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The girl bouncing on captain B. Fatima’s cock threw her head back in rapture and moaned, shivering as she came for the eighth time, gripping his meat even tighter with the walls of her juice-drenched pussy. He felt another trickle of her honey go down his balls to join in the pool that soaked the sheets of his bunk. He had had her ride him because he was getting a bit tired with their lovemaking marathon, even more so ever since she had noticed that he was extremely well endowed by mother nature, knew how to use that pecker of his well and had given her two world-shattering orgasms during the first hour and a half. And seeing that he could go on and on she just wouldn’t let him persuade her that perhaps enough is enough. This was the best fucking of her life and knowing the captain’s fame she knew she had to take as much as possible from him because there would be no seconds.

The girl’s head returned to normal position and she looked at her lover through the orgasmic haze still clouding her vision. Is he bored? The thought crossed her head and she frowned in concern. She was very well aware of her beauty, her big, full breasts and the tight ass that made males of various species stare, her long, violet hair typical for the inhabitants of Halcionne Minor, that men were finding so enticing, and most of all her sexy voice capable of giving hard-ons by itself (she didn’t like it herself very much though because she thought it was making her sound like a slut even when she was speaking about taxes). Many males would have killed just to be blown a kiss from her and this man looked… bored?! Or was it disappointment in his eyes? Her pussy was tight and gripping that wonderful manhood of his hard, she was feeling full and wondered how it was possible for something that big to fit inside her but she was sure it must have been a great feeling for him too. So why was he looking so let down. This was the best fuck of her life and she was willing to return the favour but now that she thought about this the captain hadn’t come a single time and still didn’t even seem close to cumming and filling her love tunnel with his hot semen. She shivered at the merest thought of feeling his sperm inside her and her arms came up with goose bumps.

“Eeek!” she cried in surprise and tried to cover herself when the door to the captain’s cabin slid open with a hiss.

An elderly man wearing a blackish blue tuxedo entered the room carrying a tray with two steaming cups, a sugar container and a sliced lemon. Completely unperturbed by the naked pair on the bed he set the tray on the awful mahogany nightstand and bowed his grey head towards the captain which caused his broken monocle to fall and dangle on its thin, golden chain.

“Your afternoon tea, Young Master. Please excuse my boldness, Young Master, but I allowed myself to prepare a cup for your charming companion as well,” the old man said nasally without looking at anything in particular.

“Thank you, Old Maison,” the captain said and sat up. As his cock moved inside the girl and his skin rubbed her clit she bit her lip in order not to moan and embarrass herself in the presence of some old prick who, she knew it very well, was ogling her boobs even though he was pretending to look at the wall and the ugly picture of a fat, Rubensian mermaid with big knockers.

The butler turned to leave and was halfway to the exit when he remembered something and turned, this time allowing his eyes to slide up and down the striking girl’s naked side and reddening a little in the process. “One more thing, Young Master, you first mate asked me to inform you that there is, and here I quote so that you don’t think me an uncouth knave: a motherfucking Eridanian rich for the picking on the radar; end quotation.” The butler reddened a bit more and coughed politely, bowed once more and left the cabin with his back stiff but the movements of his elbows betrayed that he was cleaning the broken monocle and putting it back in its proper place.

“Get off me, love, will you?” B. Fatima spoke for the first time ever since they had started making love. “I’ve a ship to rob and loot to plunder… or somesuch.”

“Oh come on, one more time? Pretty please?” she whispered seductively and rocked her hips with his hard cock still inside her. “I still have to make you feel good, oh captain my captain,” she giggled and tried to kiss him but he evaded her and put his index finger between her breasts.

“Get off, love, before I lose my patience completely,” he said seriously and reluctantly she got up, letting his hot manhood slide from her pussy, causing a torrent of her juices to flow. Both looked at the mess on the bed but the captain kept a stone expression and reached for the tea, bringing the cup to his lips and sipping it with a thoughtful expression.

The girl on the other hand smiled victoriously and started gathering her clothes from the floor. She dressed slowly and seductively, putting on more show than was necessary because the captain was no longer interested in her at all. Nevertheless he had made her feel wonderful, she would have never suspected a man so young to be such a skilled, eager and passionate lover. He couldn’t have been more than twenty years old and his blond hair and one dark green eye made him look even younger. His left eye was covered with a leather eye-patch but there was a rumour among the servants on the ship that it was just a ruse to make him look more serious.

Completely dressed, the girl whose name he forgot to ask, leaned over him and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, captain,” she whispered and left the cabin leaving him alone.

B. Fatima sighed. He had had high hopes for this beautiful girl but in the end she let him down like many others. She had a killer body, he admitted it, and somewhere deep inside he was hoping she would be the one to finally end his torment. It would have been nice to keep her at his side and make her his pirate bride to pillage and plunder Eridanian planets and colonies with. But his search would have to continue. Putting the cup back on the tray he got up and wiped his body with a sheet, time for a shower would come after the action. Captain B. Fatima opened his wardrobe and picked a simple khaki jumpsuit; putting it on he noticed to his dismay that someone had embroidered a yellow crown on the left breast pocket. He had taken some time to remove all such markings from all of his clothes but someone, Old Maison probably, thought it his duty to put them back again. Biting a slice of lemon the captain left his cabin and went to the bridge of The Sneezing Kraken, the most fearful pirate ship in the known space.


Kyla Stark propped a black booted foot up against her bed, reclining in a chair as she studied the star map in her hands. This journey was becoming tedious and boring…more of a chore than she liked to admit. Babysitting Lord Zambian’s daughter was a little more than she wanted to handle. The woman was a snobby bitch to say the least. Just the thought of her high pitched voice made Kyla shudder with dread. It seemed to linger in her brain…Kyla fix my hair. Kyla be a doll and fetch me a drink. Kyla fetch me my gown, pluck my brows, do my nails, put on my makeup… The list went on and on and on and it was enough to make her want to singe her beautiful locks of hair before strangling the life out of her. But she had a duty…a mission and it would be done.

With a sigh, she stood and straightened herself with a long stretch and padded to the small sink that adorned the tiny cabin she had been assigned. No luxurious quarters here, she grouched internally and surveyed her appearance. Soon her highness would want to be pampered after her nap and it was Kyla’s duty to serve her bitchness until she was safely dropped at their destination.

Patting her long sable hair, she leaned forward and examined her eyes, making sure their color was just right. A little tweak of the small device just behind her neck would assure that her appearance was sufficiently altered. Even her skin was a nice soft brown color…as if she had basked in the sun all day long on the beaches of Flax. Smiling at her reflection, she tugged and smoothed down the plain black flight suit she wore and turned to leave the room.

A loud blast sounded suddenly, the shift of the ship sending Kyla sailing from one end of her small cabin to the next, tumbling over a stationary chair and knocking the breath out of herself. “What in the…” She wheezed, clutching to the side of the chair for support. “Shit, that hurt…I knew the captain was an idiot, but does anyone listen? No!”

Alarms were buzzing, bells and whistles…every light and sound in the blasted ship was going off. For a horrible minute Kyla stood in her doorway and just stared. People were screaming as sparks flew and smoke began to slowly glide down the hallways of the ships main quarters. Hands on her hips, Kyla shook her head and cursed under her breath. This had NOT been part of the plan.

A shriek pierced the air over all others, turning her eyes to find it’s owner. “Kyla!” Their was her ‘mistress’, long golden hair undone and knotted and dress looking somewhat askew. She supposed that was what happened when one never learned how to dress themselves. “Kyla! Get me out of here! I can’t be taken by pirates!! Do you know what they do with nobility!?” She shrieked, her hands grabbing onto Kyla’s suit. “Slavery Kyla! Slavery! I would become some mans…” She shuddered and wailed, “sex slave! Or worse!! A common house maid or worker!”

God forbid. Kyla thought to herself and trying not to let her disgust show through. “Come…there has to be flight pods close by.”

Taking her hysterical baggage, Kyla pulled her along as she wailed and sobbed about the horrors that would befall them. “Why me? Why not Sinta!? That little witch would have loved this!” Kyla muttered to herself, shoving her tiny body through the throngs of people running for safety. Run! Hide! Pirates! Everyone was had lost their minds.


The assault on the Eridanian ship was shorter than most of the Kraken’s crew would have liked. First of all the warning salvo that was supposed to throw the victim off balance hit the aft with full force taking out the engines and the comm array at the same time, leaving the cruiser a sitting duck, plump and ripe for the picking, as Fatima’s first mate had put it. The Eridanian, who’s name was lost along with its engines, protested weakly by firing her port laser cannons but the shots either missed completely or were stopped by the Kraken’s shields. Some men on the bridge grumbled and cast nasty glances at the firing officer for his good aim and effectiveness. He was a new crewmember, he didn’t know any better. Therefore, he would suffer. Soon. And greatly.

The boarding parties quickly moved to the Eridanian in small shuttles and proceeded to occupy the victim ship by taking over her strategic components and slaughtering the few soldiers who were brave enough to try and oppose them. The rest of the crewmembers and passengers were apprehended and quickly transported back on the Kraken where their fate would be decided. The Eridanian was stripped of all that was useful or valuable, even the chrome faucets were deemed useful by one of the overzealous pirates, not to mention the contents of all safes and strongboxes, lacy underwear, diaries, medals, food and drink (including one of the best vintages of Centaurian red, several hundred crates thereof), and cute furry animals that made their living in the engine room. All that was left behind was really useless junk or items too big or to heavy to carry out in hand and a few strategically placed demolition charges that would turn the once proud, and forevermore nameless Eridanian ship into a drifting husk.

All the captured men and women were gathered in the Kraken’s cargo bay and segregated according to the tradition, that is: men to be sold into slavery, children to be brought the pirates’ secret headquarters for brainwashing and anti-Eridanian indoctrination, ugly women to be sold into slavery (unless they were skilled in cooking which lead them to the aforementioned headquarters as well so they could prepare meals for the children), pretty women to be sold into brothels in various galaxies, and finally the exceptionally beautiful women who were given various serving posts onboard The Sneezing Kraken (at least this was the official version given to the families of those who hadn’t ended up on the slave market). There was also another reason to keep so many beautiful and attractive women on the ship despite the bad luck they were usually bringing with them but it was never made public.

“I demand to be let go!” a sudden shriek pierced above the hubbub of the cargo bay, surpassing even the decibels produced by the noisy loading cranes. “Do you have any idea who I am, you unshaven brute?!”

For a moment a blissful silence fell over the busy cargo bay and only some machines dared break it with their steady hum. Someone coughed, someone sneezed, a small girl whimpered telling someone that she needed to pee and then a terrible laughter erupted from the gathering of pirates performing the selection of their captives.

“I am Lord Zambian’s daughter!” the lady cried again which only heightened the general amusement.

“Of course you are, lil’ missy,” a pirate answered. “Now shut yer pie hole before I stick something in it!”

“You… you… you wouldn’t, would you?” the young woman whimpered, suddenly not so sure of herself.

“Try me, missy, and you’ll see,” the man’s tone turned cold and menacing.

“Captain on the deck!” someone cried but nothing actually changed and everything proceeded as it had, that is in a complete mess. Captives were constantly whining and trying to skip to another group, giving the crew a headache.

Several minutes later a blonde, one-eyed man approached the gathering. He looked a little out of place among his men because it seemed he was ten or more years younger than everyone else and yet all pirates treated him with esteem and obeyed him, moving out of his way and bowing as he passed. The young captain popped the rest of a marshmallow he was eating into his mouth and wiped his hands on a white handkerchief. Blinking with his one good eye he looked at the captured men, women and children, and some aliens too, and looked questioningly one of his subordinates. “What’s with the commotion, Mister Swoon?” he asked.

“We were just finishing the selection, youn… I mean, captain,” the man quickly corrected himself. “Some were a bit troublesome.”

“Indeed? Who exactly?” the captain asked and Swoon pointed to the lippy girl who dared raise her voice. “I see.” The blonde man approached the girl and looked at her from very close, making her take a step back and collide with a woman standing behind her.

“I am…” she started and looked over the captain’s shoulder at the man who had threatened her earlier. “I am Lord Zambian’s daughter and…”

“Of course you are,” he cut her short. “Mister Swoon, what is this woman doing here? She’s in the wrong group!”

The girl jumped, hope suddenly lighting up her eyes and she straightened her back, trying to look majestic and important.

“Is she, captain?” Swoon asked, looking at the girl and his captain with uncertainty.

“How many times do I have to tell you that females of all captured species with bust size smaller than 35B are to be removed from the servant group?! Just look at her!” The young pirate pointed to the girl’s chest. “She’s flat like an ironing board and completely not my type, therefore…”

“…brothel material, yes, captain. I’m sorry, captain.”

“Kyla, no, don’t let them take me, I beg you.” Finally understanding her predicament, Lord Zambian’s daughter turned to the woman standing behind her and grasped her hands.

“Oh, please, spare me the scene,” the captain sighed and yanked the whimpering girl away, pushing her towards another group of women. Then he made eye contact with Kyla and first he paled, then he blushed and the he smiled charmingly and made a gallant bow before her, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles. “Welcome to The Sneezing Kraken, beautiful lady. I am B. Fatima, your new captain.” He smiled again, holding her hand with both his. “Gentlemen, the usual, interview those staying and give them appropriate posts. You may have fun with the rest! Men or women!”


Kyla couldn’t believe her luck, as men from the pirate ship roughly hauled everyone’s butts into the ship and began arranging people into strange groups. The screaming, the whimpering and complaining was too loud to make out all that was going on, but one thing she knew for sure was that her voyage had suddenly taken an interesting turn. The Sneezing Kraken! The one ship had she been after and the Captain were now going to be at her mercy…oh she was sure of that. Her hands practically itched to lash out and kick the living stuffing out of the men stripping her of any potentially valuable possessions and weaponry. They made no effort to hide their intentions as hands groped her ass and bosom, one of them sliding up between her legs with a lewd cackle. Internally she blocked it all out…because as soon as she had a chance his nuts would be hers and his screams music to her ears!

