PART I
JANUARY, 1780
ORANJESTAD, SINT EUSTATIUS
CARIBBEAN
ELLIOTT BROODED as he rowed back to his ship.
He had never lost such a battle before. Granted, it was not one he’d meant to start, and had taken him and his crew completely unawares. Granted, too, that while he’d outmatched a highly skilled swordswoman, his men had had to fight three crews at the same time over her—
—and there was no honor in besting a woman at swords, no matter how accomplished she might be.
Still …
Captain Fury.
Dunham had called her Jack, but it did not sit well on her shoulders, and definitely not as well as her nom de guerre.
It and tales of her adventures traveled from the Colonies to the Caribbean, from England to Egypt, from Africa to Argentina. He’d thought her a myth, such as sirens and mermaids and selkies. He’d heard she was striking, though not beautiful, and even that only as an aside. He’d also heard she occasionally went bare-breasted about her ship and always, without fail, in battle.
’Twas said she had taken the Carnivale on her own, with no forewarning, no conspiracy, but he refused to believe that. Captain Skirrow was known far and wide as a tyrant so cruel even the Ottomans feared him. Considering the women in Elliott’s family, he could easily believe in the existence of a female privateer captain, but not that a woman could lead a mutiny to acquire it.
If she had indeed taken it—no one seemed to know why—she would have had to have its crew behind her.
mutiny
by a woman
accepted as an equal by two well-respected commanders
Elliott searched his mind for more tidbits he’d long forgotten because her existence—if, indeed, she did exist—made no difference to him. A woman pirate. Not since Anne Bonney and Mary Read. Even they had worked as men, and under Jack Rackham’s protection.
Myth.
Most men weren’t capable of the exploits laid at Fury’s feet.
Striking? Aye, he supposed. Not beautiful. She had generous hips, magnificent breasts, fair skin that had the faint look of perpetual sunburn, and eyes the color of burnt sugar. Her hair had initially caught his eye: pink. A red so light and so streaked blonde by the sun it looked like a strawberry, peach, and creme purée.
But it was the smile she had cast at the old man with whom she’d entered the tavern that transformed her into something ethereal.
Fierce? Aye. She had challenged him so that he had been stretched to defeat her, and even then her mentor had reprimanded her for being out of practice. He could see why she might be; she likely relied upon her reputation to stay out of as many battles as possible. ’Twas logical: the most reward for the least risk.
Captain Fury.
She kissed like a woman who knew how to spike a man on his own lust, and her arse had filled his hand perfectly.
There are many ways you could have acquired my undivided attention for a night or six.
His eyes narrowed as he rowed harder and his jaw clenched.
He definitely wanted her undivided attention. Wanted to run his fingers through that incredible pink hair. Wanted to grind his mouth against hers. Wanted to wrap her thighs around his hips. Wanted to bury himself so hard, so deep within her she would never, ever forget who he was or what he could do to her.
What pleasure he could give her.
His men had left the tavern to seek their fun elsewhere, but Elliott had lost his taste for whoring tonight. With each pull of the oars toward the Silver Shilling, he cast about the bay for the Thunderstorm. Ah, there, not so far from his ship, though he could be easily forgiven for missing it, as it was painted entirely black so as to disappear in the night.
The stern was sparsely embellished, but its design was definitely British. He rowed slowly toward it. It was a sixth-rate sloop-of-war, three masts, ship-rigged. He counted no fewer than sixteen carronade and at least twelve swivels. It was a rare vessel, Swan class, the same size as the HMS Rose, which Elliott had once numbered in a fleet he had commanded. It was the perfect privateer: enough room in the holds to put a decent amount of cargo, enough armament to fend off most predators as well as take merchant vessels much larger, and enough speed to outrun any warship she came up against.
He found himself nodding in approval as he rowed slowly past it, admiring its sleek lines. He was just past the ship’s hull when he looked up at the prow and his mouth dropped open.
That figurehead!
“Almighty God,” he whispered, thoroughly awed.
