The Pirate Affair Chapter Two Copyright 1997 by AUTHOR22@aol.com Shortly before the Captain of the Bloody Cutlass had allowed his two slaves to go on deck, a small ship, built for speed left a port some 30 miles south east of where the Cutlass had been moored. They were headed on the same course. This ship was not rigged as a square sailer. Her owner, and captain had her built along the lines of small vessels he had seen in the orient. She was long and narrow. She had little cargo space, and she carried no passengers. But she was fast. She carried no weapons; her speed was her defense. Any Pirate ship that might attempt to overtake her would soon see their prey disappearing over the distant horizon, and to safety. The Seagull operated with a crew of six: Its captain and owner, the Quarter Master, and four seamen. The seamen were young men who had developed a love for the sea. One of the four was a few years older with more experience, and even though he was a seaman, he had been given the responsibility of overseeing the other three. Everyone on board took turns at the helm. The Seagull usually carried valuable cargo; gold for military payroll, money being sent between governments, or important messages. She was, in fact, a courier. While she could out sail any square sailer, she needed enough initial distance between her and a tempted pursuer to get underway. Unless she was either going into or out of port she always kept at least twenty miles off shore. She would be difficult to surprise, and surprise was her only Achilles heel. There was a camaraderie amongst the crew that was not commonly found aboard ships. They genuinely liked each other. In port they would visit the same pubs, usually try to score with local girls, and never visited the brothels. If they were at sea too long, they might secretly cast an appreciative eye at one of their shipmates. It was always done surreptitiously. Their only sexual release came in the form of their own right or left hand, and always in the privacy of their own hammock. If any of them heard one of their shipmates accommodating themselves, they always ignored it. And as they would approach that point of ejaculation they would be fantasizing about the cute little wench they had recently had their way with in their last port. The crew slept in the focsle cabin. In port it accommodated 4 hammocks, but at sea one of the four was always on deck, so they stowed one of the berths. The Captain and the Quarter Master shared a cabin which was located directly below the helm. That larger cabin also served as the ship's galley. They had known for several days that they were going to be on a long voyage. They had not been told what they would be carrying, but as usual it would be valuable. It wasn't till late in the evening that four horsemen had arrived, armed to the teeth. They carried a medium sized chest weighing enough so that it took two of them to bring it on board. The cargo on most ships was common knowledge. The Seagull was the exception. Whatever was in that chest was valuable enough to demand a handsome fee. It would be a none stop sail to the port of New Orleans. Most of the previous day had been spent loading an unusual amount of supplies; water, hard tack, and that tropical fruit usually found in Spain: Oranges. Denny, the youngest of the crew, also did most of the cooking. He had a talent for making the humdrum something extraordinary. He had taken quite a ribbing from the crew, including the captain, when he first joined the Seagull. He was fresh off of the farm and just 17. He had never fucked anyone with the exception of his right hand, and to that practice he was addicted. One of his buddies had counted six times in the first day he had been on board. Almost immediately everyone started calling him Jack. Even though only the crew understood the reason for the nickname, it did stick. Jack was tender in appearance. His rosy cheeks, his slim waist, and his boyish grin merged with his virginal, yet eager sexuality. The resulting image was one which prompted his shipmates to get the lad laid. Jose was the other youngster. However, he was a city boy. His knowledge of the streets of el Havana was legendary. He knew more about how and where to get anything that the ship or her crew might need, than even the Captain. The Captain of the Seagull soon learned that the two lads made a good team when it came to laying in supplies. Jack knew what food items he wanted, and Jose always purchased them at an amazingly low price. The crew were better fed than those of any other ship. Life on board this unique craft while not leisurely, was a far cry from what most men at sea experienced. The Captain was a stickler for cleanliness, and this was reflected in everything that had to do with the Seagull. Her crew were always clean, and well dressed. In port the sails were always furled. All lines were coiled, and her hardwood decks were kept scrubbed. Even the poop deck was kept sanded smoothly giving the appearance that no one had ever hung their arse over the stern. -------------------------- The Captain of the Bloody Cutlass had rested for a few minutes after his two slaves left him. The idea of having the girl join their late night revelry pleased