Her simpering baggage however was another matter. She wanted to slap the stupid girl for opening her mouth and wasn’t at all sorry to see her go…Good riddance! Thankfully she was lucky enough to get into the group that would be staying on board. What she hadn’t planned on was the Captain’s attention. The man was strangely enough, younger than his crew…or so it seemed. His long blond hair was pulled back from his face, tied into a pony tail at the nap of his neck, but strands of it still floated loose, framing the sides of his face. His one green eye looked sharp and intelligent…the way he stood spoke of confidence, perhaps laced with a big dollop of cockiness. Now what? Who was this man?

Her first instinct was to step back from him as he bowed and then took her hand, but Kyla never stepped away from a challenge. However his closeness only proved how much bigger he was than her…his shoulders impossibly broad, but his body by no means fat. The man was lean and mean, easily seen even with his suit on.

Warm lips caressed her skin, making her skin tingle and stomach dipped and flutter. Gritting her teeth, she fought to pull back. This was her chance to hitch a ride and then find a way out of chaos.

“A pleasure, Captain, I’m sure.” She managed to respond as he turned his gaze back to hers.

He made a deep Mmm sound in the back of his throat, strangely like a purr as he flashed her another dashing grin. “Why don’t I show you to your quarters.”

It wasn’t quite a question, but a statement as he pulled her forward and slid her arm around his, tugging her along. She stumbled a second and caught herself, their height difference making her have to adjust their joined arms.

“I take it that I am to stay?” She asked him, trying to sound passive and sweet as she would have for her ‘mistress’.


Fatima looked down at the girl for a moment before answering… Something in her voice made him cautious as it seemed strange but then he just realized this could have been her manner of speaking. There were many planets in the known universe where people were brought up and with cultural differences various speech mannerisms were not uncommon. His eyes slid along the interesting curves of her bosom and with a smile her replied. “Yes, you and all the other girls from your group. We have a constant crew rotation on the ship so I am after fresh blood all the time.” The captain saw it proper to omit that more than once he was the one to draw this blood and it wasn’t a lethal method at all.

“So, uh, what will be my role here… now that I am your captive? Dishes? Washing? Cleaning? The captain’s personal harem?” Kyla asked. For a moment Fatima was stunned. Was she flirting with him already? Not that he would mind taking her to his quarters as soon as possible. Surely, without clothes this petite body would prove to be even more juicy than it initially seemed to be.

“Well, hmmm, you will be interviewed, you abilities evaluated and you will be assigned a proper post. Miss Sweetwater will see to that. She will be your direct superior and you will be answering to her. I’m sure she will be able to make good use of your skills, whatever they are. In time your duties might even be extended, should you show promise,” the captain continued, walking at a leisurely pace and undressing her in his mind.

“Sure sounds promising,” Kyla muttered, looking around with interest and taking in all details.

“Miss Sweetwater will introduce you to the rules that you have to observe. Just remember that you can move freely only on the servants’ deck. Access to all other decks is allowed only when you are ordered there or called by a crewmember. If you are caught outside your deck without authorization you will be punished,” Fatima finished grimly and sighed. Several girls had tried their luck this way and their punishment was at the same time saddening and amusing and in one case ended tragically when a woman was raped and than committed suicide.

“What’s the punishment, captain?” Kyla asked, suddenly interested.

“You will be working nude, without your uniform. I’m sure you can imagine what a sight of a naked woman as beautiful as yourself can do to a bunch of men. I’d rather we avoided such fate, Miss Kyla,” Fatima smiled reassuringly.

The rest of the way they were silent and after taking an elevator to the proper deck, the captain opened a door and lead Kyla inside into a spacious waiting room with several striking girls lounging on couches and chatting. “Attention, captain on the deck!” someone cried but just as in the cargo bay, no one paid much attention to the call but a careful observer could have noticed that the girls suddenly started paying attention to their skimpy uniforms, straightening them out, making sure they were looking presentable.

Kyla couldn’t help noticing that what all of the serving girls were wearing served more to accentuate and reveal their assets rather than cover them. Ultra short green skirts, green tops with a zipper on the front that barely covered their breasts and black high boots was all they had on. The only exception was that some wore stockings while other didn’t.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. We have a very strict dress code on board that must be observed by all members of the crew.” B. Fatima smiled lewdly, eagerly awaiting the moment when the new girls start parading on all decks barely dressed. It was very enjoyable, not to mention stimulating. Please wait here until everyone from your group arrives. Miss Sweetwater will be with you shortly.” The captain shook Kyla’s hand and made for the exit, stopping after a few paces as if he suddenly remembered something and looking around. “Kaileena!” he called to one of the sitting girls, a tall, raven haired beauty who’s legs seemed to go on forever.

“Yes, captain?” the called woman stood up politely and smiled.

“How long have you been onboard?”

“Six months, captain.”

“Hmmm, I think it’s time we talked about your release. Come by my cabin when you’re off duty and we shall discuss it in more detail,” Fatima purred, feasting his eye on her beauty, sighed, and quickly left before the erection growing in his pants became noticeable.


Kyla watched the Captain leave and mentally cursed herself for getting into this situation. She had been so close to escaping!! The stupid brat of a woman she babysat had made her slower than usual and it had cost her this! Now she was on board the infamous pirate ship she had been looking for, there was no sign of the Captain she had been searching for! Damn it!

She grit her teeth and looked around the waiting room again, wanting to roll her eyes. It made her stomach sick and she suddenly wished she hadn’t chosen quite the false facade she wore now. Dark haired beauties apparently were Fatima’s’ favorite, with only a few oddball beauties added to the mix. One of which had a shock of blue hair that flowed down to her waist, a paler blue that seemed to have been washed onto her skin and strangely icy blue eyes…Kyla mentally dubbed her Blue Lady and smiled wryly. Now she had her own problems…she had many skills, but none of which belonged in the bedroom and that’s how she liked it. She didn’t want to be his little concubine or anything else for that matter! She just wanted to stake out the ship, making sure the one she sought wasn’t on board – then find a way off and out!

Lost in thought, Kyla hadn’t realized that she was standing still in the same spot Fatima had left her until a cool tap on her shoulder caught her attention. Turning about, she came face to face with Miss Sweetwater. The buxom older lady was striking, even if she was more mature. But what was most disturbing, other than the amount of cleavage she showed, was the amount of leather the woman wore.

“Your name.” She barked, in a low, authoritative tone.


“Age.” She ordered, her dark eyes assessing Kyla’s form and features, making her feel rather naked.

“Twenty – two.”

“Skills. What did you do before you came aboard the ship?” Kyla was beginning to wonder if the woman could ask a question and there was one now! She fought a smile, completely unaffected by the woman’s demeanor. Tough bitches need love too.

Keeping a straight, sweet face, Kyla responded. “I was a personal assistant…I cleaned, washed, pampered and quaffed my mistress.”

One of Miss Sweetwater’s’ finely arched brows lifted slightly before she continued. “Can you cook?”

Kyla shook her head no and watched as the woman spun around, indicating that she should follow. All eyes were on her as she lead Kyla into a small room and shut the door behind her. A man stood to the side, his eyes shut, but stiff as a life sized doll. His features were rather striking…his bare chest muscled and facial structure near perfect. “His is Randy and he will serve to restrain you if you fight this.”

Despite herself, she began to worry a little. “There are no room for lies on this ship. I shall know every detail about you. Now…remove your clothes.”

She clenched her fists to the side and bit back a flurry of expletives that would surely send her to the brig! Slowly she finally moved and under the watchful eyes of Sweetwater, began to unzip her flight suit. Piece by piece the material fell away until she stood nude before the her.

She said not a word, but only nodded from time to time and clicked her tongue before turning about and putting on a pair of gloves. “Excuse me, what are those for?” Kyla asked, shifting her stance a little.

“I must examine you of course…all girls lie…this is the best way to find out if you’re an easy little slut or a virgin.” A sinister little smile played on her lips, making her cringe.

“The hell you will!” Kyla finally spat out and Sweetwater laughed.

“They all struggle dear…that’s why I have Randy.” A gentle tap to the sleeping bots chest opened his eyes. Instantly he sprang into action and caught Kyla by the wrists, pulling her up and off the ground. She yelled in anger and swung around in his impossibly strong grip to lash a foot out at his chest.

A soft thud, but no response told her for certain that Randy was no human. “Now now…be a dear and spread those pretty legs. It’ll be painless.”

Kyla let out an almost primal growl, kicking out, only to have her foot caught by one gloved hand and secure. Sweetwater’s’ grip was equally strong and cool. “Let me go!” She screamed again, panting from her struggles and now dangling helplessly for Randy’s’ grip. Sweetwater let out a strange little chuckle, her rubbery fingers sliding over Kyla’s most intimate parts, down to her pussy. As fingers probed down and up into her body, Kyla closed her eyes and growled again, deep in her throat. “Bitch!”

“Mmmm…tight and…a virgin. How nice. The Captain will be happy with this one…but first I think that clean-up duty will do for a while before she is to be assigned to the Captain as his new and personal cabin wench.”


Shaking his head in disbelief, Fatima left the servants’ deck and took the turbo lift to the bridge. He needed an evaluation on their latest raids as well as income from other illegal activities. After all, he had a base and several ships to support, not to mention all his men, who needed to be provided for in various fashions. Women are nothing but trouble, he thought to himself as he leaned against the wall behind his back. Why, if it hadn’t been for a women he wouldn’t have to keep an unofficial harem on his ship and in his headquarters in hopes of finally nailing the one girl he had to find. If he couldn’t find her, he’d probably go crazy or shoot himself with a blaster to end it once and for all. And now there was a new batch to go through. He shook his head once again. There were still, what, five or so girls from the previous assault on a frigate. And he couldn’t even remember how many he had had sex with over the past years. Fatima had stopped counting.

The turbo lift door opened with a hiss and the captain entered the bridge which was filled with beeping sounds and communicator noise and a lot of blinking, colorful lights that had been giving him headaches ever since he was a small child. All this, coupled with the usual tension associated with decision-making, was enough to keep him away from the bridge as much as it was possible for a captain. He had to show up once in a while to remind everyone who was in charge of this business, which was hard enough as it is. Most of the crewmembers were his seniors both in age and experience so the change of the Kraken’s captain came as a bit of a surprise to them but no one dared object and they served him as faithfully as they had served his father before him. Their patronizing attitude wasn’t helping him any but then again, the crew were all still treating him as their ‘young master’, just as they had when his father, Roni Fatima, was still around.

Stepping into the bridge, the young captain tried looking serious but it made him feel ridiculous instead so he just put his hands into the pockets of his jumpsuit and nonchalantly approached his seat. There were only a few men around, the rest probably taking advantage of their recent captives. Those present were either to old to get one up or not interested in that sort of carnal pleasures. Old Maison was busying himself with a feather-duster, cleaning the displays and keyboards. At the moment the bridge was peaceful, several hushed conversations going on here and there, computer beeps hardly present.

“Mister Croocq, could you please display our current account balance?” Fatima asked, settling into the hard seat.

“Yes, captain, just a moment,” came the response and after a few seconds several displays full of tables and numbers came up. “As you can see we’re receiving a considerable income from distributing pirated software. I guess Eridanian video games are appreciated everywhere and our giving them away almost for free nets us great profits. Our distributors constantly ask for new shipments. We estimate that our income from this side is twelve times the loss the Eridanian developer companies are suffering. Also, oddly enough, that shipment of porn movies featuring Manaan tentacle monsters we’ve nabbed several months back was finally bought by a collector from the Shukenja system. He was more than happy to pick it up and paid us handsomely. As far as other enterprises are concerned, I think we’re doing quite well. But I think we should look for another slave market to dump our captives to.”

“Oh? Why so, Mister Croocq?”

“We are unable to get good prices in our current spots. We’re filling the market in the nearest sectors quite often. Perhaps shipping slaves to farther systems would provide more lucrative in the long run?”

“What about transportation costs?”

“Well, I’m estimating that if we can get above average prices per transport and pick up some cheap goods there to be sold here for much more, we could turn into a completely new branch of commerce, if you get my drift, captain…”

“I see. Well, let’s see what we know about some of our neighboring sectors.”

“Yes, captain.”

It took them several hours to arrive at a satisfactory trading route and by the time they were done, Fatima’s head was already hurting and whenever he closed his eyes there were rows of numbers running left and right under his eyelids. Rubbing his forehead, he left the bridge and slowly walked to his cabin, yawning. With surprise he discovered that he was quite hungry but the thought was quickly overtaken by other feelings when he was Kaileena waiting for him at the entrance to his room. She changed her clothes and now she was wearing a red dress, or at least something that could have been a dress if it was made of more fabric. As such it seemed that all she was wearing were several long straps of red lace, two of which ran from her shoulders over her full breasts and to her waist where they were gathered by a wide belt; more red scarves dangled freely from the belt. It was hardly appropriate to call her clothed. He completely forgot he had told her to come over to discuss her release. Everyone knew very well what those discussions entailed.

“You look tired, captain,” Kaileena spoke with a seductive smile. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“I certainly hope so, Kaileena. Do come in. I desperately need a backrub.”

“I can do that.”

“I know. Dinner would be fine too. I’m famished.”

“I’m sure miss Sweetwater can have someone prepare something for you.”

“Smashing. Make yourself at home. Would you like some wine?”


After her ‘examination’, Kyla was forced into a series of showers, first to cleanse her, then perfumed and powered. She coughed and wheezed, fanning her face quickly to try and get rid of the god awful flowery smell. The captain had to be crazy if he thought this stench smelled good! She thought to herself and then was even more horrified as she was squeezed into ultra tight pants of that left NOTHING to the imagination and an equally tight top…she just blessed the heavens that a vest was also provided to cover at least her chest up. It was a bright green just as she had seen before, but thankfully because of her current position she wasn’t meant to wear any skirts or skimpy tops.

Outside of the interview room, Sweetwater was standing with a smug look on her made up face and handed Kyla a small piece of yellow paper. “This is your room number and you shall stay in it until it is time for your shift to start. Then you may go about your business, listening to the orders of your higher ups. Once your shift is over, you may go to the mess hall, eat your supper and then return to your quarters. If you wander off your designed locations, you will be punished as seen fit by the person who finds you.” She tapped a long thin finger against Kyla’s slender nose and gave her a slight smirk, “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you’ll figure things out.”

Kyla decided to keep her mouth shut after the turn of events in the examination room. It took ever ounce of her being though not to pop the bitch in the mouth and shut her up for good. Unfortunately this was something she again couldn’t do. Not until she found out if the late Captain was still about and then only when she knew she had a way out!