Fury herself. Carved thrice scale in mahogany, with her hair streaming behind her, her body bare to the apex of her thighs, which then parted and straddled the prow as if she rode a lover, her bare arse firm, her wooden feet curled up over the rail. Her breasts were high and well-formed, the erect nipples large and prominent. Her right fist gripped the hilt of a massive steel sword, its point thrust deep into the wood beneath her thigh, its blade dripping wooden blood down the hull. Her left hand was outstretched to the world, her first finger pointing the way.
Her face had been caught in an expression of savage ecstasy; one could not tell if she was receiving ungodly pleasure from her prow or from battle. If Elliott had not already been half aroused thinking about how that arse fit in his hand, he was fully engorged now, watching her fuck her ship.
Then he grinned. No, he had not intended to do anything other than kiss a pretty wench with an entrancing smile, much less start a war, but there was only one thing to do after one had lost a battle to an enemy: Win the next and with it, finish the war.
By dawn, Elliott and his ship, its crew lively from a good night’s work and now not at all resentful of a lost tavern brawl, weighed anchor and put out to the other side of Sint Eustatius.
Elliott could barely think to command, his attention riveted by the sword-wielding mahogany privateer captain who now fucked the prow of the Silver Shilling instead of the Thunderstorm.
If you don’t want to wait 2 years to get to the end, you can buy it here.
Things are getting horny!
Oh, honey. You ain’t seen nuthin’ yet.
6 people on…normal. 4 people at 4am on, we make Flint blush
LOL
It’s like being 16 again.
Dammmmnnn that is some figurehead.
It’s a great description. Perfectly conveys the awe and appreciation men can have for beauty, how art can inspire action.
Yes, it’s lurid. That is part of being human. If you make it the only or most important part of being human, that’s when you have trouble.
MoJo! Before I forget, can I have your EBT substack link? I wanna share it with a gal I’m groomin’ for here. She wants to start a writing project with me ridiculing waste in Todd County, MN welfare/services where she clerks. Your voice is one I think she’d gravitate to.
I don’t have a substack, EBT or otherwise. Also, I sound like a 12yo redneck who ate a dictionary.
Why did I think it was you? Someone, a perhaps mythological female, linked to an article they wrote about EBT’s waste. I remember cuz I saw the same at a co-op in Bloomington, IN: Otherwise well-off folk buying lamb shanks and nice wine with EBT. Fellow university students felt the desire to be a ‘starving artist’ without actually sacrificing anything.
I remember it being a gal specifically cuz I wanted to share it with my ‘friend’ – she’d be refreshed to hear from other sane* females. (By ‘our’ measures of sanity.)
Oh, THAT. Yes, here: My rant on my own blog.
Thanks, doll! (That did get a couple laughs out of me, as well.)
Ha, I’ve had that job. In the 90s it was even nuttier because everyone got – and spent – their stamps (no EBT cards then) on the same day. So the carts with piles of expensive meat stacked high would trail down every aisle.
I hate when I forget that it’s the first of the month and I go to the grocery store – the food stamps renew and the pension checks all clear on the first.
We used to call it Mothers Day.
First days of the month are the busiest at work. Folk time it to match their benefits coming in.
Good fiscal sense, in a sense.
Captain Fury would be the angrier rum version of Captain Morgan.
“There are many ways you could have acquired my undivided attention for a night or six.”
I’ve had this thought many times. Sadly, I ‘ignored’ many/most of OBVIOUS SIGNALS, J̵E̵R̵R̵Y̵ EVAN! cuz of my drastic naivete. (I’ve also used the phrase concerning fantasy-hopeful glimpses of certain gals, usually at a bar or show I played. (Also on sidewalks and every other daily moment. Window-shopping is a glorious perk of living in a society.))
Well, he made his wishes known when he pulled her into his lap and kissed her, last chapter. I mean, there was no mistaking anything.
Well, it *is* Friday after dark. Here’s a peak example of my idiocy: High school. I’m 17/18 and have my own car, not my parents’. I was popular (in my own way). I’m still a virgin, though I’ve finger-banged. (Why didn’t I have Katie return the favor?! I honestly don’t recall. I turned down another advance from her, but that’s for later.) Lindsey is the hottest chick in school, though two years younger than me. I’m driving her and her friend ’round, smoking bowls and smokes. I ask what they want to do next and Lindsey said to go to her place. Why?