him. As Pirate Captains go, he was a good one. His crew appreciated him, and there was much to appreciate. In battle he would join his men side by side swinging his cutlass, firing his musket, not only defeating the enemy, but protecting his men. Most Captains sought the protection of the helm while prompting their men to fight. But the man's appreciation of the boys had not gone unnoticed. Fucking the cabin boy was not uncommon amongst the Pirate fleet. But when there were wenches to be had they were usually the preference. Not so with the Captain of the Bloody Cutlass. Almost a year had passed since he had last taken a woman. It had been a conscious decision to improve his image. He and most of his crew were in the Keg of Ale in Tortuga when Captain Mary Read had entered. Most people who did not know her thought that she was a man. She was rough and tough. Her rolling gate was that of a seaman. She bragged about the number of men she had run though. And despite being a woman, her ship was among the most feared in the Caribbean. It was presumed that her masculine roll included wenching. No one ever had the guts to confront her with that part of her reputation. But she was a smart woman, and even though her reputation really reflected her appreciation of a slim, trim female, she was concerned about her image in much the same way as was the Captain of the Bloody Cutlass. On that particular evening, Mary had entered the pub, and sat herself down at a corner table. In a loud voice she demanded a new bottle of rum and a glass. The bartender had set the bottle and glass on the bar, and started to walk around to the front, when the Captain of the Bloody Cutlass picked up the bottle, and served the woman. "How's ya doin' Frank? Been a long time. Sit yer self down and join me." The usually loud noise of the pub quieted down. His crew wanted to see what was going to happen next. And they were not disappointed. The two Pirate Captains proceeded to get drunk while spinning tales of their adventures. Then they started feeling each other. He had his hand on her tits, and she was a-feeling his cock. Right then and there he laid her back on the table, pulled out his cock and fucked her as his crew yelled and shouted, rooting them on. But that had been more than a year ago. Adding the girl slave to his cabin staff would be good for his reputation. Then he smiled at the thought that she could relieve the boy like she did tonight, and that would make the boy even better at sucking his cock. He was beginning to recover from his sexual exercise, and began to realize the slaves had been gone longer than he had intended. After pulling on his trousers, he walked bare footed out on deck looking for the wayward couple. They were not in plain sight. He figured the boy was probably pumping his pego into the wench hidden somewhere in the shadows. He must not let the crew realize he had lost control over his slaves; that would be disastrous. He would need to make an example of them. Maybe make the boy lash the girl to the foremast, and then give her 5 strokes with the cat and nine tales. He went back to his cabin angrily cursing the couple. When he found them they would be sorry. He did not sleep well that night. He was sure the boy was fucking her all night. That did not please him. Still the boy had not returned as the morning sun had brightened his cabin. This was turning into a serious matter. The ship needed searching, but he could not be seen looking for his slaves. On deck he called the Quarter Master to the helm, and instructed him to do a head count of the slaves. An hour later the man returned reporting they were four short. Everyone assembled amidships. "We have had four slaves disappear, and you can't tell me that ye didn't know about it." He was speaking to the slaves huddled on the deck. "And it's going to cost ye. For each man who disappeared one of ye will walk the plank." He turned to his men, "I want you to talk amongst yourselves and decide which four it's ta be. And it'll be done a fore sunset." The Captain returned to stand alongside the helmsman. The men were talking among themselves. Slaves were worth money. Throwing them over the side could be expensive. However, there were some whose loss would be negligible. The slaves were still huddled in a group when the Quarter Master approached the Captain. "They's decided, Capn'. And they are the most worthless. Probably wouldn't bring a farthing at the auction. There's that little red headed girl. Nobody's going to buy her. She is too tiny to fuck, and her mouth is too small for a cock. Harry knocked her about for biting his pego. Then thar's the woman that every body's had. Her arse hole is bigger than her cunt, and she stinks. Gerald is pissed at his slave, and want's to be rid a him. He's the one that is always gettin' beat. Then the last one is an old man. He ain't smart. Never had no trade. Too old to work the fields. Too dumb to be of any value." "Very well. No point in delaying it. Let's do it now. Rig a plank off the port side. Let me know when yer ready. Don't let the slaves know whose going over the side till we're ready ta do it." --------------------------- Some where between the fast moving Seagull and the Bloody