Ignoring Sweetwater, Kyla scanned the map with expert eyes and finally made her way to her quarters. Various people walked the halls. Some whistled and jeered her way, but she ignored that nasty taunts, walking as proudly as her stiff, ass hugging pants would let her and happily closed the door to her small room behind her.


In the end Kaileena turned out to be a disappointment as well, despite her being more than willing to please her captain and her obvious skills. He was feeling a little compassionate towards her because she spared no efforts to make him cum, starting with an expert blowjob and then a long session of sometimes wild and sometimes sensual lovemaking. Even her wondrous tits failed to do their duty, and Fatima spent more than enough time on them himself as they were truly exquisite and one prettier than the other. She even bore through anal sex even though it hurt her (she came that way too nonetheless). She pushed her own needs away and concentrated only on making him feel good and it was really wonderful while it lasted but in the end she was unable to make him reach the goal; one could say there was no scoring involved. Kaileena, on the other hand, scored more than once and quite hard too, passing out twice to Fatima’s great amusement.

It felt great to have his own harem of beautiful women but it sucked big time that none of them was capable of making him cum and forcing that big cock of his to spurt it’s white juice of fulfillment. Now, having cried herself to sleep, Kaileena was lying on her side with her back turned upon him, her black hair clung to her body, wet with sweat. He let her stay in the cabin until morning, fully aware that she knew what fate had in store for her now.

Ladies who failed him their bed duty were usually ransomed back to their families or, if the family was unable to buy their beloved daughter back, a woman would be left on an inhabited planet of her choosing other than her home world with enough food and equipment to survive for two weeks. They were left to fend for themselves. Of course, they also had an option to join the pirates and serve on their secret base as maids or cooks but few ever picked that option.

Kaileena, or rather the High Lady Kaileena, was in quite a fix because she was, or rather had been, the head of one of the noble houses of Beta Eridani, a rich landowner and an influential politician. Having been abducted from her own ship she had been probably declared dead or at least missing and now some other member of her family was wearing her morning slippers. She had little hope of her family or household ransoming her because no one probably wanted her back on her stool. Still, Fatima would at least contact the relatives of girls being relieved from their duties. It was the rule and his honor dictated it. It was none of his business though what would happen next. For the women’s sake he hoped the families would come through for their beloved daughters and sisters. And if not, The Sneezing Kraken will be making additional rounds around the galaxy. It was no big deal with their resource base.

Just as he was drifting off to sleep, an alarm blared over the inter-comm network, lighting red lights in all rooms and corridors.

“All hands to the battle stations!” Tenshi, the onboard AI chirped merrily. “Captain, do come to the bridge please.”

“What’s going on?” Kaileena turned on her back and was looking at him with apprehension.

“We’re probably under attack. Get dressed and go back to your room. Make sure Miss Sweetwater organizes additional nurse shifts just in case!” He was already dressed, donning only his jumpsuit and ignoring the undies. In a moment he was gone, running like crazy to see what the ruckus was all about.


Now what?! Kyla looked up from her map, contemplating how she would get past her sector to explore. The easiest way would be to find someone to mimic, then disguise herself. The red lights signaled a problem…were they under attack? The halls seemed strangely quiet, unlike the Lazy Susan and the attack on it, which left everyone running for their lives.

Sliding off her bed, Kyla slid on the boots she had removed and straightened her clothes before slipping out of her room. Standing in the hall against her door, she watched crew efficiently walking or running to their posts. Everyone looked determined…on a mission and everyone effectively ignored her, which surprised her to some degree. A flutter of hope in the pit of her belly made her smile slightly. The Fates had to be smiling on her!

Glancing around, Kyla slid a hand around to her neck and thanked the heavens again that no one had noticed her device. With a delicate touch, she fingered the small circular disk and watched as her skin turned to a dark, glossy shade of brown. Turning it up a notch, her hair became pitch black and eyes equally deep. A small gasp turned her attention sharply and she cursed softly. One of the girls had spotted her, her eyes wide and face pale. She couldn’t have been much older than Kyla and looked petrified. Slipped a finger to her lips, she signaled the chick to keep quiet. The girl nodded hastily, watching in wonder as Kyla slipped down the hallway and began to her search.

With every important personal out of the way, she grazed the walls silently, moving fluently and quietly. The dim lighting in the halls served her well, even with the flashing strobes. Blending into the shadows, Kyla slowly opened door after door to peer inside. Most of them contained prisoners such as herself, so she ventured up a deck. Plastered into a corner, she carefully surveyed the hall and found it empty. With a soft prayer, she ventured forward and slipped out, carefully hugging the cool walls as she searched the quarters. One particular door caught her attention…unlike the others, the one had an intricate gold symbol of a crown…not especially gaudy, but noticeable.

Her heart hammered loudly in her ears as she felt the thrill of possible victory! This had been too easy though. Nothing went this smoothly! Still, she moved swiftly and pressed her damp fingers against the cool steel of the door, pressing her ear to the door.

Not a sound was heard until her own yelp of surprise echoed down the hall as a strong hand grabbed the back of her suit and haled her up into the air. She flailed around with a gasp as she met the gaze of Randy, Sweetwater’s’ boy toy!

“Let me go!”

“I believe you’re out of your quarters little one.” He purred silkily, his eyes sliding over her curves as his mouth curved into a smile. He looked surprisingly human for an instant.

“Randy?” She asked quickly, suddenly unsure.

“Correct. Now…yours?”

“My what?”

Randy rolled his eyes and let out a strangely husky chuckle, yet it held a hint of mechanics to it. “Name, little one. Your name.”


“Mmmmm…doesn’t compute Myra…were you missed in the shuffle? Or perhaps you’re in the slave quarters, waiting to be shipped out, hmmmm…were you searching for the Captain?”

She nodded as he slowly moved, grabbing her hips and pushing her up against the hall, his body sliding over hers. “Couldn’t wait your turn, little one. Wanted to Captain to plow between your thighs next?” He taunted, making her wonder what sort of robot he actually was!? Never had she met one that had such skills and possessed almost his own personality.

“N-no…I was going to beg for my release!” She lied, shoving against his broad chest as he rubbed his hips against hers.

“Really now…Mmmm…well, perhaps I could be of service? I like to please the ladies and make them feel less…homesick.”

“No!” She replied, shoving harder as Randy leaned down to nibble on her neck.

“You are quiet exquisite, little one…very exotic.” He purred and stroked a hand up to her breast, pinning her efficiently enough to against the wall as he fondled her body.

“Get off!” She growled, but the heap of metal didn’t budge. “Off! Sit! Heel! GET THE FU- – -!!”

Just then another voice interrupted her angry ones. “Randy off!”

Suddenly the sex fiend of a robot let loose, stood straight and shut down. With a grunt, she landed squarely on her ass and at the man approaching. Quickly she scrambled up to her feet as the smaller, older man made his way to her. “Hey! You there! Stop!”

Turning about she fled, running for the lifts that had gotten her up and rapidly making her way back down to her hall where she fumbled to right her appearance. Slowly she returned to her other disguised form and brushed herself off before trying to appear as casual as possible.


As soon as captain B. Fatima entered The Sneezing Kraken’s bridge he got a terrible headache. Most of the console lights were blinking, relaying various messages and speakers were constantly beeping with alarms and various information. Tenshi, in her holographic representation of a winged fairy, was flying all over the room and circled around the crewmembers’ heads singing merrily or wailing like banshee. The air was filled with her “Wooo, we’re under attack!” and “We’re doomed, we’re all going to die! What fun!” Noticing him, the blue-white sprite flew around him several times and perched on his shoulder, whispering conspiratorially into his ear, “I think they are all angry with me.”

Fatima looked around and his headache worsened. The tension made the air so still it could be cut with a knife, perspiration glistened on the people’s foreheads, some were biting their fingernails while watching the radar displays or ITTC monitors. Everyone was nervous which in turn made their captain a little afraid. His crew never behaved in this manner. The situation must have indeed been serious.

“Status report!” Fatima called and went through the tedious routine of finding a comfortable position in the captain’s seat.

“It seems that ship’s escort caught up with us, captain,” the first mate answered. His name was so hard to pronounce that Fatima could never remember it.

“What escort?! There was no escort!”

“That’s what I’m saying, captain. They caught up. Probably got delayed somewhere,” the officer shrugged. “We’re dealing with two corvettes, eight wings of Saracen heavy fighters and two wings of Sweeper bombers.”

“Scramble our fighters then and blow them out of space. What’s the problem? Our equipment is superior and we can jam their targeting systems from here.”

“Problem is, captain, we don’t have any. We got rid of fighter bays to increase our cargo capacity.”

“What?! Who’s idea was that? Bind him and throw him out the airlock!” Fatima got annoyed. His headache just got even worse and he felt cold sweat breaking on his brow. They could take care of the corvettes but the smaller craft could pose a serious problem even for their high-tech flak systems.

“Um, it was your idea, captain…” someone dared speak the truth.

“Was it?” the B. Fatima shifted in his seat. “Scratch that order then… Any suggestions, men?”

“In such situations your father usually asked for a cup of tea, Young Master,” Old Maison appeared out of nowhere next to his elbow. “And then he proceeded to issue an all-out attack order. For some reason it always worked.”

“Very well. Men! Power up the shields and weapons and give them all we have… We can see how the new toy works too! That will show them,” Fatima ordered enthusiastically. The new toy was a set of very powerful mass-driver cannons the Kraken had stolen several weeks back from an Eridanian convoy.

“Woohoo! Rowdy is being randy!” Tenshi sang, flying around the bridge with immense speed. “Or was it the other way round?”

“Tenshi, do perch somewhere, you’re being a nuisance. Don’t make me switch you off,” Fatima growled. “Fire at will. Spread salvo. Full power.”

Pouting, the little white-blue fairy sat on one of the monitors and waved at the firing officer. He quickly keyed in the attack configuration and issued a fire command. Immediately the lights dimmed for a while as the forward cannons spewed forth a cone of super-fast, super-heavy particles changing everything in front of the Kraken into metallic Swiss cheese. All Eridanian ships exploded seconds later to everyone’s surprise.

“These new cannon be sum good shit, mon!” someone whispered in awe.

“Well then. That was fast,” Fatima muttered, getting up and glaring at his men. “Good work everyone!” he said for lack of anything better, slightly disillusioned that it went so easy. “We’re heading home, gentlemen. Take care of everything.”

With a sigh he left the bridge and fumbled in his pocket to find a communicator. “Miss Sweetwater, please send me some painkillers. My head is killing me.”


Inside her quarters, Kyla sighed in relief. That had been too close! Usually she wasn’t so sloppy, but the thrill…the sheer desire to find the man she was after had rushed to her head and left her weak. Memories rushed back to her mind as she closed her eyes and lay back on her bunk. A young man’s cocky, but charming smile flashed in her mind as if had just been yesterday. His laughter had always made her feel warm and loved.

“Kyla Banana!” Danny’s voice rang clearly and excitedly. “Where aaaaareee you!?!?”

From behind the bright orange sofa, Kyla smothered a giggle, crawling on all fours to peak around the corner as her brother searched.

“Come on Beany! When I find you, the war is on! You can’t dump ice down my shorts and get away with it!”

She grinned and gasped back a giggle, drawing his attention.

“Ah ha! Marco!”

“POLO!” She shouted back and jumped up with a shriek as he came racing toward her. “Danny no!!! NO NO!! Don’t do it!”

Her brother laughed merrily and cornered her, crowding her with his tall, slender frame and mercilessly beginning his tickle attack on her ribs. She giggled and shrieked some more, her laughter turning into gasps and soft snorts as she tried to catch her breath. “Stop!” She panted, tears running down her soft cheeks, “Stop or you’ll make me pee!” She pleaded, pressing her thighs together and bending at the hips to try and get away.

With a cheeky grin, he pulled her into a bear hug and chuckled, “Serves you right. You know, for an older sister, you sure are immature sometimes.”

Kyla smiled fondly and sighed. Danny’s carefree attitude towards life left her wanting to protect him, watch over him as he challenged the world in his own way. He was reckless and too sure of himself, but Kyla loved her little brother as a mother would her own child. Only now he was gone and dead. Following in her footsteps, but against her wishes, Danny became a fighter pilot. On a simple escort mission, the pirates of the Sneezing Kraken had blown him away and all that stood in their path. Her sweet younger brother vaporized…space dust and no longer around to make her laugh and smile the only way he could.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Kyla squeezed back the tears and ordered herself to stop being such a wimp. She had to buck up and seek the former Captain of the ship and draw his blood in revenge!

Clenching her fists, she turned and tucked them under her chin and let herself drift off to sleep


Captain’s log, Fatima began typing on the keyboard of his diary and cringed because another jolt of pain stabbed through his skull. The painkillers he had ordered from Miss Sweetwater still have not arrived and he was considering going there to pick something up himself. Date, yadda yadda, who the hell cares. No one’s gonna read this stuff anyway so why bother?

Today was a good day! First we struck another glorious blow against the hateful Eridanians, two blows, actually. First a big carrier, sacked, robbed, looted and then blown to pieces. We captured many people and selling them into slavery will net us lotsa dough. We still haven’t gone through the goods acquired but I’m guessing that half of it will be useless junk only Old Maison could find use for in his endless improvements and inventions. Well, at least the babes were plentiful so another crew rotation will be done soon.

Speaking of which. Had two today. Both hot and eager and beautiful. But both failures in the end too. I’m starting to think these headaches I’m getting aren’t caused by the lights on the bridge only. Curses! How long is this going to take until I can finally blow a glorious load inside some hot, tight pussy?! I bet Dad is laughing at me very hard now even as he’s boiling in hell. Very damn funny, ha ha ha! Goddamn space Gypsies! I’m starting to feel like a gigolo! It’s so embarrassing. To please all these babes plenty, listen to them scream as they come again and again and all I get in return is money when their families are willing to pay. I must be the most miserable pirate in the whole universe…

“Enter,” Fatima groaned when the doorbell chirped a silly, high-pitched melody. The door slid open and a girl carrying a tray stepped in.

