Jolly Rogering
by Aussiescribbler
Smashwords Edition published by
Aussiescribbler
Copyright
2011 Aussiescribbler
Cover image from http://www.123rf.com/
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When Agatha the milkmaid saw The Libertine sail surreptitiously up Blood River and disgorge it's motley band of renegades, she knew that this was her chance. She was an inveterate reader of pirate tales who longed to walk the swaying boards of a stolen Spanish galleon bound for the West Indies, there to prey upon the Queen's merchant ships like a wolf upon the sheepfold. She longed to feel the ocean spray in her face as she clung to the wildly swaying crow's nest, scouring the horizon for billowing sails. She longed to drink rum that would burn all the way down her throat and turn her belly into a jolly furnace. She longed to sing sea shanties and swap filthy jests with horny sea dog's who'd been at sea so long they were starting to have romantic thoughts about their parrots.
While reading her swashbuckling pot-boilers she had often wished she were a man. But no longer.
"A member of the fair sex I may be," she told herself, "but if I can't be a pirate, that's unfair. And I'm going to bloomin' well do something about it!"
That evening her dad sent her down to Davy Jone's Locker, the favourite tavern of sailors, to deliver their daily pitcher of milk. There she made a strange request of Saucy Sally the bar maid.
"They be pirates right enough," Sally told her. "My port will be well occupied for the next few days."
"Could you steal some of their clothes?" asked Agatha. "I'll pay you handsomely. I have some savings."
"Why would you want the sweaty rags from some crusty sea dog?" Sally wanted to know. "Are you kinky?"
"I've decided to be a pirate," Agatha confessed, looking Sally determinedly in the eye.
"A pirate? A girl can't be a pirate!" Sally insisted.
"Anything a guy can do, I can learn to do!" Agatha declared.
"Where the equipment allows," Sally conceded, "you may be right. But you don't look much like a pirate."
"I'll have to present myself as a trainee cabin boy," Agatha explained. "Once I learn to sword fight, I'm sure I can work my way up."
"Do you know what those guys do to good looking cabin boys when they've been out at sea for months?" Sally asked, shaking her head.
Agatha hadn't thought about that. The thought of her bum hole being buggered by pirate cock made her pussy get really juicy. But she would have to make sure that didn't happen. If they got her breaches down her secret would be out.
"I won't let them discover my sex," Agatha assured her.
"You're a fool, but a spirited one," conceded Sally. "I'll help you, but God help me. I'd never forgive myself if I heard that you'd been raped and thrown overboard for fish food."
A week later, Agatha had a kerchief tied over her red hair, her breasts tied down tightly with strips of cotton and was wearing a sailor's coat and breaches. She'd shoved one of her father's socks down the front of her breaches to simulate the bulge of a cock. And she'd dirtied up her face. She walked boldly up the gang plank to The Libertine and approached Captain Bullfinch.
Bullfinch looked at her grimly through his one remaining eye, stroking his crusty black beard with his right hand.
"What is it lad?" he growled with gruff impatience. "Are you one of the crew's bastard's come to say goodbye to daddy?"
"No," replied Agatha, putting on a convincingly masculine voice. "Sally from Davey Jone's Locker sent me. Old Monkey Breath is in Newgate. He got caught exposing himself to the landed gentry."
"Fuck!" cried Bullfinch. "He was a pain in the arse, but a fine sailor. Now we are one down."
"If you were to press-gang me, I wouldn't complain," Agatha told him. "I may be young - barely eighteen - but I have spirit and I feel the call of the tides."
"I'm a pirate, lad," glowered Bullfinch, planting his peg leg firmly on the deck and pulling Agatha toward him by the hook he slid between the buttons of her jacket. "I could kill you and throw you over the side of the ship without thinking twice."
"Yes, cap'n," Agatha replied nervously.
"You know that, don't you, lad?" he growled. "And yet you come to me and ask to be one of my crew. You have balls, boy! I can use a crew member with balls like that! You're hired."
Agatha was scared. This was reality, not some idle fantasy. But she was also exhilarated. She was a pirate!