Cutlass, the spirits of the two unclothed dead slaves remained in a limbo of discovery. They were comfortably sitting on the cloud; but it was boring. "So what's next?" Scott asked the girl. "How do I know. I ain't never been here before. All's I know is that I am getting hungry." "Well, we can't stay here forever, unless this cloud is what you're gonna eat. But if you do that where will we sit?" Jerry looked at him with a superior smirk as though he were a foolish, unlearned boy. "I don't really know if it's hunger, but it's a craving. You know, like when you just gotta eat some fruit, or somethin'; but the craving ain't for no food I ever tasted." Scott looked over at her, ignoring her comments. "Well, how do we get off a this thing?" "Guess the same way you got on it." "Fuck, I ain't gonna get ate by no mo sharks." "That's not what I meant. Just concentrate on moving, and ya'll move ... I think." "Well I don't want ta leave this cloud, unless I've got some place to go." Scott moved around, sinking into the soft depth of the billowy substance. "Why don't we both concentrate and try to move in that direction. Maybe we can take the cloud with us." They choose a point about 50 feet to the north, closed their eyes, and applied all of the intensity they could muster. They felt themselves moving. Quite suddenly they splashed down into the warming Caribbean Sea. "Well that sure as hell didn't work. Let's get back on our cloud." And in just a moment they were again sitting side by side on their celestial couch. "That's got me tired." The boy declared, "We sure can't go very far that way." "Guess we'll just have to wait for a passing ship and hitch a ride." Jerry started to rub her stomach, "Aren't you getting at all hungry?" "Now's ya mention it. But it's not exactly hunger. It's like you said, kind of a craving." The girl, again taking a superior tone of voice said, "See, I told ya. What I crave is something tangy, and yet somethin' that smells clean and nice; like when I'm washin' dishes." Scott began to chuckle to himself as he recognized what it was that they were craving. "What are you laughing at ass hole?" Jerry asked. "I know what you are craving for, and you ain't gonna be too happy 'bout it." "Well that experiment in moving took a lot out of me. I'm a lot hungrier now than before we tried that." "True enough." Scott sat there quietly for a long time, and then told her what he had guessed. "A while back we were talking about Ectoplasm. That's what I think we are craving." "So... If we don't know what it is, giving it a name doesn't help much. Don't be so fucking stupid." "Oh I know what it is all right." Scott was laughing so hard that he began loosing control of himself. "Stop that!" she commanded, "you are flashing on an off. Disappearing!" The boy finally got control of himself. Then he realized that spell of laughter had left him even more tired than he had been before, and the craving had intensified. In a more serious note he continued, "Remember that last night on the Bloody Cutlass?" Thoughtfully, the girl nodded her head. Scott's smile was still there, but be began to realize the seriousness of his guess. "Think about it for a while. Specially that stuff with me and the Captain when your face was just inches away." The girl began to scowl as she remembered the disgusting incident, the boy sucking the captain's cock, and her stroking the boy. "I'd rather not." She paused for a moment, then the recollection of the odor of the boy's sperm spewing onto the captain put her into a state of shock. "Oh Gawd NO! You mean you think we are gonna have to live off a that stuff. I'd rather eat pussy." He couldn't resist the poke at her, "I kinda figured you would. But for dinner you're gonna have to go on a sausage diet." "Maybe you could suck cock, and I could suck yours; get it kind a second hand." The idea of the girl's lips around his pego brought it instantly to attention. "Well, if you think it will satisfy your craving, go a head and try it." Scott laid back, sinking slightly into the soft comfort of the cloud, his hard cock red, and ready. Jerry moved toward him as he spread his legs apart. Her hands reached for the throbbing tool. Slowly she placed her lips over his member and began sucking on the head. "That's nice, but you ain't gonna get no results doing it that way, you gotta put more tongue into it, and you need to go all the way down. Try and swallow it." The girl's head began to bob up and down the shaft. The faster she went the more rigid it became. Scott began to moan as the pleasurable feelings started within the very core of his being. The touch was incredible. He began moving his hips up to meet her downward moving lips. "Come on swallow me pego." The girl gulped the instrument, and surprisingly took it all. "Oh! Oh! Oh Fuck that feels good. I think I'm gonna come. Keep at it." Again and again the boy's shaft pistoned down her throat. His hips were now moving at a frantic rate, and the sensation was the most intense he had ever experienced. And it kept getting better, and better. "Oh, Oh, Oh. I gotta come. I can't stand much more of this." But his hands told the truth about his pleasure as he held Jerry's head so that she could not move away from the