“Miss Sweetwater told me to bring this to you, captain,” she spoke softly as she put the tray on his desk. Hungrily, Fatima swallowed three pills and chased them down with some water. At least now there was a promise of a relief at least in one department. “Can I do something else for you, captain?” she asked, bending over and putting a hand on his shoulder, at the same time giving him a perfect view of her cleavage. Almost immediately he felt his cock hardening against his wishes. He was in no mood for another shag.

“No, some other time perhaps,” he waved her away with a sigh. Most men in the galaxy would probably call him crazy if they knew what he had just done. But then again hardly anyone knew about his predicament. “Thank you.”

The girl left him, leaving behind a faint scent of her perfume and a guilty feeling in his heart. Sighing, Fatima closed his diary and shambled to his bunk, falling on it in his clothes. He wanted his torment to end, he wanted to enjoy life and women once more and he wanted peace and not the turmoil of a pirate’s life. Biting the pillow in frustration he growled and closed his eyes. Little did he know that soon his blue balls would be the least of his problems.


The next day woke Kyla up with an annoying buzzing sound that could drive the sanest person mad! Groaning, she covered her ears and barked that she was awake. The noise died instantly. Stretching, she rubbed her tired eyes and stood. The small bathroom area provided her with only the essentials. A toilet, sink and shower, all shiny and sterile. The cramped space allowed for little movement, but she managed to strip down, wash up and then cram herself into fresh clothing, conveniently appearing inside her cabin.

After a quick tweak of her chameleon device and finagling her hair back so that it was secured and hiding the small disk, Kyla set out of her room. Outside, a small flying robot resembling an insect buzzed up to her face. She jerked back and then sighed with irritation as it dropped down a translucent screen and began to spout off orders and directions for her day. She would be allowed to eat in the mess hall first, following the others in an orderly fashion and then beginning the work day.

The line of girls formed in the hallway and Miss Sweetwater appeared to lead the way, making sure no one stood out of order or made any silly attempts to escape. Kyla wanted to laugh…after all, where would most of them go? None, she imagined, had any technical training or combat skills that could aid them. They were all petite, pretty, full breasted women ready for the Captain’s beck and call. Their soul purpose, she figured, would be to please him and then be chucked aside. Only Sweetwater had another thing coming if she thought Kyla would stand around looking dainty and submissive. The whole trip was beginning to grate on her nerves.

Soft chatter among the girls broke out as they hit the mess hall. Breakfast was served quickly and efficiently before they were shuttled to their designated spots. Shoved into a corner, Kyla had no choice but to listen to their conversations…most of which involved the Captain.

“I heard he is the greatest lover in the galaxy!” One girl giggled while the other snickered and bowed their heads.

“The greatest lover who is well endowed!” The girl before her added with a knowing grin. “The last girl to be hailed to his quarters said she fainted from it all. He MUST be skilled.”

She couldn’t quite believe her ears. These women were concerned about that man’s cock and not their lives!?! Shaking her head, she shoveled in a mouthful of eggs and tried to tune them out. How ridiculous could females be?! She wondered to herself and absently realized that the girl sitting across from her wasn’t joining into the conversation. Instead she looked rather pale and skittish. The same one, Kyla realized, that had seen her making her prowl earlier.

“Not interested in the Captain’s family jewels?” Kyla asked her, keeping her voice low enough that only she would catch the conversation.

The girl looked up from her tray and shook her head. The idea seemed to make her look a little green around the gills. “Virgin?” Kyla asked boldly and the girl flushed, but nodded.

“Ah.” She mumbled and sighed, nodding herself.

“I’m betrothed and was on my way to be married. Now I will never meet my husband and…” Her voice faltered and cracked.

Kyla felt instant discomfort. She had never been any good with showing comfort for others, except Danny. Women she wasn’t very familiar with. In training, she was surrounded by men and weakness was frowned upon.

“It’ll be okay.” She offered. “Maybe you won’t be chosen…or something will change for the good. Just…” She struggled for the words. “stay low. Don’t attract attention to yourself.”

“Thanks.” She whispered back and bowed her head back down. Kyla groaned internally. She truly felt some sympathy for the girl, but right now was not the time to take on a new project.

Robust laughter filled the air suddenly as the men began to filter through for their own meals. Kyla finished off her plate quickly and hoped that Sweetwater would bring her leather clad ass around to start handing out duties.


Strangely enough, B. Fatima woke up refreshed and rested even though he slept in his clothes, now sweaty and rumpled. Brushing sleep away from his eyes, the captain of The Sneezing Kraken got up and moved to his private bathroom. Very few cabins on the ship had their own bathrooms and his was obviously the privileged one. He took his jumpsuit off and naked stepped into the shower stall, letting hot and cold water relax and wake him up completely in turn. Sputtering he rubbed his body with a fresh towel, trying hard to coax some warmth into his shivering limbs. Closing his one good eye, Fatima removed the eye-patch from his head – he hated looking at the ugly purple gash running diagonally from the left temple towards his nose. As usual he had to spend a dozen or so minutes getting his hair into order and as usual in the end he gathered it in a neat ponytail. Finally done he put a fresh eye-patch on and left the bathroom.

As he opened his wardrobe a dilemma presented itself: what to wear? He scratched an itching spot on his hip and browsed his available clothing, finally settling for tight, navy blue trousers, a simple red t-shirt and a black leather coat. He had to look presentable upon arrival. Deciding to leave the bed for one of the girls to make, the captain sat at his desk and switched his personal computer on. Several keystrokes brought up the ship summary. He nodded his head several times, everything seemed in order and the should arrive at the base by lunchtime. Thinking of food made his stomach growl, reminding him how terribly hungry he was. With all those women he wasn’t sure if he was eating enough to give him enough strength to go on.

Fatima left his cabin at a brisk pace and made his way to the mess hall where a part of the crew were already eating. As usual the smell of eggs and bacon and orange juice were mixing with a hubbub of conversations. With a quick hand gesture he ordered one of his men who was about to announce his presence to sit down and he made his way to his table. Of course, he had to share it with the highest ranking officers, which was one of many unpleasant traits of being the captain but it gave him the opportunity to get to know what was going on without actually visiting the bridge. This morning, however, the table was empty save for Old Maison pedantically arranging the kerchiefs and cutlery around his plate.

Of course he couldn’t deny himself the pleasure of casting several lingering glances towards the spot where his personal entourage of girls was seated and caught more than enough interested glances from them and more than enough avoiding meeting his gaze. He was feeling so good this morning that he wasn’t about to let this guilty feeling get to him and when Miss Sweetwater passed him, carrying her big notepad as usual, he couldn’t help himself pinching her bottom which in turn caused a cascade of laughter when she whirled upon him and smacked him on the head with her papers before she even recognized who it was that harassed her fanny.

“Oh my, I’m sorry, captain…” she stammered an apology looking redder and redder.

“Think nothing of it, Miss Sweetwater,” he said with a grin. He knew that Old Maison would give her one of his polite tongue-lashings quite soon and they made people wish they had been whipped. “We’re arriving at the base soon so you can cut the girls some slack,” he spoke loud enough for the girls to overhear and soon the news was passed from mouth to mouth generating some excitement. “Just have someone clean up my cabin as usual, will you?”

“O-of course, captain.”

“There. Thank you, love,” he smiled at her and kissed her cheek loudly making her blush even more.

Stretching his arms to the sides and listening to his back crack Fatima went to his table and let Old Maison help him with the chair. The old butler was clearly disgusted, casting disparaging glances at Miss Sweetwater. “I dare say, Young Master, you’re looking plenty gay this morning. May I ask if your… ailment… has been remedied? This old man would wish nothing else.”

“Did you just call me a faggot, Old Maison?” Fatima looked up, trying to judge what his butler meant.

“I meant gay as in merry, Young Master,” Maison replied, his expression stony, displaying eternal patience. “I’d never allow myself to insult my master. If you ever feel dissatisfied with my service, Young Master, do not hesitate to sack me.”

“I sure hope not!” the captain muttered. “Now, breakfast, please!” he rubbed his hands together.

“Right away, Young Master.”


Kyla had caught sight of Fatima as he entered the mess hall and watched him with unabashed curiosity. The girls ooohed and ahhed over him, sighing and giggling and exchanging more information that she cared to hear about. It was all lewd and a little disturbing. It seemed as though none of them cared to keep their panties on around the man and it disgusted Kyla that they had to be so obvious and needy.

Letting the other girls boost up his ego, Kyla just sat back and watched him smack a noisy kiss on Sweetwater’s cheek. The old broad seemed to like that! Kyla felt her stomach churn, trying not to gag at the scene he was creating. She had to give him one thing though. He did have looks and a charismatic charm that most would kill for. Even with the ugly eye patch covering his one eye, his looks were still appealing to normal society. Tall, golden, with a sharp intelligence sparkling in his one green eye. His body lean and powerful. She wondered if he knew how to fight or if he was just all for show. She knew they crew was skilled, but was he? She supposed she would find out soon enough when she had to deal with being his ‘cabin wench’.

“Okay ladies!” Sweetwater’s voice pierced through her wandering thoughts. “Here are your duties. We’ll be stationed soon, so things will be a little different. But we still have to keep this ship clean, so lets get a move on.

Barking off orders and handing them out at the same time, Sweetwater finally reached her. “You have the Captain’s quarters. No time like the present to start your training. Now go…what little you have to do can be done quickly and then you will all be free for a little while to do as you wish.”

Biting back a groan, Kyla stood with her orders in hand. This time the small digital screen gave her a map to the Captain’s quarters and a list of instructions on what needed to be cleaned. Girls filtered out, chattering and laughing, rushing to get their tasks done. Kyla moved to her destination, sighing in dismay when she realized her earlier venture had led her to this cabin and not to the man she wanted to find.

Using the digital key provided, Kyla stepped into the room and paused. Her eyes scanned the room, somewhat surprised at his rich taste. Although not gaudy, the room was filled with warm dark colors. The primary piece of furniture sticking out was a bed…an actual bed! Not a bunk, but one carved of beautiful wood, stained dark. Approaching the rumpled mess, Kyla left her orders on his matching night table, running her hands over the smooth woodwork before finally getting down to business.

Grabbing a handful of satin sheets, she gave them all a firm tug and watch as the material just slip off the large mattress. It was almost too obvious…the red silk pillows, the black silk sheets, the smell of sex…or something, lingering in the air. She was almost afraid to touch the sheets too much. Didn’t even want to think of what might be on them.

Blocking out her thoughts for a while, Kyla began to work mechanically. Sheets were disposed of and new ones placed on his bed, neatly smoothed and tucked. The plush carpet under her feet was vacuumed and his shelves dusted. Now and again, she found tidbits that caught her interest, but for the most part, his room was just that.

With the main area and bulk of her work done, Kyla stepped into his bathroom and wrinkled her nose. Why did men have to be so nasty? She wondered to herself. Dirty clothes lay in piles by the shower. The sink was a mess of toothpaste and soap and the toilet…she peered carefully at…was actually okay. Thank heavens!


Grumbling to himself Fatima finished his breakfast and got up from the table. He could never understand why the morning meals had to be so small. First it had been his nanny and now Old Maison was regulating the amount of food on his plates. The captain was always growing faster than other boys so he had been reasoning that by analogy he should be eating more. However, ever since he could remember his breakfasts consisted a small bowl of cereal, two stripes of bacon, one egg, and a glass of juice. Truth be told those could hardly be called a meal as they left him even more hungry than before. He insisted that his breakfasts are at least doubled because he was usually forgetting to have his lunch and wandered around with his stomach grumbling for food. To no avail. At least for dinner he was able to eat as much as he wanted but it was not able of compensating him for the trauma of a small breakfast. He will probably have to sneak into the kitchen and steal something away. Life of a pirate captain sucked big time, he had decided long ago. What kind of a captain was he that he had to obey others!?

Casting a longing glance towards the kitchen door, Fatima left the mess hall and for a moment pondered what to do. The ship would dock at their base in a few hours and until then there would be nothing particular to do and unless Old Maison finds him to drag him away for fencing practice perhaps he could read a book or write in his diary. With this resolution in his head he returned to his quarters walking confidently, trying not to look like a truant. As he opened the door to his cabin a strange scent hit his nostrils and for a second he was standing in the doorway trying to recognize it. Then he heard a hissing noise coming from somewhere within. This isn’t my room! the thought occurred to him but then again he would never mistake someone else’s quarters for his own… unless they belonged to some pretty girl, of course. But the desk and the shelves opposite the door were his so he entered the room and let the door slide close behind his back.

He sniffed the air once more, trying to recognize the elusive scent. He was sure he had smelled it in the past but could not pinpoint either the place or the time. Then the door to his bathroom opened and a petite woman stepped out holding a long, thin canister of spray in her hand. Of course! he slapped himself mentally, it was his favorite lavender air freshener that he considered lost forever. She had either found it lying somewhere or just brought a new one. Fatima recognized the girl as one of the new captives from the last ship The Sneezing Kraken hit. What was her name again?

“What do you think you’re doing, Mina?” he asked, startling the girl and making her assume a defensive stance and hold the spray canister in front of her as a weapon. Nice reflexes, he thought.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she retorted with a frown. “And it’s Kyla!”

For a moment he could only blink in surprise. It had been a while since someone dared speak to him like that and he couldn’t remember what happened to that person, or how to react now for that matter. “Right,” he grinned, trying to cover the embarrassment over committing such a terrible faux pas. She seemed to relax a little but still held her position, discontinuing her previous activity. “I’m sorry. It’s hard to remember all the names…” he trailed off and waved his hand in the direction of the ship’s interior and noticed her frown deepen.

“I’m all done here,” she started, putting the can away on the night stand and making for the door. “So, if it’s alright…” she nodded at him and tried to pass by but he grabbed her by the elbow and stopped her. She tensed and glared first at his hand holding her and then at his face as if expecting to make him let her go. In his line of work he had had to tackle more queen bitches than he cared to remember so angry glances no longer worked on him.

“Where’s the hurry? We’re docking soon so it’s not like you have anything else to do.”

“Sweetwater will have my ass if I’m late,” Kyla tried making an excuse.

“You can tell her I stopped you. After all you girls work under me…” he stopped, realizing how that could be read, and she was new after all, probably not used to the order of things on the ship. But she looked great in the skimpy uniform and her suntanned skin was very pleasant to look at.

“Look, captain,” she turned to him and put a small hand on her hip trying to look serious but being much shorter than Fatima she looked rather comically. “I didn’t ask to be enlisted in your personal harem so get your hands off me before I do something I’m going to regret!”