***
Agatha used the name Roderick. She fit in well with the rest of the crew, and, in the first few weeks out at sea she really learned the ropes. She also learned the sails and the swabbing of the decks and a little sword fighting. And she learned how to swear like a sailor.
There were two problems though. She felt dirty and she felt dirty. Having all those manly pirates around her all day long, often shirtless, with the sun glistening off of their sweaty pectorals was making her horny. But there was no way she could relieve the frustration. There was no privacy for wanking. Hell, every time she needed to take a shit or a piss she had to scream, "Mermaid off the starboard bow!", pull down her pants, stick her bottom over the side and hope she could finish and make herself decent before anyone turned back around. They were beginning to think this Roderick fellow was a bit loopy. So she was getting hornier and hornier, especially when her favourite pirate, Buck - a young chiselled adonis with a neatly trimmed black beard - took his turn to bath on deck. All the pirates took turns bathing on the main deck, standing naked and washing down their bodies with ladles full of sea water from a big barrel and a huge bar of soap. Buck had a huge cock and a really tight ass. Agatha had been wearing the same pair of bloomers underneath her breaches for six weeks now and they were as crusty as a loaf of bread. She hadn't thought about this problem. She couldn't very well wash herself on board. She was feeling very mucky and the other pirates were laughing at her apparent hydrophobia and said she stank worse than a sperm whale's shit hole.
Eventually, the inevitable happened. The captain ordered the crew to strip "Roderick" and wash "him" down.
"No! No!" Agatha protested. "I'm just shy. I'll have a bath tonight after dark when no-one is around."
"You'll be stripped and swabbed like the ship herself," insisted Captain Bullfinch, "and you'll like it. Blake, hold him still! Buck, strip him naked!"
The game was up. There was no sense in resisting Agatha realised, so she let that dreamboat of a pirate unbutton her coat and remove her tunic.
"Why the binding on your chest?" asked Buck, beginning to unwind it. And that was when Agatha's shapely boobs sprang forth and Roderick the pirate-in-training disappeared.
"Well, I'll be horn-swaggled!" exclaimed the Captain. "It's a girl!"
"Coooorrrrrrrrrrr," growled the rest of the crew lustfully.
"I'm going to enjoy washing you down you smelly little wench," smiled Buck, with a twinkle in his eye.
"We'll all get a chance to enjoy her," declared the Captain. "And then she's fish food. We can't keep a woman on board a pirate ship. There would be no discipline."
"Wait!" cried Agatha, as Buck divested her of her boots, breaches and crusty bloomers, leaving her stark naked in front of the lustful eyes of the pirate crew, one hand across her pale freckled breasts and the other trying to hide her luxuriant conflagration of fiery pubes. "I'm serious about being a pirate. You've seen I'm good at shipboard duties and my sword fighting skills are improving. There were only two problems with pretending to be a man. One was I couldn't have a bath. I'm really not a dirty girl. I like to be clean. And the other is that I was getting so horny being in the middle of such a crew of manly pirates and not being able to feel your stiff hot cocks in my cunt and my arsehole and my mouth. So now you know that I'm a girl, its not a problem, its a solution. Let me be the ship slut."
"We won't have to fuck each other any more!" cried Blind Drunk Pugh.
"Speak for yourself!" whined Orlando, fingering his diamond-encrusted earring.
"There are twenty three horny sea dogs aboard this vessel," pointed out Bullfinch. "By the end of the first day you would be sore in every hole."
"Well," said Agatha, "you'll have to let me share myself in a sustainable manner. My mouth doesn't easily get sore and neither do my hands. Anytime any of you get stiff, I'll get you off, that I promise, but you might each have to be satisfied with only fucking my cunt once a fortnight and my arse once a month. Does that sound reasonable? And I'll keep myself clean. I can wash as often as I like now. I don't have to worry about you seeing my naked body. In fact, as long as we are in these warmer waters, I'll just stay nude. That'll make it much easier."
The pirates couldn't believe their ears. By now, all but Orlando, had pulled down their breaches and were wanking their proud cocks. Even the Captain's discipline had lapsed to this extent.
"Hey, boys," laughed Agatha, realising her position on the ship was secure, "there's no need to pleasure yourselves. That's my job!"