plunging cock. Minutes went by and the astonishing feeling remained. Jerry jerked away from Scott, and sat up. She looked at the boy, who was still laying there in an almost catatonic state of sustained pleasure. "Well, I sure as hell didn't get anything out a that." "Oh! Oh! Oh! It feels so good. I don't ever want it to stop." His hard cock was sticking straight up into the air, rigid, and very ready. Minutes went by and the boy was still laying there in a state of sensory pleasure. Finally, Jerry again put her foot on his hip, pushed hard and shoved the boy off of the cloud and into the sea. The sudden dunking forced the boy's mind from his genitals to his wet body. The organ instantly had collapsed. Only after several moments of hard concentration was he able to place himself back on the cloud. What little reserve energy he had was almost gone. His visibility flickered, then extinguished. The girl became frightened by this sudden change in events. "Don't do that. I can't see you." The boy sighed, "Can't help it." He laid back on the cloud, and began to sleep the exhausted repose of someone who had had no rest in days. Jerry sat almost alone. Only the sound of the boy's shallow breathing kept her company. Then her energy level also began to wane. Her visibility also flickered out as she joined Scott in rest, their spirits becoming slightly more revitalized by their nap. ----------------------------------------------- The Seagull's wake was a frothy stark white contrast to the surrounding emerald sea. The speed she was making would put them in the new world a day ahead of schedule. Jack and Jose were in the galley preparing the evening meal. The movement of the vessel through the ocean was fairly stable as the inertia projected them through a calm sea. The craft was heeled over a few degrees to starboard, but it remained that way, so they needn't take any special precautions in handling their utensils. Jose was peeling potatoes which Jack intended to boil along with some fresh cabbage they had bought the day before. There was also some salted meat that tasted a lot like pork. The cabbage, potatoes, and meat would make a good meal; probably the last they'd sit down to before entering New Orleans harbor. Foul weather would probably be ahead of them. That would mean fruit, hard-tack, and water. And eating while standing; probably on deck. Jack would try to have hot coffee or tea for the crew. But keeping the kettle on the stove would be difficult if not impossible once they were into a rough sea. When the crew was not sleeping they were expected to be on deck, keeping an alert eye out for Pirates; especially at night. Jack's favorite spot on the entire ship was the small platform atop the main mast. From there he could see for miles. But if the ship should change course and come about, the sudden change and jerking of the main boom could unseat anyone that far above the deck. The young crewman always tied himself to the mast with a line short enough to prevent his leaving the crow's nest. His Captain was pleased with the boy's choice of pleasurable places. On more than one occasion the halyard on the main had jumped off the pulleys and jammed. The top of the main was within reaching distance of his perch. If he hadn't been there the helmsman would have had to bring her into the wind, lofting the sails. The otherwise stable ship would then be at the mercy of the pounding seas, bouncing her around till everything was tangled, and difficult to restore. -------------------------------- The slaves aboard the Bloody Cutlass knew the Captain would not change his mind. He had shown his ruthlessness on more than one occasion, even having killed one of his own men when the man had tried to have his way with the Captain's cabin boy. The Captain never thought in terms of right or wrong, ruthlessness or compassion. His concern was discipline and image. Disposing of the four slaves needed to be done for effect. He wanted the slaves to realize their own peril. The crew's choice couldn't have been more serving of his purpose than had he picked them his self. They would be so overwhelmed by the walking of the plank that no one would realize one of the four runaway slaves was the Captain's own cabin boy. "Mr. Johnson, line the slaves up on each side of the plank." His command to the Quarter Master was loud and clear, projected with the clarity of an actor on a stage, and with as much dramaticism. Three of the four to walk the plank were at the end of the line, far from the side of the ship. He smiled to himself as he imagined the reaction of those creatures when they heard whose fate was being sealed. "To show that we are fair men, we have chosen two females and two males." The slaves didn't respond. They stared blankly at their captors. For the most part they had resigned themselves to their fate as a group. The Captain continued. "I want's ye to know what is in store for ye, if another of you'se disappear. Mr. Johnson, the youngest female first." The Quarter Master, who had placed himself at the end of the line, reached for the long red hair of the ten year old waif that was to be the first. She was already sobbing, but the man's sudden jerking of her hair let loose a wail that could be