“Whoa, chill out, you’re too tense!” with his right hand he reached towards his desk and flipped his chair around, pulling it closer at the same time and with his left he spun Kyla in place and pushed her to sit in it. She plopped on the seat and opened her mouth in surprise before she realized it. Fatima couldn’t help himself following the lines of her smooth thighs up towards her hips. Lovely, he though and with a smile sat cross-legged on his desk. “Now, tell me why do you hate men so much.”


Kyla glared at Fatima. Even from their positions now, she had to look up at him and it was giving her a crick in her neck. Blast him! Why couldn’t he have waited a few more minutes for her to leave! He was arrogant and totally unperturbed by her attitude towards him. Instead he seemed to somehow enjoy the little game of cat and mouse…even though she wasn’t truly playing. She didn’t care to stick around to succumb to his charms.

“I don’t hate men.” She told him, standing up so she didn’t feel so crowded by his presence. He let her go this time and watched her take a few steps forward, then turn to face him again.

He slapped a well muscled thigh and flashed her another bright smile. “Well that’s good to hear! For a second there, you had me worried that you were into the fairer sex.”

Despite herself, Kyla felt her face heat up. “You would think such a thing just because I don’t fall to your feet and beg to be taken.” She huffed, crossing her arms and tapping a foot in annoyance. “Not everyone, Captain, falls for big hulking men with charming smiles that like to play pirate.”

“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows in interest, leaning forward a little. “So you find me charming?”

Kyla rolled her eyes, “Must you twist everything around? For your information, Captain, I find you arrogant, manipulating and a whore in every sense of the word. It’s disgusting how you parade women in and out of this room. I feel like I need to be sanitized since I touched your bed.”

His one green eye darkened and narrowed slightly, indicating that she had hit a nerve. However, Kyla was far too irritated to care…even if it would get her into trouble. This mornings conversation only fueled her desire to beat the living snot out of this man until he acted sensibly and not like an ape!

“I’m not a man,” she continued, watching as his gaze shifted to slip down her body, further fueling her anger, “so perhaps I don’t understand the need to want to rut around like dogs all the time. But perhaps I can suggest something. Maybe keeping your dick in your pants might put a different perspective on things. You should try it sometime!”

Fuming and ready to rip his perfectly quaffed hair out of his stubborn head, Kyla spun away and made haste to leave. The door hissed open and then closed behind her. Sweetwater stood right outside, her arms crossed and a furious look on her face. Kyla grit her teeth and snarled slightly before leaving her behind as she made her way back to her quarters.


“Oooh, she’s got spunk!” Fatima laughed and rubbed his hands together, completely unmoved by Kyla’s angry words. For a second he dwelled on the sway of her hips when she was leaving his cabin, and sighing, jumped to the floor. Once in a while a difficult girl had to appear, a virgin, a wife or a betrothed girl that wouldn’t hear of sleeping with him, whatever the reason. It took a lot of time before they finally agreed to spend a single night with the dreadful pirate captain. Some of them cried a lot and shut themselves away, hoping the terrible reality would just pass them by; others reacted violently, there were even instances of him being attacked by a girl. Sooner or later, however, each and every one of them ended up in his bed and very few were disappointed. But Fatima himself was always disappointed with them.

He put the chair back in its place and scratched his head, thinking how to kill the time remaining to docking and finally decided to do some reading. Old Maison always nagged him to continue his education because it’s not always the strongest who is the best leader, and being a pirate king required both strength of body and strength of mind, and a bit of cunning to boot. Therefore the old man was always bringing Fatima new books he should acquaint himself with. Those were a very eclectic bunch: from strategy and tactics treaties to classic literature and alien poetry to chemistry and astrophysics handbooks. The young captain could not deny that once he actually got down to reading, some of those volumes proved to be interesting indeed. He was usually too busy to just sit and read, though, or so he wanted to think because most of the time he was just looking for an excuse not to strain his one good eye.

Fatima ran a finger over the spines of some books standing on the shelf and pulled one out. It was thick and leather-bound, with golden letters spelling “Introduction to alien non-verbal communication – Volume 1 of 29.” The sheer size of the work overwhelmed him. There was no way in hell he would ever read or even remember at least a tenth of all the information contained inside. It was a very interesting read, however, and it was always important to know that one shouldn’t yawn in the presence of Kekossian hulkslugs because it was an open invitation to a duel or that the four-armed Baramans used the gesture known to humans as fuck you to express their joy when making acquaintances. Fatima once tried to find out what gesture expressed romantic interest in the body language of tentacled monsters from Manaan. He failed, not because he had no idea where to look but because the great work did not include that particular species. Nobody’s perfect, it seemed.

Just as Fatima assumed a reading position upon his freshly made bed the door to his cabin opened and Old Maison walked in. His face lit up in a deeply moved smile when he saw his young charge study hard. He straightened the jacket of his tuxedo and cleared his throat.

“Young Master, excuse me for interrupting your studies but I believe it is time for your fencing lessons.” To accentuate his words, Old Maison produced a golden watch and tapped its display.

“Oh come on, Old Maison, I just started reading. Besides, I’m not in the mood for that today.”

“And if a fire drake from Gamma Draconis tried to rip your stomach open to chew on your intestines would you tell him that you’re in no mood for that, too, Young Master? I think not. Now come, there will always be time for reading later.”

“I can barely move or think after your trainings,” Fatima groaned. “Not to mention reading.”

“If this old man can keep up with you youngsters then you are in no position to complain, Young Master. Besides, today I feel like taking a few swings as well.”

“I’m going to kick your arse from here into next light year, Old Maison,” Fatima cracked a nasty smile as he closed the book.

“If you say so, Young Master,” the old man said phlegmatically.


Kyla was still fuming as she stomped back to her room and kicked the stationary chair there, cursing when it didn’t give and stung her toes. “Arrogant, pompous bastard!” She muttered, sitting heavily onto her less than welcoming bed.

Fingers snagged in her hair as she carelessly ran her fingers through it. With a heavy sigh, Kyla began to undo the knot she had created earlier and let her mane fall free. She wanted to go. So far there was no sign of Roni. No word of him. Not a peep from any crew member or girl she had encountered. The only word was Fatima and his great cock. Rolling her eyes, Kyla sank back on her bed and wished she had her old flight suit. The clothes she wore were too tight, too skimpy and were starting to make her itch as they chaffed her sensitive skin.

Tears stung her eyes unexpectedly as she found herself thinking about Danny again. “What the hell is wrong with me?” She grumbled with a sniff. “I’ve become a big wimp.”

Rubbing her eyes, she slowly got up. There was no use in crying over the past…just focusing on sweet revenge. She knew it was careless, but Kyla was in no mood to mind. It was time she took some sort of action before they reached the base. It was time to do more than just a little exploration and with the help of her chameleon device…she would find out one way or another if Roni Fatima still lived.


Fatima slammed against the wall and air escaped from his lungs with an audible gasp. Opposite him Old Maison was just returning to the ready stance after having delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to his pupil’s midsection. The old man’s age belied both his dexterity and skills and despite Fatima’s being younger and considerably stronger he was the young man’s superior. Both men were fighting without their shirts, partially because their trainings were always strenuous and partially because the shielding devices they were both wearing had a very limited range, so much so that even the simplest of clothing could get in the way of the blue shimmer of personal force-fields, limiting their usefulness. The training rapiers they were using weren’t lethal but each hit registered as unpleasant numbness. Fatima suffered from this numbness twice as much as is instructor, and twice as often.

The young captain got back to his feet and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his forearm. With a swipe of his foot he lifted his dropped weapon from the floor and caught its handle, immediately assuming the proper defensive stance, seeing as Old Maison was already charging at him to deliver the next piece of punishment. Fatima parried the attack and before the old butler had the chance to attack again, he grabbed the instructor’s weapon hand in his left pulling and twisting it at an impossible angle. A merciless head-butt from his young ward stunned Old Maison and made him stagger backwards, shaking his head to clear the stars and galaxies circling before his eyes. Fatima wasn’t waiting for him to recover, though, and pressed with a flurry of lethal thrusts, causing Old Maison’s force field to explode in a kaleidoscope of red circles. No living being could survive such an onslaught, multiple piercing of internal organs was enough to drop even the hardiest of opponents. The rule for those sparrings, however, was that a point was scored not for “killing” but for “immobilizing” the opponent so Fatima was surprised not to hear a gong that announced his victory in the melee. Surely so many chest wounds would have “immobilized” even a charging bull.

Old Maison’s counter was so fast that the captain registered it only when he was already lying on the floor, the point of his tutor’s rapier touching his chest. “And you’re done for, Young Master,” the butler said, slapping the switch of his force-field, turning it off.

“What the hell?! Had this been a real fight you would only be good to serve as a sieve for Miss Sweetwater to prepare her herbal teas! Why the hell didn’t it register a point for me?”

“I warned you beforehand that killing your opponent is not the only way to win a fight, Young Master.” Old Maison helped Fatima up and collected his rapier. “Sometimes it’s more useful to capture your foe alive than to make Swiss cheese of him.”

“Yeah, and when some brute is waving a weapon at my face I should ponder whether to capture him alive or just kill him. You’re getting senile, you old fart!” Fatima was clearly annoyed. He was rarely able to score a point against his instructor and each subsequent defeat was coming to him as a personal insult. Especially so, since Old Maison was more than thrice his age.

“Your pardon, Young Master, but members of the nobility should not be found using such offensive vocabulary,” the old butler scolded the captain. “I am always telling you to fight with your head fist and your weapon second.” He rubbed the spot where Fatima’s forehead had met with his own. “Although it seems you are ever eager to twist my teachings. Your hot-headed nature isn’t helping you at all, Young Master. I have said it many times and I will say this again: keep your cool.” He allowed himself one of his rare smiles. “You have the strength and the dexterity and the technique but you lack patience. If you ever find yourself pitted against a weaker but more experienced warrior, I cannot guarantee your survival.”

“Now you’re starting to speak like my father,” Fatima grumbled but his anger was passing.

“I am? Oh my, I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to patronize, Young Master. Come now, I think we both earned a cup of Miss Sweetwater’s herbal tea. And do put your shirt back on, we wouldn’t like her to faint.”

“You do that too, you old coot, or one of my girls will take a liking to you and you may find yourself with more than you can handle,” Fatima laughed loudly, his voice echoing in the big training room.

“Young Master!” Old Maison exclaimed, blushing. “It’s ungentlemanly to speak of such things!”

“You’re no fun at all, Old Maison.”


A shadow crept along the walls of The Sneezing Kraken, peering into rooms worth exploring and shifting through the dimly lit corridors. The ship was fairly quiet, everyone preparing for their time on base and Kyla was glad for it. So far, her exploration about the ship had been uneventful. Still, she was determined and that determination paid off a little as she came across Fatima and an older gentleman sparing.

Twisting her body, Kyla made sure the halls were clear before creeping closer to watch the action through the glass doors. Carefully positioning herself away from the lights of the room, Kyla found herself studying both men as they parried back and forth. The older man was good. She was impressed by his agile moves and cool demeanor, suddenly itching to jump into the action. It reminded her of Danny and their time in training rooms together. She always beat him solidly, but he would laugh and get back up until they were both breathless, sore and aching to dip their bodies into the hot springs to sooth away the pain.

Kyla smiled fondly at the thought and unconsciously pressed a hand into the cool glass as she watched Fatima take on his opponent. His chest was bare, glistening with sweat as he moved his great body with surprising ease and agility. Unlike the older man, who was lean and fit, Fatima was cut, with noticeable muscle mass spread evenly throughout his arms, his tight abs and hard chest. Without realizing it, Kyla studied the way his muscles bunched and relaxed under the strain of his training. She slid her eyes over his board shoulders, enjoying the way his body moved so fluidly. As fit as Fatima apparently was, she could tell that the old man was wearing him down.

His rich laughter snapped her out of her dream state with a start. Kyla felt strangely lightheaded as she took in a trembling breath and scooted away, pressing her suddenly hot body against the cool wall. What was wrong with her?! Getting all hot and bothered over the oaf she swore would never ever lay a hand on her body.

Reaching up, her fingers toyed with the device behind her neck and rubbed her tense muscles. It had to be the strain, that had to be it.

A loud thud made her glance back inside and grin as Fatima lay at the mercy of his teacher. With a soft snicker, she turned and made her way to the bridge. Perhaps, if her lucky stars were shinning, she would be able to find out of some valuable information.


The servants’ lounge was filled with hushed conversations. The ship’s staff was slowly getting ready to disembark and with it came various preparations. Men and women were checking their regular clothes as there was no strict dress code in the pirates’ headquarters and everyone was allowed to dress as they pleased, providing they also wore special emblems that stated their post. That’s why the base was so different from the orderly Kraken, it was a mix of species, genders, colors and shapes. It was almost like a small city and newcomers were bound to get lost and find trouble if they stumbled into the wrong part at the wrong time. There was no way to enforce laws as strict as on ships and at times it proved somewhat difficult to root out the troublemakers. To the side several of the captain’s girls were doing a small fashion show, trying various garments on, hoping to decide what to wear soon. As usual it was taking forever.

Fatima cradled a steaming mug of fragrant tea in his hands, warming them to the point of burning, trying to see how much pain he could withstand. He was lost in thought as he tried to gauge what he had been doing wrong in his trainings. Under Old Maison’s watchful eye his brawling abilities had developed into skillful pugilism that, coupled with his strength and big frame, made him an opponent to be feared. His fencing skills, however, were a different cup of tea. His progress had been slow and the light rapier didn’t suit him, he would have preferred something heavier and more damaging but his tutor would always say that claymore swords and axes are no weapons for a gentleman. And so Fatima was stuck with rapiers and foils to choose from. Not much of a choice. He was a good shooter, though, and was not overwhelmed by multiple moving targets at the shooting range. Ambidextrous by nature, Fatima was even capable of using two pistols at once although with just one good eye he had trouble laying fire to his left side and had to remedy that by more moves. Overall, Old Maison was satisfied with that part of his training.