Quickly she splashed the sea water over her naked body and soaped it up thoroughly, and when she got to her pussy she took the opportunity to wank it shamelessly while the lusty crew looked on."UUuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh," she groaned, releasing all the pent up lust of six weeks at sea with the sexy pirates in one body-shaking, cunt-squirting orgasm.
And then the orgy began. Agatha started a lusty rendition of The Good Ship Venus. The guys all joined in, which was a good thing because Agatha couldn't keep singing once she had Buck's huge prick in her mouth. Bullfinch declared Captain's privilege, getting down on his one knee, spreading Agatha's pale bum cheeks, lubricating his throbbing erection with spit and ramming it home up her tight virgin arsehole.
"Ouch!" she cried at this indelicate invasion, but soon she found that the pain was replaced by pleasure.
Meanwhile she had a crewman's cock in either hand and was wanking them energetically. Horny as they were after six weeks at sea, it only took a couple of minutes for them to groan and quiver and spurt fountains of hot cum all over the deck and Agatha's soft and loving hands. When this happened another pair of cocks would take their place.
"Being a slut is even better than being a pirate!" Agatha thought to herself. "And I'm the luckiest girl in the world because I get to be both! I get to be a pirate slut!"
***
Life settled down to a pleasant routine. Agatha spent all of her time nude. She was starting to get quite a tan. The Captain allowed her to do her share of time in the crow's nest and at the wheel, but she didn't have to scrub the decks, as her energies were more useful wanking and sucking off the crew members, who seemed to be in an almost permanent state of arousal from the sight of her gorgeous nudity and the fact that she was always so happy to be fondled and spanked. Even Orlando let her suck him off one day on the proviso that she put her clothes back on and refer to herself as Roderick.
When they reached the West Indies, Agatha put her pirate outfit back on and fought alongside the men when they attacked one of the Queen's ships and sank it, though not before transferring all of its wealth to their own hold.
Eventually, after a successful series of raids, Bullfinch turned his ship around and headed back towards England.
Two days out from Havana, the Captain fell into a state of post-pillage depression. He really started to hit the rum hard.
"Mermaids!" he cried, staggering wildly across the deck, his eyes fixed on some mirage upon the horizon. His peg leg went into a knot hole and he tumbled over the side of the ship and fell with a loud splash into the peaceful swell of the ocean.
"We probably should try to rescue him," said Orlando, leaning over the side.
"Damn near impossible for a man to swim with a wooden leg," put in Blake.
"More rum for the rest of us without him though," reasoned Buck, logically.
"Those sharks don't look very friendly," Agatha pointed out. "I wouldn't fancy jumping in after him."
"I can't look!" cried Orlando. "Gruesome deaths upset me."
And so it was that they found themselves without a captain.
"We'll have to hold an election," pointed out Buck an hour later as Agatha slurped on his cock.
"I'm willing to nominate myself," put in Blake.
"I'll go up against you," said Blind Drunk Pugh, "I have seniority."
Agatha stood up and quickly swallowed down her mouthful of cum. She stood defiantly naked with her hands on her hips and trails of semen running down her legs from cunt and arse.
"I should be your captain!" she cried.
"We can't have a girl captain," complained Buck. "Anyway you have your job. You're the ship slut."
"Don't worry," she smiled. "There won't be less fucking with me as captain. There'll be more, because I'll order you to fuck me, even when you think you are worn out. At the moment I'm just taking care of your needs. You haven't met my needs yet."
"I don't know," mumbled Pugh.
"If you don't vote me captain, I'll feed myself to the sharks and you'll be back to begging Orlando to gobble your nut-sacks," she threatened. She knew she had them over a barrel. "And with a pirate queen as a your captain, you never know, some other horny sluts may want to join the crew."
"I think we have our new captain," conceded Buck.Agatha went below decks and found Bullfinch's spare clothes. She put on a pair of leather thigh boots, fastened a six inch wide leather belt with massive skull and crossbones buckle around her slender waist and put a pirate hat with a big red feather on her head at a jaunty angle, then she went back aloft to address her crew.