heard from one end of the ship ta the other. The slaves gasped as they realized what this evil man was about to do. The girl was lifted from the deck by the hair of her head and placed on the plank. The woman who had been the target of every man's cock was close to the plank. Not knowing that she was to be next, she screamed at the crew in an oath that would have put a sailor to shame. She grabbed the little girl, picked her up in her arms, and dove into the sea holding the child close to her bosom. The Captain's reaction was instantaneous. "Well she was ta be the next." He roared in laughter. His crew joined in. The woman's actions had been a defiant gesture of opposition to the purpose of this execution. He could not let them get one up on him. The laughter was not genuine, but no one detected its lack of authenticity. When the laughter died down he continued, "Let's get on with it Mr. Johnson; the youngest male first." Gerald's slave must have sensed that he was on the list. He had no reaction to his being sought out. He walked to the edge of the plank. Unlike the previous two, his body showed bruises almost everywhere; buttocks, inner thighs, back, shoulders, and even face. He had suffered much, and eagerly awaited his fate which could only be better than what he had endured aboard the Bloody Cutlass. With no prompting he walked to the end of the plank and did a perfect swan dive into the waiting sea. There was no reaction from the naked slaves as they saw who was the last selection. In fact if they had been poled as to whom they themselves would have selected, this man would certainly have been the most likely. He was an old man. There was neither wisdom, nor strength, skill, nor endurance in his favor. No one would have admitted that one other characteristic of the man had placed him at the top of their personal list. He was constantly farting. Not just a silent smeller, but unusually loud, wet, and stinking. Mr. Johnson had presumed that the old man would have to be forced to walk the plank. He was surprised to see the old man proudly walk between the line of slaves on either side of him. Gracefully, although nakedly, he stepped upon the plank and walked to its end. Only then did the old man turn to face his executioners. He bent his right arm at the elbow, placed his left hand on that elbow, closed his right fist, and gestured upward in an Italian "Fuck you" salute, while simultaneously letting loose the loudest, wettest, smelliest fart that any one had ever witnessed. He then turned and dove into the sea. Without another word, the Captain, whose face had turned a scarlet red in response to the final display of contempt, turned and walked to the helm. "Mr. Johnson, I want every slave to be on his hands and knees scrubbing every inch of this ship from stem to stern. Then I want it holystoned. Any slave who is slack in his work will receive five lashes a the cat." ------------------------------------ Jack had been at the helm for several hours. The wind was brisk off of the port quarter. The Seagull was cutting a speedy path westward. The ship's course had been steady ever since he came on watch. The sea was calm, so that she moved through the water as straight as an arrow. The wheel required only occasional pressure to port to keep her on course. Jack's mind had been on a fantasized sexual day dream which had been prompted by a rare purchase he had made in their last port. While he and Jose had been scouring the marketplace for supplies, something had caught his shipmate's eye. Jose needed little incentive to bargain and thus was occupied. A small boy had approached Jack. "You want to fucky my sister? Only ten pesos, and she is almost a virgin. You like. No?" Jack had ignored the tiny hawker, but the child had been persistent. Even though the lad was small in both size and years, he was street wise and sensed this young seaman was not being tempted by his sales pitch. "I have a brother that you might like." The look that Jack gave the lad made him realize he was about to loose his first prospective customer of the day. But "No" was not in the boy's vocabulary. He just needed to find the right merchandise. Unless his quarry had recently had a girl, sex should be the chosen commodity. "I have a rare piece of art worth many doubloons." Before Jack could turn away the persistent boy pulled out a roll of cloth, unfurled it, displaying an interesting drawing. It was unique. The youthful merchant had recently acquired it as part of his fee for guiding two drunken sailors to a brothel. The piece of art depicted a naked man whose cock head was being licked by an equally naked girl. The artist had done justice to his fantasy. The colors were a bit brighter than they should have been, but the painter had caught an expression of lustful anticipation in the male models eye. It was the lips of the girl, which were servicing her partner that brought the sketch to life. Jack's pego immediately tented his white seaman's trousers. The boy forced himself not to grin when he noticed his customer's response. Quickly the canvas was rolled, and secured with a piece of string. "Ten doubloons is all I ask for this exquisite rarity." Jack noticed that the boy was staring at the bulge in his