, Grit only tossing her a towel. She wrapped it around herself and looked at Grit and turned her head shyly, "Perhaps the captain has already taught me enough for today? I sought to give myself only to a husband."
The captain laughed, "Oh, fear not young maiden. If I wanted you to be torn of your virginity, I would have handed you to the men."
The captain motioned for Miss Browning to sit on one of the chairs, which she did after laying her towel on it to not ruin the finely crafted wood with her damp fur.
The captain knelt before her and with her towel, began drying Miss Browning's feet and up her spreading legs to her thighs. The captain looked at her with a wry grin and keeping eye contact with her, lowered her head and began licking the inside of her thighs.
The sensation of the vixen's warm, soft tongue on her skin was far too pleasurable to continue protesting. Against her inner conflict of moral alarm bells, Miss Browning slid forward in her chair, raising her other leg over the captain's shoulder to give her better access.
She gave a twitch and a giggle as the captain's whiskers brushed her pussy lips and kissed her gently, as she did Grit's testicles. She felt an alternating hot and cool of the captain's breath as she saw the vixen's nose twitch, sniffing her. She went to close her thighs in modesty at what she considered such an 'bestial' activity, but before she could, she felt the captain's long, warm canid tongue plunge inside her.
Her body exploded in orgasm. Her hips convulsing uncontrollably, crotch grinding on the captain's muzzle, her head thrust back in a scream of pleasure she dared not even dream of before.
"Oh, gods, s... sto-o-op!" She pleaded as the captain slowly withdrew her tongue. She panted and whimpered as she lay spent in the chair. Her face bore an expression of pain as much as pleasure, her eyes squinted closed. Opening them, she looked in the captain's eyes, "That... that was so beautiful, but so... so much at one time." She panted.
The captain leaned over and kissed her, "Now, can you do that small favour for me in return?"
Miss Browning nodded without hesitation, "Yes, captain."
Having switched places and Miss Browning having recovered from her overload of sensation, she came to realize her situation. The captain had her legs over her shoulders and she was a muzzle breadth from another woman's pussy. She was convinced she was going to hell for this, but she as a noble woman, was one of her word. She closed her eyes and brought her face forward. She held her breath and feeling the captain's warm, wet pussy against her muzzle, she began to lick.
The captain's thighs clamped on the side of her head. Not painfully, but enough to muffle hear hearing, to which she could hear the captain's moans though transmitted through her legs. He pelvis quivered, as her own did as the captain tasted her femininity. To Miss Browning's surprise, the taste was not at all unpleasant, but ever so slightly sweet. It reminded her of how she liked her morning tea back home, a pleasant thought that made her lick more vigorously.
She could no longer hold her breath and upon releasing it and inhaling, she was greeted with a sweet, slightly musky scent that like the captain's taste, was not unpleasant. She found it quite erotic, actually and began to thoroughly enjoy this oral experience.
"Oh, you little treasure, you!" The captain said after enjoying several minutes of the young ladies pleasuring. She leaned forward and kissed her, licking Miss Browning's muzzle, wetted in her own juices. "I would so love to keep you for my pet." She whispered.
It was around midnight when they arrived at the waters outside Charleston Harbour. They would anchor until the morning to make port.
The night had passed uneventful for the crew until a voice came from the water. "Ahoy!" Shouted a voice from a row boat with six men that was approaching their sloop.
The crewman who got the short straw for night watchman got up from his umpteenth hand of solitaire looked over the rail of the sloop with a scowl and said in his thick accent, "What do you want, mon! It's not even sunrise!"
There was a grizzled old man holding a lantern, squinting to see the dark crewman's face in the thin, pre-dawn light. He was accompanied by two minutemen-turned-port-security and four rowers who were now readying lines in order to board.
"I will have words with your captain." The old man growled.
In less than a minute, captain Fairpaw appeared on deck and hung over the rail, her long hair all dishevelled and hastily tied up. "Who disturbs my sleep?" She says angrily, but unconvincingly so and yawned with a squeak and shook her head, her ears flopping.
The old man was taken aback and smiled at the far too delicate face.
"Goddamnit! What goes on here!" Grit bellowed, startling even the captain with his loud voice and nearly made the old man drop his lantern in the water. "What business do you have waking our captain, you old goat?"
The old man, a human, lifted his lantern and cocked his head at the sight of the quartermaster and the irony of Grit's intended insult. "The Harbour Master wants to know yer business in Charleston."