"From now on, as long as I'm naked, all of you are going to be naked," she told them as she paced back and forth on the bridge.
"Somehow, I have a feeling this is the end of piracy as we know it," said Pugh as he pulled down his breaches and shrugged off his coat. "But I feel fine."
Soon the entire crew were naked. Agatha was at the wheel, feeling the glory of her triumph and the invigoration of the sea breeze in her face and over her bare tits.
Behind her all of the men stood on the deck with their eyes riveted to her luscious round bare ass framed by the leather of her belt and her boots. All of their cocks were standing out stiff and proud like so many bowsprits pointing the way to a gloriously unpredictable future.
The End
Robin Crusoe was bored. She was also horny. The steady rise and fall of the sailing vessel as it made its way over the mighty waves of the Pacific Ocean reminded her of sex. But then everything had a way of reminding Robin of sex.
So far, on the voyage, she had contented herself with masturbating in her cabin, but tonight she was feeling more adventurous. She knew that the hunkiest of the sailors was taking the night watch on deck, so she slipped out of her bloomers and went aloft. The sea breeze whipped up the hem of her long dress and she felt the ocean spray upon the tender flesh of her bosom which was lifted and displayed to best advantage by her bodice.
There was Matthew, the spunky sailor, standing on the deck.
"Hello, there," she greeted him. "I couldn't sleep."
"Greetings, ma'am," he replied. His shirt was open to the navel, displaying his hairy muscular chest.
"Where's the Southern Cross?" Robin wanted to know.
"That's it up there," Matthew pointed. As he did, Robin moved up close and began to rub the front of his breaches.
"Did I ever tell you that I'm very fond of seamen?" she purred.
"If you keep that up you might get more than you bargained for, you saucy wench," threatened the sailor.
"The question is whether you can keep it up," chuckled Robin, unbuttoning the man's fly and freeing his now rock hard cock.
"Thank goodness the captain has been hitting the bottle hard this evening," Matthew pointed out. "Normally he puts in a regular appearance. But I think, tonight, I might be able to give you what you want without danger of being interrupted."
"I think it's what you want too," Robin said, stroking his hot hard prick. "And I've taken my bloomers off for easy access." She lifted her dress to give a quick flash of her hairy pussy.
The next thing she knew she was bent over the ship's railing with the sea spray drenching her face and boobs, as Matthew lifted her dress, gave her bare bottom a slap and then slid his hard cock deep into her juicy wet cunt.
"Oh, God!" she moaned. "That's exactly what I need."
"Your cunt's so wet!" exclaimed Matthew. "How slutty can a lady be?"
"A lady is someone who appreciates the fine things of life," she sighed. "And that sure is a fine thing you're thrusting into my tender cunt."
With his big calloused hands he grabbed at her soft bum cheeks as he pumped away.
As pleasure coursed through her body her legs began to wobble. And then she felt her juices flowing out over his cock and down her legs.
"Ahhhhhh," he groaned as he shot his load in her steaming depths.
"Anything to report?" asked a deep voice from down the other end of the deck.
"Shit!" Matthew exclaimed softly. Then he grabbed Robin's legs and quickly flipped her over the side of the ship. She fell into the water with a splash which was drowned out by the sound of the waves hitting the bow of the vessel.
"Help! Help!" yelled Robin.
"What was that?" asked the captain.
"Just the porpoises," replied Matthew.
Within half an hour, the ship had disappeared over the horizon and Robin was bobbing like a cork in the massive waves.
The first thing she did was to struggle out of her dress. She was a good enough swimmer, but she had to be free to move and not weighed down by wet clothing.
She could swim, but where? She had no way of finding the nearest land.
Just as she was considering this question her eye was caught by movement off to her left. In the light of the near full moon she could see a large fin coming straight towards her. It was a shark, probably a White Pointer, and it was moving ever faster as it approached. Within seconds it was upon her.
"Fuck off!" cried Robin, punching the shark hard in the nose. It fell back, circled, and then went off in search of fast food that didn't fight back.
Robin trod water until dawn. Then she saw another fin close by. She tensed up her fist, but then she saw the blow-hole and a shot of spray into the morning sunlight. It was a dolphin.
