Morganth pauses for a long moment. You stand in the circle of pirates. Dozens of hard cocks strain against their britches, and many of them have taken them out and are openly rubbing them. And every erection is pointed at you like an arrow. But the captain shows no sign of arousal, or any reaction. You know that, after the way you’ve teased them, the crew will gangbang you mercilessly if he turns you down. You feel a thrill of fear and lust at the thought.
Finally, the captain says, emotionlessly, “Follow me.” Then he turns, and walks back into his cabin.
A chorus of groans goes up from the crew:
“Damnit, I was looking forwards to banging her!”
“Gods, I’d kill to stick my dick in that tight arse!”
“Hope the captain’ll be done with her soon...”
You follow Morganth as he commanded. But the whole exhibitionist experience has left you feeling deeply horny, and you’re unable to resist giving a coy glance over your bare shoulder.
“Sorry, boys,” you say sweetly. “Give the fish-bitch a good hard fucking for me.”
There’s a cheer at that, and you see several sailors already grabbing for her. “You bet we will, slut!” one of them shouts in a friendly tone. You realise the crew has taken a liking to you, appreciating your display. This may be an advantage – and while it won’t stop them raping you, it may mean they won’t go out of their way to be rough. With a saucy flick of your bare bottom, you step into the captain’s cabin and shut the door.
Morgath’s quarters are rich and luxurious, with silk, satin and velvet everywhere. The floor is carpeted, which feels wonderful on the soles of your feet after the rough, storm-lashed wood of the deck. This seems to be a sitting-room of sorts. There’s no bed, but you assume it’s behind one of the several doors that lead off from here. The walls are covered in paintings, and even with little experience in such matters you can tell that they are of excellent quality. Most show beautiful women, scantily clad or naked, posing seductively or sprawled wantonly, or pleasuring themselves or eagerly satisfying their lusts with handsome men or each other. Others show strange, evil-looking creatures, or some combination of the two – images of demonic entities ravishing mortal women.
The pictures are disturbing in their detail and the sheer intensity of the desires the artist has captured, but you find them oddly hypnotic, and as you gaze on the scenes you find yourself becoming even more aroused. You wonder when you became such a slut.
But for now your main priority is satisfying that lust, and as you tear your eyes away from the paintings to look at the captain’s handsome features, you know exactly how you want to do it. Smiling seductively, you turn away from him and lean forwards so your hands are resting on a desk. Your pert ass is sticking out towards him, and you know your swollen pussy lips are peeking invitingly between your legs.
“Captain,” you say huskily, “I’ve ever so grateful to you for rescuing me. How can I possibly repay you?”
“Go through that door,” he says coldly. “There you will find some water to wash with, and some clothes.”
You freeze, your cheeks burning with anger and affront. You’ve never had a man scorn your offer like this, and you’re shocked and furious. You suddenly desperately want to seduce Morganth, to make him lose that composure of his and take you. |