Out of the corner of his right eye Fatima watched his tutor sip his tea in silence. There was no sign of exertion on him and when they left the showers and dressed it seemed like Old Maison hadn’t even broken a sweat during their sparring, he was immediately back to his usual, phlegmatic self. Taking a long sip from his cup, Fatima envied the older man’s peace of mind and composure. It was true that the captain was rash and hot-headed; that was his usual demeanor. Now, however, he was starting to notice the advantages of keeping one’s wits about oneself. He doubted he would ever be capable of being as stoic and impassive as Old Maison. He was his father’s son after all, and the one thing Roni Fatima had been known in his own youth for was recklessness and an adventurous spirit. He had calmed down when he became king of Eridania. It was known from his birth that B. Fatima would follow in his father’s footsteps.

As he gulped down the final contents of his cup, his communicator broadcasted some static and the voice of his first mate said, “Captain, we’re almost at the base.”

Picking up the small device from his breast pocket, Fatima spoke, “Carry on with the docking procedure.”

“We cannot, captain, something is not right.”

“What do you mean not right?”

“I shouldn’t be talking over the comm, captain. You had best come to the bridge and see for yourself.”

“Very well, I’ll be there in a moment.” Feeling a small pang of anxiety stab him in the stomach, Fatima got up from his stool and made for the exit from the lounge, wondering what could have happened. The first mate sounded distressed if not scared. What could have happened at the base to have made him so?


The bridge was easiest to find by following officers that were heading all in the same direction. What was odd was the amount of men heading there, each chatting in low voices as if they were too afraid of being overheard. Straining to hear the conversations, Kyla caught bits and pieces. Their hails were not being answered by the base to confirm docking. All was quiet and unusually so. Kyla had seen this sort of situation many times in the past, and it usually lead to a sneak attack of sorts. A fairly clever, but old maneuver that left unsuspecting ships as floating debris.

Oh how she wished she still had her bag of tricks. There was only so much her chameleon device could do to keep her hidden. In this instance remaining in the shadows was her best bet, but now she was running out of options. Should she boldly walk on deck and check out the situation herself, damn the consequences… or go back to her quarters? Evidently there was no sign of Roni, and not one peep from anyone suggesting anything different.

Perched in the open doorway of the bridge, Kyla peered inside, leaning forward a bit to check out the interior. The Sneezing Kraken was definitely a ship to be wanted and fought over. She had to give the former captain respect for that much, even if she did loath his guts and would ultimately love to hear him scream in agony as she cut him into little morsels to be fed by some hungry hunting dogs. The thought actually made her smile a little before a great push sent her flying head on into the great room.

“What the…?” She heard Fatima begin as she moved to get back on her feet.

The room was suddenly silent as all eyes viewed the multicolored figure before them that was blending into the backgrounds.

“Chameleon!” One gruff voice shouted and a tall figure stood, drawing a gun.

“Seize it!!” Another called out and a mixture of men began to advance. Kyla took on a defensive stance, moving swiftly as the men tried to make a grab at her. One hard punch bloodied a fat man’s nose, making him yell and curse as the others growled and made a run to tackle her.

With a soft grunt, Kyla forced her punches to hit the men’s lower bellies, dodging their running attempts with knees to the gut and swift kicks to trip them up.

“For the love of God!! Catch the nuisance and be done with it!” Fatima bellowed, finding the whole situation ridiculous. “Must I do everything myself!?”

Long strides brought him up to Kyla in no time at all. She cried out in rage as he firmly pushed her back. No punches, no grabs, nothing could have prepared her for such a simple move. A simple move that sent her straight into tight, unrelenting arms that wrapped around her body, leaving her immobile.

The man behind her was tall and slender, but seemed to posses unbelievable strength. Her struggles immediately ended when she heard his voice.

“Okay now…it’s over. Stop struggling or I’ll have to put you out.” He said, his voice somewhat amused and yet irritated at the same time.

Kyla gasped and strained to look up at her captor. As she did so, the captain’s hands worked over her body to try and find the device making her so hard to identify.

“Danny?” she whispered urgently, her mind and heart racing with the sheer thought that her brother could be alive! “Please…Danny…is it you?”

Fatima’s hands stilled and tightened on her waste instantly. “Drop.” He commanded and instantly the man’s arms let go. Fatima pulled Kyla against his body, twisting her around to face the man who had just held her. “You know this man?”

Kyla looked up and gasped in shock. Her brother! Her sweet brother was there, standing before her and yet he was so different. Gone was the reckless long hair, replaced by a short cut. His eyes were sharper and bluer than she remembered, but the biggest different was prosthetic robotic arm that started at his shoulder and covered near half his body. “My god…Danny.”

His eyes narrowed as she gazed at the thing that was changing right before his gaze. “Who are you?”

Hysterical laughter burst past her lips as she sagged against Fatima. “It’s Kyla…your sister.”

Shock and disbelief filtered through his eyes. “Let go…let me go so I can show him!” Kyla suddenly pled, struggling against Fatima who was reluctant to let go. Instead his arms cinched under her arms, freeing them for use. Reaching up and under her hair, Kyla turned off her device completely. Gone was her tan and dark hair and eyes and the multicolored being that stood before him before. Danny studied her with wide eyes. Their blond hair matched and so did the eyes. Her face, which held a surprisingly innocent quality, with soft lips and finely shaped brows filled his head. “Kyla banana!” She laughed and reached for him, only to find herself crushed between brother and captain as Danny slid down to bear hug his sister.


Fatima reluctantly pulled away from the hugging siblings. Kyla’s body, though small, was firm and strong and very nice to the touch. He grinned inwardly, anxiously awaiting the moment he would have her in his bed, naked. He turned a scanned the bridge. All around he saw his men in various states of mutilation. Bloody noses, bleeding lips, ringing heads; some were gasping, trying to regain their breath and some clutched their groins, fighting the nausea. The captain shook his head. “Are you sure you’re fearsome pirates and not a bunch of sissies?” he said. “Look at yourself! Grownup men beaten senseless up by one small chit. Maybe I should start paying your pensions and enlist my girls as the crew, eh? You should be ashamed of yourselves! Geez!” He was on the verge of spitting but held himself in check because it was the bridge and he was the captain. Fatima turned to look at Kyla and Danny who were now looking at each other as if they were trying to gauge what had changed in them during the time they were apart. “You’re a dangerous one, Banana…” he said to the girl.

“Don’t call me that!” she glowered at him in response. “My name is Kyla!”

“If I say you’re Banana, then you’re Banana. Be thankful I don’t have you thrown out an airlock for attacking my men. You, laddie,” he looked at Danny who seemed only a bit younger than Fatima himself but there was still something boyish in his eyes. “You’re responsible for her from now on. She misbehaves and you both end up in a brig.”

“Hey, you cannot…!” Kyla started but Danny only squeezed her hand, interrupting her.

“Aye aye, captain,” Danny saluted with his mechanic arm.

“Good,” B. Fatima regarded the bridge once again. “So what’s the big deal, why was I called here.”

“The base isn’t responding to our hails, captain,” said the first mate, who’s name was so very hard to remember. “All communication is met with complete silence. It’s like the whole base is dead. Even the hull lights are off.”

Only now did Fatima notice the huge shape of their base outside the view ports. It was a humongous hulk of metal sticking out from an even bigger asteroid. Only about a third of the base proper was visible, with the rest hidden deep within the rock. It took more than ten years to establish, but now it was an impregnable fortress. It was surrounded by a dozen automated weapon platforms which attacked everything that failed an IFF check. More than twenty fighter wings were ready to be scrambled in case of an attack. Apart from typical laser turrets, the base was also protected by the latest model of stream cannons, capable of piercing the armor of the Behemoth-class star destroyers. Anyone who tried storming it would find his teeth slowly ripped one by one. But now it indeed looked dead, and Fatima felt a pang of concern.

“Have you tried light signals?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, captain.”

“Laser communication?”

“Yes, captain, no response either.”

“Signal flares?”

“We’re fresh out.”

“What do you mean, we’re fresh out? We hit a factory of signal flares two weeks ago!”

“Well, yes, we did.” The first mate flushed in embarrassment. “But there was a mistake in goods delivery and we sold them for a transport of ‘Alien species encyclopedia.’”

“So now we’re stuck with books?! What do you suggest? Should we perhaps make a kite and fly it outside?!” Fatima roared.

“I’m sorry captain. It was a mistake…”

“Please, spare me the excuses! Right now I’m concerned about the base. Have you scanned it yet?”

“No, captain, not yet.”

“So what are you waiting for? Drop the shields and proceed with a thorough scan. I want to know what happened and if there are any people inside who are still alive!”

“Aye aye, sir!”

The bridge exploded in a bustle of hurried activities. Soon the shield around the Kraken dispersed and blue rays of a long range scanner shot towards the base, licking it up and down, getting the required information. It was a slow process, and with each passing minute Fatima was shifting from anger to anxiety to mild annoyance. Finally, after ten minutes spent in complete silence, he said through clenched teeth, “Well?”

“It seems there was a major malfunction in the primary and secondary power grid, captain. Most sections are without electricity and life support. Apart from the weapon platforms all weapons are without power.”

“What about the people inside? Any survivors?” Fatima asked, feeling goose bumps of fear forming on his skin.

“It seems the third section has managed to retain life support but there are far too many people there for it to sustain them for an extended period of time.”

Fatima wasted no time on idle banter and analysis of the situation. With long strides he moved towards the exit and spoke as he walked. “Form boarding parties and assemble at the shuttles. Make sure the captives are locked in while we’re gone.” He stopped at the door and turned. “Banana, you’re coming with me.”

“It’s Kyla, dammit!”


Kyla didn’t want to leave Danny; she was still in shock and excited to have found him under such odd circumstances. Her baby brother was alive and well enough. She had so much to ask him, so many answers she wanted after all the time she had spent hating Roni and all that pirates stood for. Now her emotions were a jumbled mess and the captain had lost his mind if he thought she was going to allow him to keep calling her banana.

She watched as he turned to walk away, dismissing her curse and leaving her behind. He clearly thought she was to follow.

“Go, Kyla…I’ll be fine. We’ll catch up soon.” Danny said from behind, nudging her forward with his ‘good’ hand.

Turning slightly she smiled softly, her heart not aching as it used to, but still struggling with the anger and loss she had felt in the past. Blast the captain and his arrogance! With a sigh, she nodded and followed up behind the brute, quickening her steps to catch up.

Alone in the turbo lift, Kyla crossed her arms and ignored the captain’s gaze. “I believe you owe me an explanation,” he said smoothly.

She cocked a golden brown and turned slightly, “I don’t believe I do.”

His chuckle was deep, but held a hint of something else. A threat perhaps? “Oh…I believe you do…I don’t take too kindly to spies, Miss Banana.”


Lucy’s story

I remember the horror of that moment when we parted on the deck of the ship. I feared what might become of you, carted off in chains to who knows where. I also feared for myself now alone and in the hands of what we had already seen were a cruel and ruthless bunch of pirates. Later that day I too was escorted in chains from the ship but rather than being taken to the slave market I was forced to follow Abu Qadir and some of his men to his house on the outskirts of Algiers. It was a large and commodious white villa overlooking the sea but its entrance was guarded by two of the ruffians who served the pirate chief.

That evening the pirates drank and feasted seemingly celebrating their latest spoils. I sat at the table with Abu Qadir but was able to eat or drink but little dreading what might be coming next. Eventually Qadir left the table in a drunken state and dragged me alongside him to his bedroom. He ordered me to undress him which I did reluctantly and then ordered me to undress also and join him in his bed. I was reluctant to acceded to his request but he again threatened to throw me to the mercy of his men and I thought better of my refusal. Slowly I divested myself of my garments one by one until I was standing in nought save my drawers and chemise. Suddenly Quadir became enraged.

“Petite putaine! Do not pretend to be coy, you false virgin!” he roared.

At that he leapt of the bed and began to tear my clothes form my body. Having ripped my chemise to shreds he proceeded to clamp his mouth upon my breasts sucking and biting my tender nipples until they were most dreadfully bruised. Next He pulled my across his knee and drew down my drawers to my ankles. I felt most dreadfully exposed revealing my posterior and my sex to this cruel man. He began to fondle my buttocks in the most lascivious manner and then all of a sudden dealt a sharp blow to the one of the cheeks of my posterior. This was succeeded by further sharp slaps to both my buttocks and occasionally my thighs. I could feel my nether cheeks reddening and stinging quite horribly.

All of a sudden when I thought I could bear it no longer the knave ceased. I was suddenly horribly aware of the hardness of his male organ which was pushing up against my stomach as I bent across his knees. He pushed me back into a kneeling position so my face was poised just above his tumescent phallus. The long fleshy pole surmounted by its purple head was inches form my face. Without warning the knave pushed my head down so my lips care into contact with the engorged mushroom. I knew I had no choice and enveloped his throbbing member in my mouth. Once more I was forced to undergo the same awful humiliation I had endured on the ship. Once again I obediently bobbed my head up and down on Quadir’s raging pillar of flesh and he moaned in pleasure and finally deposited his liquid tribute at the back of my throat. I hated the acrid taste of his seed but obediently swallowed. The monster fell back on his bed and within minutes was asleep. Having nowhere else to rest I climbed into the part of the bed farthest from him and exhausted I soon also fell asleep.

The next day I awoke and Qadir had already left the house. A servant woman brought me fresh clothes and some breakfast. I was free to wander the house and its walled garden but the two ruffians guarding the entrance made it clear that I could go no further. In the late afternoon Abu Qadir returned. Suddenly he was all charm and offered me the gift of an exquisite little necklace which I intitally rejected knowing it was probably the loot of one his piratical adventures. However, eventually he prevailed upon me to wear it for him. During dinner, Qadir talked animatedly recounting his adventures in a most amusing way. For a while I forgot that the man was a violent murderer, robber and rapist and began to see him in the light in which he painted himself as a swashbuckling buccaneer of the high seas. He pressed more and more wine upon me and I soon became light headed, laughing and giggling at his anecdotes and giving no heed to the fact that I was in reality his prisoner and slave.

Eventually Abu Qadir announced that it was time that we went to bed. The violence of the night before was replaced by a new tenderness. He slowly removed my garments one by one. As he did so he feasted on my body gently kissing my neck and shoulders. Perhaps it was the wine or the sense of unreality at suddenly being transported into this strange world but I found myself unable to resist his advances. Soon I found myself lying naked upon his bed as he gently suckled on first one and then the other of my breasts. The sensation was quite exquisite and I could feel strange sensations of longing flickering in my loins. Perhaps it was a reaction to the dangers and excitements which I had recently passed through but I longed for someone to show me some tenderness and take me in their arms and here despite his previous callousness was this pirate doing exactly that.