Swimming over to the friendly creature, Robin grabbed it by the tail and let it drag her along. Dolphins like to spend some of their time close to shore, so if she hung on long enough she might end up near land.
Sure enough, on the morning of the next day, Robin found herself within swimming distance of a tropical island. She bid her ocean-going friend a fond farewell and swam toward the island, finally relaxing and just letting the tide wash her ashore.
The first thing she did was to pick up a coconut, break it against a rock and eat hungrily of the white meat. And she discovered a spring where water boiled up through the ground. It looked as if she would be able to survive here.
After she had taken care of her basic needs, she found a sharp rock and used it to carve a crude calendar into the side of a fallen tree. She was a good religious girl and was determined never to lose track of which day was Sunday.
She built herself a crude hut and she explored the island. The days passed and turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months, and the months into years. Most of her time she spent sunbathing and masturbating. There wasn't much else to do on the island. It wasn't long before she was nut brown. Her diet consisted mainly of coconuts and fish.
There was a banana tree on the island, but she never ended up eating any of the bananas. The reason was a lack of patience. In order to eat the bananas she would have to wait for them to get ripe. But, looking up at those green bananas growing big and long and fat, made her think of something else which was big and long and fat. She was aching for cock. So she would always end up picking each banana before it got ripe so that she could shove it deep into her hungry twat. Fucking bananas wasn't the same as fucking cocks. They weren't warm and throbbing and they didn't squirt hot cum all over the inside of her cunt, but they were the best replacement she had, and she could only use them a few times before they got all shrivelled up by the sun.
There was another island nearby. Robin could tell because she could sometimes hear the faint sound of tribal drums drifting across the sea. One day she decided to build a canoe and see if she could paddle to the other island.
It was the middle of a Friday afternoon when Robin paddled around the coast of the other, larger, island. She took refuge behind a large rocky outcrop and peeked around it toward the shore where a group of dark-skinned natives were gathered. What she saw made her vomit up her coconuts.
Some of the natives were tearing flesh from large bones with their teeth. And, in the middle of the beach lay what was left of a human corpse. The natives were cannibals!
Once her stomach had settled, Robin looked once more at the cannibal group. Like herself, they were all naked. And the men were very well-endowed. Their cocks hung halfway to their knees. It was almost enough to weaken Robin's resolve to maintain her distance from these dangerous individuals. She didn't want to get eaten, but she would have dearly liked to be gang-banged by those cannibals. As she watched, some of the cannibal women began playing with the men's cocks, licking their balls and stroking their swiftly stiffening shafts. And then they were sliding those big stiff cocks deep down their throats. It seemed to Robin that the men were taking a chance given that the women, like themselves, had a taste for human flesh. But maybe they didn't eat members of their own tribe.
Robin returned safely to her island and resolved not to visit the cannibal island again. She didn't want to draw attention to her presence.
But, one Wednesday about four months later, the cannibals visited Robin's island.
She hid behind a tree and watched as they dumped an old man on the shore and then paddled away.
Robin had heard about some native peoples, most notably the Inuit, who would take their elderly out to some remote location and leave them to die. She suspected that this was what was being done in this instance.
Once the canoe had disappeared over the horizon, Robin came out and had a look at the old man. He looked at her with big sad eyes as he sat despondently on the sand.
Robin held out her hand in greeting. The man grabbed it and shoved it in his mouth. Then he savagely licked and sucked on it. He had no teeth.
"A cannibal with no teeth?" said Robin. "I can see where that could be a problem."
She sat down in the sand and let the old man, whom she had decided to name Wednesday, since that was the day of the week on which she had met him, suck on her fingers. Then she had an idea.
"My fingers aren't the tastiest bit of me," she told him, as she lay back and pressed his lips to her right nipple. He sucked on it enthusiastically and it stiffened in his mouth.
Half an hour later, Robin was quivering and crying out in orgasm, as Wednesday licked and sucked on her horny cunt.