pants, and began wondering about the boy's sister. "What's ya got there?" Jose joined them. "The kid want's ten doubloons for this drawing. Have you any money?" Jose ignored Jack's question, "Ten doubloons for a piece of canvas. I think not." The child looked crushed as he realized his customer was not going to be the easy mark he had anticipated. "Seven and half?" "Two is all we'll pay. Not a sliver of silver more." "But it cost me six." The vendor lied. "Two. And that's the end of it." Jose grabbed Jack's elbow and led him away. The child followed, continuing his bargaining, "My mother will beat me if I come home with so little. Please handsome sirs." Jose and Jack continued to walk toward the ship. "Damn you. All right I'll let you have this rare piece for three." Jose stopped, and turned to the boy. He had won, and that pleased him. "Here is the Three, let's see what we bought." The vendor removed the string, letting the cloth unroll. Jose was pleased by what he saw. "And here's a half doubloon more. Yer a good salesman." Jose reached over and tousled the boy's head. As Jack relived that scene his cock lurched. Surreptitiously he moved his hardening organ upward so that the head was being held in place by his belt. Then consciously he forced himself to concentrate on the compass and the ship's course. Within the hour the helmsman was relieved by Jose. "I've been looking at that drawing we bought. It's damn nice. I think I cheated the boy." "The girl looks Chinese, but not the man. What do you think?" "No telling. But it's nice." Jack left the wheel with the intentions of resting for a few minutes in his hammock before going back on deck. He climbed into his bed, stretching out, eyes closed. The scene in the picture came into his mind. His imagination animated it. His closed eyes looked out into the room where the girl was bobbing her head up and down on the man's cock. Jack's own cock stirred, but was still held captive by his belt. He was inclined to massage it, but it was daylight and anyone might come into the focsle cabin at any moment. His lustful thoughts would not leave him. With intentful purpose he set his feet upon the deck, took hold of the painting, and headed for his favorite private place, the crows nest. He leaned back against the top of the main mast, facing the Seagull's bow. Without even unfurling the picture he closed his eyes, and loosened the top of his trousers. His hard pego practically leaped into the open air. Then Jack unrolled the picture. His eyes created an entry into a land of fantasy that would be most pleasant. ----------------------------------- Jerry had been resting. And the resting had done her good. She still felt weak, and her craving was intense. She wasn't sure why she had suddenly opened her eyes. She sensed that something had changed. It wasn't that she heard, or smelled anything. It was just a sense that something was about to change. In confusion she looked around her. Scott was not visible, but she could hear him breathing. She looked to the east. A narrow, fast ship was headed directly toward them. "Scott, wake up. Scotty, do ya hear me?" Sleepily her partner replied. "I am so tired. What do you want?" "I think our prayers have been answered. Look down there." She had no visible finger which to follow. "Look down at the water to the east." "My Gawd it's a ship, and it looks like her mast is going to cut right through us." Jerry was now awake and alert. Get ready, when she gets here we'll board her crows nest. As the Seagull approached the cloud, Jerry saw Jack, and what he was doing. He had his hand around the base of his exposed cock, eyes closed, and dreaming about the girl in the painting. Jerry and Scott stepped onto the passing platform. Quietly she whispered. "Look, Dinner is about to be served." She knelt between Jack's legs, while Scott stood to the side looking on. As Jack's hand moved up to the head of his cock, Jerry placed her lips just a fraction of an inch above. If he ejaculated she could capture most of it. As his hand began to retrace its course back to the base, her lips followed, enveloping the organ. Jack couldn't believe the reality that this fantasy was taking. He could actually feel the oriental girl's lips around his instrument. And as he increased the pace, the imaginary sensations were becoming incredible. Soon, his hand was moving much faster, and Jerry's lips were following. Quite suddenly Jack felt he was on that last climbing of the slope. His muscles went rigid, and he spasmed. Spurt after spurt of cum burst from his pulsing cock. He thought he heard a female voice say, "Damn that was good." Jack opened his eyes, expecting to see his sperm all over his trousers and shirt. He was confused by the fact that there was none. His logical mind took over suggesting that the wind had carried his seed into the sea. Jerry was feeling much better. She felt good. She felt great. She felt like a new person. But, again, her intuitiveness came to the fore. Again there was something about to happen. Her senses became sharp and alert. She thought she could hear a small voice being carried by the wind. She stood facing the bow of the ship. Almost invisible to her eye she could see what appeared to be a floating