“I want to suck your cock.” –> Welp. I took ’em straight to her folks’ place. Her bedroom was well-secluded. (I seemingly forgot or was too intimidated??) I didn’t even go for a kiss and left somehow unaware of EVERYTHING she was trying to take my maiden. Sigh, her and gal I met freshman year at IU. Dammit. That would’ve changed my life. Possibly wouldn’t have gone to Korea. I consider that also OBVIOUS week-long fuck-fest at her place — that I somehow didn’t grasp — a major hinge point in my life. (It would’ve aided Relationship Status and youthful fun.)
For Mojo:
No Man Is an Island
John Donne
I always had mixed feelings about this poem.
It is too often used by collectivists to justify their shit ideas.
RIP Jpop singer and actress Miho Nakayama.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miho_Nakayama
Only 54. Was just listening to her earlier today.
https://youtu.be/Xz8n4xL1fG4
https://youtu.be/_IWtPr8pfKs
Two more
https://youtu.be/hV3fVD4Ue_w
Something seasonal. Can’t believe she was only 22 then.
https://youtu.be/8OrWjLX2kOk
I HAAAAAATE WordPress’ Block editor.
It is unintuitive and next to impossible to do anything in. The disappearing vital UI elements was a nice touch. I have no idea what’s going on because it keeps vanishing.
I finished the first z80 video and submitted a Glibs article to share it.
WordPress doesn’t like the embed much, but it technically works.
Watched an actual episode of The Love Boat for the first time in 40 years. Used to love it. Now… wow, is everyone so young. Gavin McCloud is horribly miscast. And they’re all hound dogs harassing passengers.
Harassing? Isaac’s just trying to get himself some trim, yo!
They were all in on it. Capt, Doc, Isaac, Gopher.
If those fine, fine ladies didn’t want to get “harassed” they wouldn’t have booked a cruise on the Love Boat.
Y’all old as f.
Love you tho. XD
So, my sister in law decided to visit us during a time when there are no holidays or anything.
Then, one of the other sisters decided she’d join in. Now I’ve got ten people living in my house for the next 3 days. Can’t wait to visit Peppa pig land today (yes, it’s real). We get to host one of my niece’s birthdays.
Her mother can’t decide of going to Peppa pig land, and having a party with cake at our house is enough for her 4 year olds birthday, it of she should throw another party when she gets back home.
People are crazy. My kids are lucky they get a cake and some balloons. But guess what? They love that and have a ton of fun. The money I don’t waste on it goes into their investments. They’ll all thank me later.
Balloons? You spoil those children.
Back in my day we got one balloon and were happy about it.
You were spoiled.
We counted ourselves lucky if we got cake. There were never balloons.
Assuming the government doesn’t confiscate those investments, of course.
Sure, but it probably won’t. You’ve got to do your best to put your money where rich people do. All policy is crafted to benefit those already with wealth and power… I can exploit that by acting as much like one of them as possible.
Government sees a big pile of money and thinks “How can we get it for ourselves?”
To clarify a little…
We’re never moving away from inflation. The best you can do is own things that will inflate first and the most. Seems to be that this will continue to be stocks and housing.
One of my neighbors just sold her house for 5x what she paid for it just 20 years ago. Not a bad ROI given that she also got to live there that whole time.
Mine has doubled in value in less than 13 years. 😲
Good mornin, Gliberatti!
🌄😋✊
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=yIOL5SSjWdw
🎶🎶
Morning, sean.
☕
Good morning, Sean, U, 4(20), NA, Ted’S., and TAFKALack!
Follow up: https://www.wfmz.com/news/ap/ap-national/crews-recover-the-body-of-a-woman-from-a-pennsylvania-sinkhole-after-a-4-day/article_342b8e20-089c-5178-b3ed-5a79354d329f.html
83 years ago we woke up to a helluva surprise and not a nice one either.
We can’t seem to shake off the cobwebs and return to that simpler time.
If it ain’t one war, it’s another
Good morning! Really late start for me.