Now Robin had less need for the green bananas, which was a good thing, because soft bananas was the perfect food to feed to Wednesday. Before the bananas had started to ripen, she had had to spit chewed up coconut into his mouth like a mother bird feeding her chicks. She thought this was kind of disgusting, but he didn't seem to mind. Then she remembered what he used to eat and she could understand why he might not be so fussy.
She found that it was nice to have someone to look after. And the sexual favours didn't just go one way. Since he was so good at orally pleasuring her, it only seemed fair that she wank Wednesday. He might be old and feeble, but he had a huge cock, which didn't require much encouragement to swell and stiffen. Robin slid her hand up and down its length and whispered endearments he couldn't understand, until spurt after spurt of creamy white jism splattered all over his leathery brown hide. She would lick it all up and swallow it down as she didn't want to waste any precious protein.
Robin and Wednesday lived together like this for about a year. But then she made the mistake of fucking him. She knew he was physically very weak, but he had such a huge capable cock. So one day she rolled him over on his back mid-wank and mounted him. She rode up and down on his impressive stiffness and she grabbed his bony hands and placed them on her bountiful bouncing boobs. She came quickly and hard, squirting her juices over his big droopy balls, and he also orgasmed.
But it was too much for his weak heart. He died with a smile on his face.
After she had buried Wednesday, Robin became very lonely.
One day, as she looked down at her right breast, she noticed that the nipple looked a bit like a little brown nose in the middle of a chubby brown face. She picked up a piece of charcoal from her fire and drew little black eyes and a little black curve of a mouth on her breast. She drew the eyes on the bottom and the mouth upside down on the top, so that, from her perspective, as she looked down at it, it looked like a face. She called it Wilson. She wasn't sure why. It just looked like a Wilson.
Over time she spent more and more of her time talking to Wilson. She told him her life story. She told him jokes. She complained to him when it rained and when she accidentally burned her fish. Wilson was always sympathetic.
One day a bottle washed ashore. Robin picked it up and found that it contained a hand-written message on a piece of parchment. I read, "Please rescue me. My name is Alexander Selkirk and I'm a castaway on Juan Fernandez archipelago off the coast of Chile."
"Sorry, Alex baby," Robin said, as she picked up a seagull quill, dipped it in squid ink, and scratched out the man's name and his current location. She changed it to her name and put the location as Fuckdifino Island. Then she threw it back out to sea. "It's a dog eat dog world for us castaways."
Robin had been on the island for seven long years when finally a ship's sails appeared on the horizon. The ship was the HMAS Bounty. She jumped up and down and waved to the boatload of mutineers as they rowed ashore.
The first to step onto the sand was Fletcher Christian ("Big Ears" to his friends). He was accompanied by four of his fellow crew members.
"Am I glad to see you guys!" exclaimed our heroine, feeling the wetness dribble down the inside of her thighs at the prospect of a decent fuck.
"So you are not a native?" asked the incredulous Christian. "You speak perfect English."
"I'm Lady Robin Crusoe," she declared proudly. "I have been on this island for seven long years."
Then she strode boldly up to Christian and began unbuttoning his breaches.
"Ma'am, perhaps your long ordeal has caused you to lose your wits," he suggested, looking embarrassed.
"The only thing that's making me crazy is that I haven't seen a cock for five years," she insisted, pulling out his rock hard penis. "And it looks like you quite like the idea of fucking an insane island girl."
"We will if he doesn't!" cried one of the other men, yanking down his trousers and waving his hard cock in her general direction.
"I want you all," she informed him. "But you'll just need a bit of patience."
Patience, however, isn't a mutineers strong suit, so no sooner did she have Fletcher Christian nude on the sand, with her juicy cunt impaled over his meaty member, than one of the other men was bending her forward, smearing his pre-cum all over his cock and shoving it up her bum-hole.
"Oh, dear," she cried. "I've never had one there before, but I think I like it!"
Then another sailor was slapping his stiff dick against her face. She opened her lips and sucked it in, teasing it with her wicked tongue.
Each of the other men grabbed one of her hands and pushed it onto his erection. She wrapped her fingers around their excited poles and began wanking them off.
Ain't that always the way, she thought to herself as she was rapturously gang-banged, no cock for five years and then five come along all at once.
The End
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