log, and that there was something live clinging to it. She shouted, "Look off of our Starboard Bow." Jack heard the feminine voice, loud and clear. He jumped to his feet, and looked off of the Starboard Bow. Then he saw what Jerry had seen. He leaned over the rail of the Crows nest. "Cap'n! Cap'n, off a the Starboard Bow." The Captain looked up at the shouting figure. What he saw astounded him. There was young Jack, his hard Pego pushed through the netting of the Crows nest shouting something, and pointing wildly into the distance. At first glance the Captain had thought the lad was trying to piss, but the pego was far too rigid for that. And the boy's antics were even more confusing. However, his eyes followed the pointing arm. "Quarter Master, bring me me long glass." The magnifying instrument brought an image to his mind that was beyond reason. There, clinging to the branch of a tree was a tiny naked form. It could a been a skinned cat except for its long red hair. "Jack, me boy, any ships on the horizon?" The crows nest confirmed that there was none. "Helmsman, bring her into the wind. Quarter Master! Make the dingy ready." Without further orders the Quarter Master and the leading seaman lowered the small boat, boarded it, and rowed in the direction of the forsaken child. For what ever substituted for adrenaline in a ghostly body, was now surging through Scotty. Even though he was weak from having not as yet fed, he had jumped to the side of the crows nest, and was viewing the target of everyone's attention. "My God! That's the little girl from the Bloody Cutlass. She must a fallen overboard." "I'll be right back." Jerry's whisper was overheard by Jack. He looked around, and chalked his hearing to another imaginary incident. At that point he resolved not to give his pego as much attention. Things had been a little weird since he had purchased the drawing. There was nothing to see, but Scott knew Jerry was now on board the dingy that was rapidly approaching the wailing little girl. As the dingy approached the child the Quarter Master gave his oar to the leading seaman. "Try and keep her steady." Death was something the waif knew nothing about. She had no experiences upon which to base her feelings. Certainly she was frightened. The woman who had gone over board with her had drifted away many hours earlier. When she felt the warm human hands grasp her under the arms, and lift her from the water, her reaction was as though she had been lifted from hell directly into heaven. Her tiny arms wrapped themselves around the neck of her savior. She clung tightly, sobbing, "Please don't throw me back. I'll do anything you tell me." She sobbed out her tale of being thrown from a ship. Neither the Quarter Master nor the leading seaman gave the incoherent babblings any credence. After all the child must be hysterical. Only God knew how long she had been clinging to that log. However, there was a ghostly presence on that small boat that did give the child's sobful tale attention. Jerry was shocked by her conclusions. If there was any truth in the girl's story something needed to be done. There was nothing she could do to assist, so she returned to the crows nest as Jack was climbing down the mast. Scotty was far too tired to pay any attention to Jerry's story. The emergency reserve of energy had been spent. He became inanimate, laying back on the hard platform he hoped to simply rest till he felt better. On the Captain's orders Jack had gone below to the galley to prepare a kettle of hot tea. His instructions were to add a small measure of rum to the cup, just before bringing it on deck. The little girl had quieted down, once her feet were on the ships deck. She had not willingly relinquished her hold on the Quarter Masters neck, and even now had her arms tightly around his legs, her little face buried in the man's crotch. His hands reached down to the tiny head, trying to stroke her, but her tangled hair snagged his fingers. Jack kneeled along side of her. The smell of the tea, the strange sharpness of the spirits, and the warmth enticed the girl to let go of the Quarter Master. Her tiny lips gratefully accepted the offered cup. The strange taste was not pleasant but it coursed through her body bringing much needed warmth. Yet she continued to shiver. Jack placed his arms around her small waist. Her little bottom was very cold. He cupped one tiny globe till it felt a bit warmer, then cupped the other. Slowly she looked up into the faces of the tall strangers that surrounded her. She turned toward the Quarter Master, and reached for the man's penis. She was expecting to pay for her rescue in the coin that had been the price of her existence on the other ship. Nothing could be as bad as the time she had clung to that log. No matter what she would not bite. The crew of the Seagull were men of the world. They had seen children providing sexual services in bawdy houses in almost every port. But, they were aghast as they realized the little girl was expecting to pay for her rescue. The Quarter Master gently removed her small hands from his limber cock, lifting her to his chest, comforting her as though she were his own child. His arms held her tightly. Hers were firmly encircling his