Still maintaining a cold expression, you flick one of your nipples with the tip of your finger. A ripple of excitement runs through the crew as they realise you’re going to put on a show for them.
Still maintaining your air of aristocracy, you hold out two fingers imperiously to one of the handsomer pirates. Understanding your intentions, the lucky man leans forwards and takes them into his mouth, licking them with surprising gentleness, lubing them with his spit.
Your remove your fingers, and begin to rub them across your nipples, before sliding them down into your womanhood. As you stroke your clit, you give an exaggerated shiver, baking your breasts bounce and your hips and buttocks sway. Carefully, you clamber down onto all fours, your backside facing the captain to give him the best view, and thrust your fingers into your pussy.
“I require a dildo,” you say as you frig yourself. “No, let’s be honest, I require a cock. Captain, if you would oblige?”
Looking over your shoulder, you see he doesn’t move. “Your pretentions of aristocracy are beginning to annoy me, girl. I can tell you are just some rural village whore. Continue and I may have to break you of your deceit and show you your true place in the world – at length.”
You ignore him – after all, that would be a satisfactory outcome, provided he’s raping you personal. Instead, you slide an extra finger into your pussy. “I cannot fit anymore,” you say, aware that while the captain maintains his look of bored disinterest, his crew are enraptured with your display. “It’s tight as a vice. I am not normally so wanton. But the attentions of your ‘bait’, and then all these horny thugs watching me debase myself… I girl can be forgiven for being a bit overwhelmed. Oh, captain, I want your manhood. I need something hard here, in my pussy – and here.” You remove a finger, wet with spit and juices, and slide it into your asshole. A small cheer goes up from the watching crew, but the captain is unmoved. This annoys you – you’re not faking your arousal, and the crew’s lusty glances feel like trails of fire on your naked skin.
“Your men must want me so. I bet the next women they capture will feel the benefits of that. I bet they’ll rape them raw. I hope there’s a ship full of cute virgins, for you to gangbang until they’re cum-gutter whores.” That gets another cheer. “I bet as soon as I’m done, they’ll take it one on the fish-girl.” You stop your masturbation, and crawl over to the mermaid. “I bet you’ve used this piece of meat – this piece of calamari – so much.” You reach down and spread the lips of her hairless, alien vagina. “I bet you’ve all dumped a flood of cum into this cunt. I bet you’ve fucked her tits.” You rub one of your nipples against hers, and then move it up to her mouth. You’re glad when she starts sucking it.
“I bet you’ve used her mouth, filling her belly with your seed. Can you fuck her gills? Damnit, fuck me, fish-bitch,” you command. “Fuck me with your tentacles. Fill both my holes down there with wet fishmeat.” She obeys, thrusting hard into your pussy and ass at the same time. You don’t’ know if she’s genuinely eager or trying to disconcert you, but all it does is make you give a lusty and quite genuine moan. She’s only put one tentacle in your cunt this time, so you supplement it with two fingers.
“Mm! Yes! You-” you point at another handsome pirate. “Take her. Use her, fuck her. Fuck her while she’s fucking me!”
He doesn’t need more encouragement, and roughly thrusts into her. This seems to send her wild – she moans silently against your breast, and her tentacles lash round madly in your holes. In moments, your cumming. Your extatic shrieks set the already rock hard pirate off, and he shoots a load of cum into her before walking back to the edge of the circle and the congratulations of his friends. The mermaid – or rather merwhore – finishes thrashing around and slumps, letting her tentacles fall limply from your holes.
You reach over, slide a finger into her cunt. It comes out covered in cum and fishy juices, and you lick it clean, savouring the taste. You stand, your own pussy-juices clinging to your thighs, and look Morganth in the eye. “Well, captain?” |