Soon Qadir’s kisses moved down my body. His tongue nuzzling my stomach, his fingers lightly caressing my thighs and his lips kissing my hips. I felt a rising tide of excitement in me which I found hard to control. I knew I should resist but did not want to. I knew that in giving way to his wishes I was losing every last vestige of honour and virtue but I also knew that resistance was useless and would doubtless simply result in further violent treatment as I had seen the night before. Before long the decision was made for me for Abu’s mouth was gently brushing the hair of my sex then his tongue gently traced the line of my nether lips. I quivered in pleasure and anticipation. Suddenly he found the bud of my clitoris and gently circled it with his tongue. It was like an electric charge through me and I gasped with pleasure. His nimble tongue continued to manipulate my clit in the most delightful manner evaporating any last vestige of resistance to his advances the he was eagerly lapping at my sex, his tongue probing my orifice which was now dribbling with my feminine juices. I felt mounting waves of pleasure and knew that if he continued I would surely reach an intense climax. Suddenly he changed position and was on his knees between my legs. I could feel him positioning his organ at the mouth of my gushing sex, its bulging head pressed past my open lips and slowly thrust inward stretching my tight virgin pussy.

Although I had already broken my hymen due to our games with the hairbrush no man had yet penetrated that virgin channel and even though my natural lubricants were flowing freely it was with some difficulty that he succeeded in lodging his organ fully to its hilt in my tight orifice. He paused a while to allow me to accustom myself to his penetration. Once more his fingers fond my throbbing clit and I could not forebear from moaning softly as he stimulated that tender bud. I knew that what I was permitting was dreadfully wrong and I should at least offer some display of resistance but the waves of pleasure in my loins seemed to wash away any scruples I might have. Slowly Abu began to thrust inside me and although initially I felt a constriction in my love channel this quickly eased and I was able to take his thrusts with ease and rode the mounting waves of pleasure. This was akin to the delightful sensations which we had produced in one another in our own bedroom games but I have to confess of a much greater intensity. My whole inner being throbbed with ecstasy mounting towards a crescendo. My head was swimming with a floating feeling as Abu continued to hammer inside me. As I uttered a final cry of pleasure upon the peak of my climax I felt him relinquish a flood of his seed within me as he too grunted at his own release.

Afterwards I lay in his arms as he caressed me tenderly. I could not believe that this was the same monster who had ravished my companions and who had beaten me the night before.

“Ma cherie, you must tell me something and tell me truthfully,” said Abu. “You told me before that you were a virgin and I did not believe you. Tell me now the truth, have you

ever before been with a man?”

I was unsure how to respond. I sensed that Qadir would know if I did not tell the truth.

Technically I had been a virgin but I had also yielded my other virginity to Lord Okeleigh.

“I will tell you the truth Monsieur Qadir and I swear on my dead mother that this is the truth,” I replied. “I was once with a gentleman, though he scarcely deserves that appelation . He deceived me into thinking we were engaged to be married and then he pressed me to commit an act of intimacy with him. But I swear that he did not take my virginity from me, at least not what is conventionally considered a woman’s virginity.”

“So what was the nature of this act of intimacy?” asked Abu.

“I would rather not say, it is too shameful to repeat.” I replied evasively.

“Do not be so coy, mon petit chou, perhaps you allowed this gentleman access to an orifice other than your petit con,” he went on pressing me.

“Yes, I must confess though I a deeply ashamed of it,” I acknowledged.

“So perhaps you allowed this gentleman to t’enculer. How do you say in English, to bugger you, hein?”

My silence at this point made it clear that the answer to his question was affirmative.

“Ma cherie, there is no shame in this,” said Abu. ” I thought you a little putaine for losing your virginity but it is not so. In France many girls entertain their lovers by the porte arrière in order to preserve themselves for marriage. There is no shame in this.”

I was shocked at his logic but relieved that he thought no worse of me. Suddenly it struck me that I had yielded my virginity to him in exactly the manner that he had previously condemned.

“But Monsieur Qadir, you do not think worse of me because I yielded myself to you tonight,” I asked.

“Ma cherie, you are now a pirate’s wife. Next time we sail I shall marry us on the deck of my ship and we shall be legally tied,” he replied.

The thought that I should be forced to marry a pirate now filled me with horror and dread and I suddenly realised that in giving in to his advances I had perhaps offered Abu Qadir a false impression of my true feelings. I was suddenly filled with shame and remorse at my own weakness. I wondered what you would have done in the same situation and resolved that I could not continue to allow myself to be controlled by events. In short I decided that at the first opportunity I would escape or lose my life in the attempt.

It was not long before an opportunity presented itself. The next day Abu Qadir announced that a his intelligence revealed that a valuable prize would soon be passing close to the Barbary coast. He planned to assault this ship and take its cargo for himself. Although women were not normally taken in such voyages he thought that as his future bride I should accompany him.

Later that day we made our way back to the harbour and this time I was taken aboard Abu Qadir’s own ship. I was shown his cabin and instructed to make myself comfortable. I became bored and restless waiting for the crew to provision the ship and was forced to wait in the cramped and airless quarters below. Abu Qadir shared a simple meal with me in the early evening and announced that he had to go ashore to conduct some business. The winds were not favourable and the ship would not be able to set sail until at least the next day.

That night the crew availed themselves of large amounts of alcohol. Although as Muslims this was supposedly forbidden it did not seem to deter this band of ruffians and by late evening most of them were asleep or singing rowdy songs in their quarters. It was then that I resolved to make my attempt to escape. I had already searched Qadir’s cabin and found a large chest of men’s clothes. I now fitted myself out with some of them. They were a little large for me but I thanked my maker that I was tall and slim. With some scissors I was able to hack off my long hair and to complete my outfit I found a large felt hat which could be pulled down to cover my face. Once thus attired I slipped down the companionway and gingerly crept up the ladder to the deck. There appeared to be only two sailors on lookout and they were drinking from a bottle and talking to one another in slurred tones. Fortunately the two lookouts were at the far end of the ship from my position in the stern. I crept onto the after deck and looked around. The ship was moored some two hundred yards from the shore and I noticed a small boat tied up below. Carefully I lowered myself over the side and began to climb down some netting to reach the boat. The pair of sea boots which were several sizes too big for me did not help but at last I reached the boat and cast off.

The sound of the oars in the rowlocks sounded dreadfully loud to me as I carefully tried to row towards the shore. My heart was in my mouth but no challenge came forth from the darkened ship’s deck. I had little practice in the art of rowing but by degrees I was able to slowly propel the small craft to the shore and at last tied up and slunk my way up a flight of stone stairs. The harbour was dark and quiet at that time of night and I carefully made my way along the quayside wondering what I should do next. I passed several ships tied up along the dockside and kept my head down and my hat pulled down over my face.

Suddenly to my surprise I heard someone conversing in my mother tongue of Italian. I looked up and two presumably Italian seamen were disputing over something at the foot of a ships’ gangway. I found it hard to understand everything which passed between them as they spoke in a thick dialect which was unfamiliar to me. At that moment a plan formed in my mind and I approached the two men.

“Excuse me gentlemen, are you Italian?” I said in my deepest gruffest voice.

“Not Italian but Sicilian,” said one of them proudly.

“And you work on this ship?” I said indicating the vessel alongside.

“Yes, we work for Captain Palozzi,” they replied.

“Does Captain Palozzi need any extra men?” I asked.

“Well you are hardly a man,” said one of the seamen laughing, “but now I think about it our cabin boy died of fever on the voyage out, God bless him, so Palozzi might be interested in taking you on.”

Moments later I was being led up the gangplank for an interview with Captain Palozzi. The Captain was a villainous looking fellow with long greasy black hair and a full black beard; far more the image of a pirate than Abu Qadir. He looked me up and down suspiciously as he sat at a table in his saloon drinking a bottle of wine.

“So you want to sign on with us boy,” he said in the same thick Sicilian dialect as his crewmen.

“Yes Sir, I wish to work my passage to any European port,” I replied.

“So what brings you to Algiers?” he said narrowing his eyes and looking at me closely.

I kept my head down and hoped that my large hat and the gloom of the cabin lit by a single lamp would conceal my features.

“My last captain, he was a bad man. I had to leave his ship in a hurry.” I said mumbling something which was at least close to the truth.

“You will need to cook and wash my clothes, see to all my needs. The ship’s cook’s food tastes like shit, so the cabib boy usually prepares mine. Can you do that boy?”

“Yes sir. I am a good cook. I can even sew and mend if necessary,” I said.

“Well if you shirk from hard work with me you will get lashed. You can work your passage as my cabin boy and leave the ship at Palermo that’s our next port of call.”

“Thank you sir, I will work hard for you.”


In which Lucy learns the true price of her voyage

The seamen took me away and gave me something to eat. I had assumed that I would be required to sleep in the forecastle with the other sailors and began to wonder how easy it would be to conceal my sex from them living in such close quarters. However, when I had eaten one of the sailors told me that I would be sharing the captain’s quarters and I should report to him immediately. I mad my way aft and knocked on the captain’s door.

“I need you ready to serve me at all times,” said Palozzi, “so you will sleep here in the cabin with me.”

I noticed there was only one bunk. “Captain shall I sleep her on the floor?” I asked.

“No that will not be necessary. There is room in the bunk for both of us,” he replied. ” I just need to answer the call of nature. Get yourself ready and get into the bunk and I will join you soon. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

This filled me with trepidation. How hard it would be to conceal my true identity from the Captain if I were sleeping in the same bunk as him. I resolved to get in and pretend to be asleep with my back to him and hope that I could keep up my pretence until at least we were clear of Algiers. Then if necessary I would throw myself on his mercy. A few minutes later the Captain returned and to my horror began to remove some of his clothes. I remained motionless pretending to be asleep. Next Palozzi climbed in the bunk and to my horror lay down close to my back.

“Do not go to sleep boy,” said the Captain. “You have one last duty to perform for your captain before you can sleep.”

Suddenly to my horror Palozzi reached around my waist and began to unbutton my breeches.

“Captain what in the Lord’s name are you doing?” I cried in dismay.

“Come come boy, don’t be shy. Your job is to service the captain’s every need. Well, you shall service me tonight before we rest.”

Before I could protest further Palozzi had swiftly pulled down my breeches and I felt his hand reach into my private parts.”

“Mama mia!” he exclaimed. “You are not a boy you are a woman! What the devil are you doing on my ship!”

I turned and faced him trying to pull my breeches back up to my waist.

“Please captain do not be angry with me I beg of you. I was captured by pirates and escaped and I must get away form this accursed place to a Christian country. Please help me.”

“I suppose that you have no money to pay for your passage?” said Palozzi.

“I am afraid not,” I said despondently. “Everything I own was taken from me by those accursed pirates.”

“You realise that to help a runanway slave is punishable by death in Algiers. Why should I risk helping you?” demanded Palozzi.

“Please Captain out of Christian charity. I can still work my passage. I was not lying when I said I can cook and wash and sew,” I pleaded.

“It is a big risk. If Abu Quadir even suspected I could never trade in Algiers again,” said Palozzi. “The Barbary pirates do not tolerate many European ships in their waters. Fortunately I keep Abu Quadir supplied with alcohol so I am permitted free passage. Very well you may stay on the ship on two conditions. First you do not reveal that you are a woman to anyone else on this ship. You will stay in the cabin unless I give you permission to leave. Secondly you will work your passage and by that I mean you will provide all the services I demand of a cabin boy. Do you understand?”

I began to wonder whether I had jumped from the frying pan into the fire but I knew that I had no choice. At least this way there was a chance that I might reach Sicily and escape, though it horrified me to think what price I might have to pay for my passage. I quickly agreed to the captain’s terms. Palozzi ordered me to remove my breches and turn over once more. Reluctantly I slowly pulled off the outsized garment and lay waiting for what might come next.

“You understand that my preference is for boys,” said Palozzi. “Women are not really to my taste but if you can pretend to be a boy for a little longer I think we could get along very well. Now have you ever been fucked in the arse?”

“Please, no captain,” I pleaded. I will do anything for you but not that. I am a virgin. I am engaged to be married to Lord Oakleigh in England,” I lied desparate to save myself from my imminent fate.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are engaged to. Let me bugger you now or get off my ship and go back to your bloody pirates and see how they treat you,” said Palozzi.

“Very well Captain I see I have no choice,” I replied with reluctance.

“Tell you what, as you haven’t done this before I will make it a little easier.” said Palozzi.

At that the captain reached across to the table where he ate and took hold of a small bottle of olive oil, presumably normally used to dress his food. He poured a little into his hand and with his other hand rolled me onto my side. I suddenly felt the trickling sensation of the oil pouring down the cleft between my buttocks. Palozzi pulled apart my nether cheeks and proceeded to rub oil around my little puckered hole. I gasped at the rough sensation of his hands but knew I had no choice but to acquiesce to him. Soon he began to push a finger into my tight little rear entrance. When he had worked the finger to its full length he removed it and applied more oil. In a while I could feel that my whole rectum was coated with slick lubricant, his finger moved in and out of my orifice with ease and to my surprise he began to ease a second digit into the entrance alongside the first. Soon my anus was accommodating two fingers with surprising ease though it felt horribly distended by this operation.

Suddenly his fingers were withdrawn and I felt something much thicker pushing against my tight little postern gate. I remembered my experience of being buggered by Lord Oakleigh. At least he had been gentle and had offered me some pleasure in return. I knew that I could expect little such consideration from Palozzi and indeed a moment after I had felt his member press against my entrance he gave a hard thrust so that my poor anus was speared by his weapon which sank to about half its length into my flesh. I shrieked as a sharp stab of pain shot through my innards.

“Oh please captain, you are hurting me,” I gasped.

“Do I look like I care,” the ruffian grunted. “Put up with it or go back to the pirates.”