neck. The man carried the child to the galley-cabin hoping to find some clothing small enough for her to wear; something that would protect her from the approaching night air. The day had been an unusual one for every one on board the Seagull. As the sun dropped below the horizon, and before the other heavenly bodies provided light to the oncoming night sky two of the four seaman were already in their hammocks. Both Jose and Jack lay in their berths. The day had been full of adventure. Jack's mind was reexamining his experience in the crows nest. His cock had hardened as he was reexperiencing that fantastic jerk off. Unintentionally his left hand was adding physical stimulation to what was becoming a repeat of his earlier trek. Quietly, he glanced toward his cabin mate, to assure himself that his exercise was not being observed. The cabin was very dark. Neither men could see each other. In the other hammock Jose's imagination had turned to the painting they had purchased. Like Jack, his thoughts began to animate the scene, giving life to the still. His hands went to his stiff member, and began the time honored practice which such thoughts inevitably led to. Realizing Scott's needful condition, Jerry had created such a commotion that even the dead could not sleep through it. "We need to get you below. You need to eat." She stopped her harangue for just a moment as she realized that "Eat," was not an appropriate term. While Scott agreed with her, just laying there on the deck was restful; he did not want to move. Eventually the girl had her way, and the two spirits descended to the main deck, and then into the focsle cabin. They discovered a ghostly sense they did not know they possessed. Even though the two cabin mates were immersed in the darkness of an unlit night sky, the two spirits could see the room and it's occupants with as much clarity as if it had been on deck at mid-day. Jerry, motioned Scotty to explore Jose's efforts. She would enjoy seconds from her earlier source. Jose's legs were bent at the knees creating a tent in which his right hand was stroking his long, thin tool. Jose's cock was hooded, the foreskin sliding easily up and down the stiff rod. As Jerry had done with Jack, Scotty placed his lips just above the pulsing member. Then as the hand moved to encircle the head, his lips joined in, following the downward stroke. The boy's imagination took the extra sensation into stride as the animated image from the painting took on even more life. For just a moment he thought Jack had joined him, and the thought of Jack's lips being the ones around his pego were surprisingly welcome. Meanwhile, in the other hammock almost the same thoughts were being generated in Jack's mind. The feeling on his cock was too real. Could it be that Jose wanted his cock. The two thoughts some how linked, and they both climaxed at the same instant. Shot after shot of sperm was instantly caught in the mouths of the two ghosts. The energy it brought to Scott was miraculous, and without thinking he uttered, "Thanks man, I needed that." Both men were startled by the voice. They wondered if they imagined it. They also wondered if it was their cabin mate. Guiltily, they remained silent, not being willing to admit to themselves, nor to acknowledge to the other that such thoughts, or behavior had occurred. Their conscience elected to ignore the real, and consign the experience to a very imaginary, yet very real day dream. Almost instantly the two shipmates fell asleep. Later that night Jose and Jack had the watch. Jose was at the helm while Jack was lookout. On occasion the two looked at the other for any sign that the earlier experience had been real and not a day dream. Each wondered about the other. Secretly they each hoped the experience had been real, and therefore repeatable. Eventually, they caught each others eye, and became convinced that the other had sucked his cock. The other two seaman who had been relieved had gone below. They lit a lamp so that they could undress before crawling into their hammocks. The younger boy had discovered Jack's painting, and the two looked at it for quite a long time. Even though the older was the lead seaman, the two shared an almost brotherly appreciation for one another. Jose and Jack were close buddies, and so were these two. They joked about the quality of the picture, and the thoughts that the scene brought to mind. The younger one commented, "I didn't get laid while we were in Port Royal. I'm so horny I could fuck a snake." Without further comment, they replaced the picture, extinguished the lamp, and crawled into their own hammock. Again, the picture became animated in the imagination of the two cabin mates. And the two ghosts took full advantage of the opportunity. The entire episode was an exact duplicate of the earlier one. Both men were incredibly surprised by the feeling of real lips around their cocks. The earlier comment "I'm so horny I could fuck a snake" added more fact to the wonderment about it being their shipmate who was doing the honors. Then quite intentionally, Scotty repeated the final tag to the experience. In a deeper than usual voice he said, "Man, I needed that." The two shipmates fell asleep wondering about the other.