"A passenger." Captain Fairpaw replied.
The old man looked the breadth of the ship, removed his hat and scratched his head. "Ye ferry a passenger... one passenger?"
"That's what the lady Captain said." Grit said evenly and seriously with a glare.
"Then ye don't mind that we board and have an eyeball? Unless ye be common smugglers or pirates." The old man asked with a raised eyebrow as the armed men levelled their muskets from the hip at them.
"Quartermaster, prepare to receive out guests." The captain ordered and Grit bellowed to the crew to lower a ladder.
The Harbour Master's inspector immediately went below deck and looked around. He saw but barrels, tarps and chests. Hammocks swung about the clutter. He opened a curtain to a small room to reveal but a head.
Turning his head to and fro with a growl and gritting his less than perfect teeth, he spotted the door aft to captain Fairpaw's cabin. "Open it."
Captain Fairpaw looked shocked and objected, "That is my private cabin and not your concern."
The inspector pointed to the door latch and said to the minutemen, "Open it."
The minutemen smiled at each other and leveled their muskets and cocked the flints, ready to blow the latch off.
"WAIT!" The captain shouted and sighed. She went and unlocked the door.
The minutemen were positively disappointed that they didn't get to shoot something that morning, even if but a lock.
The inspector entered the cabin and held up his lantern. Standing before him was Miss Browning. She looked stunned, having expected the captain.
"Yer passenger, I assume?" The old inspector looked back at the captain rather disappointed to find a girl and not contraband.
One of the minutemen chuckled and aimed his musket at her, "Inspector, we've hit the jackpot."
"What are ye on about, boy?" The inspector growled.
"This.... this wench, is Cecilia Browning. The Redcoats have a bounty of twenty Stirling on her."
The old man looked at the frightened girl, to the captain and to his minuteman. "You're dismissed, both of you!" He shouted!
His sternness caused both of the minutemen to salute and proceed above deck immediately.
When they had left, he looked pleadingly with desperation at the captain, "Go, go now! Take her with ye to from wherever ye came!"
"Sir inspector, if you know whom she is, you must know she seeks asylum." The captain said.
"She can't have it here." He said. "The British are desperate to find blame and are handing out coin freely to anyone delivering traitors, real or presumed, be they bodies living or dead! People are desperate for even the basics, whether they be American, free slave or native and if they see an opportunity, they be takin' it!"
"My Lord inspector, why do you concern yourself for my safety?" Miss Browning asked.
He looked at her kindly and gave a smile. He gently touched her shoulders, "You are Cecilia Browning, daughter of Emily, wife of the Count of Essex?"
"Yes, how did you know?" Miss Browning said shocked.
The inspector fought back a tear and rubbed the aristocrat's cheek with the back of his wrinkled hand, "Your mother.... was my daughter." He kissed her forehead, turned and dashed out of the captains cabin.
The ship was a day's sail on a course south from where she came. The sun had set, but the sky was still aflame. Miss Browning hung over the port rail and considered the day's events and what, if any future she had.
"Red at night, sailor's delight." The captain said from behind her and put her arm around her waist.
Miss Browning placed her hand on the captain's reassuring arm and smiled, "Delight for the sailor, indeed. But what shall become of me?"
"Well!" The captain said and ran her hands through Miss Browning's luxurious hair, "I did say that I would like to keep you." She pulled a bandana off her waist that she carried with her when not wearing her captain's hat and put it on Miss Browning.
She turned Miss Browning around to see Grit and the men smiling at her. "Welcome aboard!" One of the men cheered as the rest also did, Yahrr, welcome!" They sailed into the night singing buccaneer songs.
4 - The Flight Home
"That was a nice four day vacation and we got paid for it! I'm loving this being one of John's porn stars." Gere said, relaxing in his chair.
Chelsea was still humming the tune to 'Yo Ho! Yo Ho! A Pirate's Life For Me' and looking out the window.
"Oh, that song!" Solara griped and clasped her ears. "Cheesiest... ending... ever!" She tied into a bag of chick-pea crisps, having acquired quite a fancy for West-Indian snacks on the island and said with her mouth full, "At least they deleted the scene of our rough-tough captain being a cutie little sleepy head."
"I dozed off!" Chelsea replied half defensively. "The boat rocking in the waves was very relaxing."
Gere laughed, "You are too cute, girlfriend of mine, just too cute."