I had no reply to that and lay still as Palozzi delivered another mighty thrust so that the full length of his organ was now completely buried in my rectum. Now the brute began to thrust mercilessly into me making no attempt at gentleness or restraint. After a few moments the initial stabs of pain, which had met each thrust of his organ into my vitals, diminished and I could feel my muscles relax and accept the invasion of his prodigious engine. However, as these stabs of pain diminished a burning sensation began to build up in the entrance to my bowels where the passage was at its tightest. Fortunately just as I could almost bear the pain no longer the brute emitted a mighty groan and I felt a hot jet of liquid spurting into my insides. With a grunt he withdrew his already softening organ and I could feel a trail of sticky wetness follow in his wake and drip down my thighs.

Within minutes Palozzi had turned over and was snoring soundly. As for myself I lay awake suffering the smarting sensation of an abused rear end and wondering how many days of this I should have to endure before I could leave that stinking vessel.

The next morning I was rudely awakened by Captain Palozzi shaking me and loudly demanding his breakfast. He explained that the cook would supply me with the necessary victuals and I should also brew a large pot of coffee. With the cook’s assistance I succeeded in producing the requisite breakfast and Palozzi seemed contented with my efforts though he offered me no praise. I fed myself on the leftovers and was shown by the cook how to wash up the utensils in salt water. By now I desperately needed to answer the call of nature. I knew that sailors used what were called the ‘heads’ at the bow of the ship but how could I relieve myself in full view of the crew?

Eventually after searching under Palozzi’s bunk I found a chamberpot and decided to make use of that, intending to throw the contents into the sea through the porthole. I was just squatting over the pot, enjoying the intense relief of emptying my bladder, when to my horror Captain Palozzi entered. I hastily attempted to pull my breeches up around my waist.

“Ah of course I should have explained the sanitary arrangements on this ship. You cannot of course piss over the side like the rest of the crew,” he said. I am gald to see you are availing yourself of the facilities here. Pray do continue.”

“But … but captain I had finished,” I stammered.

“Oh I am sure you can squeeze a little more out for me. Now piss girl!”

With some reluctance I once more lowered my breeches and squatted over the pot. Palozzi watched me leering as I squeezed out another small stream my face suffused with embarrassment.

“From now on you will wait untiI I am here to piss. You understand?”

I had no choice but to comply with Palozzi’s order. Fortunately he remained busy for the rest of the morning supervising the ship’s departure. The wind had clearly got up for by late morning I could feel the ship beginning to move. I knew that I might have to undergo many more trials but at least I was on my way towards home and away form Algiers. However, it also struck home to me that I was going further away form my beloved Amy and I set to wondering where she was and whether she was safe from harm. I resolved that as soon as I could contact the British authorities I would insist on them mounting a mission to rescue her.

At mid-day Palozzie entered the cabin bellowing in his usual obnoxious way for his dinner. I fled to the cookhouse and the cook who seemed a kindly man showed me where to find bread and meat to prepare a meal for the Captain. This I did and returned with the Captain’s dinner which he ate quickly and greedily. I had hoped that once thus satisfied he would return to his duties above deck, however, Palozzi had other ideas.

“You must be ready to make water again, cabin boy. Have a piss in the pot now I am here,” he ordered.

With the greatest reluctance I once more squatted over the chamberpot exposing my naked buttocks to the perverted gaze of the captain and released a stream of my water into the bowl. I was just about to pull up my breeches when Palozzi spoke again.

“Come here my little cabin boy,” he bellowed. “I am going to have my siesta in a minute but first I need you to service me again.”

I was horrified. I had been cruelly buggered the night before and my poor little bottom was still sore from the pounding it had received.. Surely the fellow was not going to demand that he use me in the same manner again so soon.

“Come, open my breeches and take out my organ boy!” ordered Palozzi.

It seemed to please him to still pretend that I was a boy. Clearly the captain had no taste for women but seemed able to find satisfaction with me provided we maintained the pretence of my masculinity.

I reluctantly unbuttoned his breeches and pulled out his manhood which was not quite yet fully hard. His cock was not above average in length but of a considerable thickness. I noted that the Captain had been circumcised in the Moorish style which displayed the large purple mushroom head of his organ to maximum effect.

“Suck it!” ordered Palozzi.

I was reluctant to comply knowing that his organ had penetrated my own back passage the night before and I was quite sure that he had not washed himself since. The Captain pulled me forward by my hair and thrust my face into his lap. I had no option but to comply with his orders. Having been obliged to perform fellatio on Abu Qadir I was not entirely ignorant of the procedure and soon had his organ in a requisite state of tumescence.

I could faintly taste the hint of my own back passage on Palozzi’s prick together with the strong tang of his own male secretions. I felt somewhat revolted by this but resisted the desire to gag and obediently bobbed my head up and down on upon the captain’s rampant cock, sucking it like some giant lollipop. I felt I was making good headway and hoped that I could speedily bring him to climax so that I might be left alone again for some time. It was not to be. Palozzi suddenly pushed me away.

“Turn around,” he barked as I stood up. “Bend over the table.”

I knew what was coming next but also knew that I could do nothing but once again submit. I bent over the table from which he had just eaten his food, moving plates and cups to one side so I could rest my arms on the table top. I passively remained in this pose as he drew down my breeches exposing my naked rump to his lascivious gaze.

“Ah, for a girl you have a nice pert arse,” murmured the captain appreciatively.

“Please Captain,” I pleasded. “I know what you are about to do. If you will not spare me I beg of you use a little of the oil as you did last night for the love of God.”

Palozzi merely grunted but he did reach for the oil and once again anointed my puckered rosebud working the oil in well until my tiny orifice was at least fully lubricated.

Once he had completed this procedure he stood behind me grasping his organ in his fist and lined it up with my hole. This time he entered me to the hilt with a single mighty thrust. I gasped at the sharp stab of pain occasioned by this sudden intrusion and felt my bowels suddenly filled by the considerable girth of his organ. Once more he began to thrust vigorously into my poor little anus showing no consideration for the obvious discomfort I was suffering. Although I was still sore from the night before, in many ways it was easier on this second occasion. I began to learn how to relax my muscles and accept the intrusion into my back passage and soon enough I felt the familiar sensation of Palozzi jetting his hot seed within me as he grunted in pleasure at his climax. Once he had had his pleasure from me he lost all interest in me and lay back on his bunk apparently asleep. I cleaned myself as best as I could and set to my duties clearing away the utensils form lunch and taking them to the galley for washing.

The only member of the crew who I really encountered much on the voyage was the cook who was friendly enough and advised me how best to please the captain by cooking his favourite meals. The cook was a battered old sailor with a wooden leg. He spoke with a different accent from the Sicilian sailors and I discovered he was a Genovese. He described to how me he had served in Napoleon’s navy and had lost his leg in the battle of the Nile. He told me that ever since he had hated the English so I kept quiet about my English connections and pretended to be a poor boy from Naples.

The voyage to Palermo took three days. After my first day I quickly learnt my routine. I had to be up early to make the captain’s breakfast and then tidied his cabin. He would expect his dinner promptly at noon and would then expect to sodomise me over the table after he had eaten. After this he would sleep for about an hour. I was expected to wash and darn his clothes and attend to any other duties he gave me. In the evening I would cook and serve his supper, He usually got drunk after supper leaving the first mate in command. I used to hope he would get so drunk that he would collapse. Unfortunately he never did and each night I would be forced to share his bed. His routine never varied. He would climb into the bunk and lay behind me. He would lubricate my anus well with oil and then push his stocky organ into my tight back door. For a few minutes he would bugger me vigorously until he climaxed inside me and then turn over and fall asleep.

I gave up a prayer of gratitude when after three days we sailed into the harbour at Palermo. At last I hoped I might leave that dreadful ship and return to civilization. Unfortunately my hopes were soon to be cruelly dashed. Once the ship was moored and the cargo had been unloaded I asked Captain Palozzi if I might now go ashore.

“Leave the ship. Why do you want to leave?” thundered Palozzi. “Am I not a good master? Have I not treated you well. I have fed you. I have shared my bed with you and pleasured your every night. Besides I need you until I can find a replacement cabin boy and finding one with as tight an arse as yours who can also cook as well will not be easy!”

“But Captain, you promised that when we reached Palermo I should be able to leave the ship,” I protested.

“Silence, you will leave my service when I see fit, now go back to your duties,” ordered Palozzi.

I was in despair. I had endured three days of abuse to get to Sicily and now my chance of freedom seemed to be fading. I spoke to my friend the cook as I was washing up after the captain’s supper that evening..

“Tell me the truth, who are you really?” asked the cook.

“I told you I am from Naples and ran away to sea after a dispute with my father. Now I wish I had never left,” I said.

“Not many girls run away to sea,” said the cook observantly.

“What do you mean?” I blustered.

“That story about you being a boy. It may have fooled some of the other crew but not me. I spotted you for a girl straight away. The thing that I can’t understand is why Palozzi took you on. Boys are usually more to his taste.”

“He seemed happy enough as long as he could use me in the manner of a boy.” I replied.

“I see and now you have a sore arse you want to get away.” said the cook rather unsympathetically.

“Please cookie, is there any way you can help me get off this ship.” I begged.

“Well tonight they will all go ashore and get completely drunk. They usually leave me to guard the ship. I suppose I could be persuaded to look the other way if you made in worth my while.”

“But cookie, I have no money. The captain would not pay me,” I said.

“I didn’t ask for money. Perhaps you could let me have a little of what you offered the captain.” said the cook leering at me.

“I didn’t offer it he took it. I had no choice.” I protested.

“Well you don’t seem to have much choice now,” he replied.

“Very well what do you want from me?” I asked.

The cook quickly unbuttoned his breeches and pulled out the most enormous cock. It was far longer than the captain’s and at least as thick.

“Here suck on this girl,” he demanded.

Reluctantly I knelt before him and took his organ in my mouth. I was now quiite experienced in this task and soon had his pole throbbing in my mouth as I sucked on it furiously, hoping to end the encounter as quickly as possible.

“Not so fast little lady,” said the cook. “Let’s have a little more fun. I want some of what the captain has been enjoying. Bend over the table.”

I bent over the cook’s kitchen table dreading what was coming next. He unbuttoned my breeches and dropped them to the floor. Almost immediately I felt him push his massive organ between my bum cheeks. He had it lodged hard against my poor bruised rosebud and was clearly intent upon having me in exactly the same manner as the captain.

“Oh please cookie not there. You are so big you will damage me for sure.” I protested as he began to assault my little postern gate with his mighty battering ram.

“I can see that Palozzi’s small dick has not stretched you enough back there. Let’s find another hole,” said the cook.

Without more ado he plunged his cock into my pussy which was almost as dry as my arsehole. The cook was clearly in no mood for taking things gently for he thrust his organ into me several times until he had stretched my poor pussy sufficiently to accommodate about three-quarters of his massive cock. He then proceeded to cruelly ravish me from behind. My only consolation was that he had desisted from sodomising me with that gargantuan prick. However, my hopes on that score were soon dashed. I sensed that the cook was about to shoot his load into me as his gruntings reached a crescendo. Suddenly he pulled out from my pussy and once more lined his up tool with my puckered back door. With a mighty thrust he pushed the head through the portal stretching my poor anus beyond belief. I screamed in agony but the brute simply gave a few more thrusts. Thankfully before he had fully possessed by tender rectum his climax overcame him . Nevertheless his cock was sufficiently lodged in me for him to spill his seed into my bowels.

When the cook had had his way with me I addressed him once more.

“So you will assist my escape? Remember your promise. I would not want Captain Palozzi to find out what you have just done!”

“You have a fine arse girl I will be sorry to see you go but I will be good to my word. Await my call tonight.”


Lucy makes her escape and makes the acquaintance of Agnes and her family.

The hours seemed to pass interminably slowly. When it got dark Palozzi and most of the crew left the ship. Before he went Palozzi warned me that if I attempted to jump ship he would flog me. I waited what seemed like many more hours. At last there was a knock on the cabin door. It was the cook.

“The coast is clear,” he said. “There is one other sailor on guard but he is busy eating some supper which I cooked him. If you make a run for it now you should be able to slip away.”

Despite his treatment of me I was grateful and thanked him. I carefully climbed on to the deck and indeed there was no one about. I crept down the gangplank hardly believing that it could be so easy. Soon I was on the dock and made my way up a darkened side street into the town. I had no idea where to go and it was getting late. Soon I found myself in what appeared to be a wealthier quarter of the city judging by the size and grandeur of the houses. I resolved to find somewhere I could pass the night and then try and find someone in authority to whom I might explain my plight in the morning.

I was getting very tired as I stumbled past a large house set back form the road behind ornate iron gates. Suddenly a brass plate on one of the gate posts caught my eye. I could just make out the writing engraved on it in the light of a nearby street lamp.

J.B. Collins Esq.

British Consul

I could not believe it I had stumbled by chance on the house of the British Consul in Palermo. Surely he would take me in and help me. I noticed a chain hanging form the gate presumably attached to a bell. After some ringing I at length heard a voice speaking in Italian.

“Andante, andante. I hear you. I come.”

An elderly nightwatchman slowly swung back the gate and held up a lamp to my face.

“What in the name of god do you want at this hour of the night boy?” he demanded.

“Please my good man, I am not a boy but a lady. I am a British subject in distress and I have urgent need of assistance form the Consul.”

At that moment I swooned away entirely such was my state of exhaustion. I came round a few minutes later lying on a couch in a grand looking salon or reception room.

“Where am I?” I gasped as a lady waved a bottle of smelling salts under my nose.

“I am Mrs Collins, my husband is the British Consul. You are safe in the consulate madam,” said the lady. “now pray tell me who you are and how you came to us in this state.”

“My name is Lucrezia,” I said. “I am of Italian parentage but I was adopted by my British uncle when I was orphaned. I was captured by the Barbary pirates off Algiers and enslaved by them. I managed to escape and enlisted as a cabin boy on a Sicilian ship which brought me here.”

“You have indeed had some adventures,” said the lady kindly. This is my husband Mr Collins. We will of course care for you and endeavour to have you returned to your family as soon as possible.”

Mr and Mrs Collins showed me every kindness. When Mr Collins found out that Captain Palozzi had kept me prisoner he insisted that he report the matter to the Sicilian authorities. I was too ashamed to relate to the Collins the full extent of my maltreatment at the hands of the Captain. Besides by the time the authorities had sent a squad of carbinieri to the port Palozzi and his vessel had sailed. I was simply glad to have escaped his clutches.

June 2018
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