Jul 102006

“Relax, Hopkins, and have a beer,” the sheriff said.

I took the beer without thinking. Before I opened it, I said: “Oh, crap, I’m only twenty. I can’t have a beer.”

The other men laughed. “Son, there’s no law here tonight,” Sheriff Stevens said.

I opened the beer and took a deep drink. No one had offered any explanations for what we were doing here, and I was getting nervous. Mr. Meyers and Mr. Wickman hadn’t said a word to me Mr. O’Neil had just said that it had something to do with my father. Dad had passed away last year, and Mr. O’Neil said I should come in his place.

What a place it was. We were hunched around a fire on the shore of Wenches’ Cleft. This small bay was named, so it was said, after a local legend about a ship of barmaids that sunk during the Revolutionary War. I was eighteen before I realized that it was more likely named after the shape of the shoreline. On a map, this place looked downright vaginal. There were no marinas, no houses and not even a road to this beach. The town fathers of New Daland had years ago outlawed any development, and each town council elected afterwards had agreed. This resulted in a beautiful spot, but one that was deserted and creepy — especially on Halloween night.

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It didn’t help that a cold Atlantic wind was blowing and threatening to extinguish the fire with every gust. There was a bright harvest moon, and the waves looked odd under the orange glow. This far away from civilization, you could see all of the stars in the sky, and they crowded the night so fully you almost expected one to fall down for lack of room. All of this sounds picturesque when you read it on the screen in your safe home, but living it was disconcerting. I felt like I was in one of my father’s favorite movies.

I shook my head. I didn’t like thinking about Dad. He always resisted my desire to leave this town. When I got out of high school, he got me a well-paying job doing errands for Mr. Wickman. He wouldn’t even hear of my going out of the county for a vacation. Now that he was gone, I had sold the house and packed the car. I planned to leave in the morning and see what the rest of the world was like. I should have been in bed sleeping, but at Mr. O’Neil’s request, I was freezing my ass off on a log in the middle of the night.

“Your father was a good man,” Mr. O’Neil said out of the blue. The other men nodded. I said nothing. Dad was a good man if a little strange. He was New Daland’s doctor, but he also collected books, movies and anything to do with the supernatural. By the time I was twelve, I could set a broken bone and knew the three ways to test for poltergeists. Mom left us when I was ten, and although she never wrote or called, Dad never said a bad word about her. He was a good man.

“You said I needed to come in my father’s place?” I asked.

The men looked at one another, and finally, Mr. Wickman said, “All right, all right, I’ll tell the boy.”

Mr. Wickman owned the only restaurant in New Daland. He was ancient, easily over eighty. I’d only seen Mr. Wickman in his rocking chair back in town, and it was unsettling for me to see him sitting on a log. The wind blew through his wispy, long white hair as he turned his excited eyes to me.

“Years ago, when New Daland was founded, the settlers here found a hidden treasure,” he said. “The treasure came from a group of pirates that used Wenches’ Cleft as a port.”

I started to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. We’re inside the Outer Banks. They don’t call this part of the coast the Graveyard of the Atlantic for nothing. No pirates came this far north. Blackbeard was the only pirate cocky enough to try, and they’re still looking for his ship.”

“Shut up, kid,” Mr. Meyers said wearily. “Just shut up and listen. God damn, you are your father’s kid. I bet you’ll keep talking when they —“

The sheriff’s elbow silenced him before he could finish. Mr. O’Neil chuckled but didn’t add anything. Mr. Wickman took this opportunity to keep talking.

“As I was saying, boy, the founding fathers found a treasure. The thing about this treasure is that there wasn’t a lot to go around. So the twelve men swore one another to secrecy. Only these twelve men were allowed to enjoy the treasure, and when they passed away, the secret would pass to their oldest sons. Over the years, some families have died out, and some have moved on to other towns. We five are the remaining descendants of the original founding fathers.”

“Treasure?” I said. “Dad never mentioned any treasure. In fact, we had to eat tuna casserole for two weeks one spring when no one got sick. He certainly didn’t leave me anything really valuable in his will.”

Mr. Wickman snorted. “It’s not that kind of a treasure. This kind of treasure can be collected only every ten years. Believe me, we’ve tried to collect it sooner. One year, Bill camped here for six months and never saw the treasure.”

“Shut up, Olin,” Mr. Meyers said. “Look, every Halloween you bring that up, like I don’t feel stupid enough. It was after Sally divorced me. I was desperate, OK?”

“Keep telling him the story,” Mr. O’ Neil interrupted. I noticed that he looked out to the water while he spoke, and it reminded me of when I first sat down. I had tried to sit with my back to the wind coming from the water, and all four of the men had yelled at me to move.

“Why are we watching the water?” I asked.

“What your father should have told you is that the founding fathers were visited by ghosts,” Mr. Wickman said. I smiled and he scowled. “I’m dead serious. One hundred and ninety years ago, the founding fathers saw a ghost ship. Now this wasn’t one of those sorry-ass sightings you hear about nowadays. The ship didn’t disappear and reappear, and it sure as hell didn’t make a sail into some mist and vanish. No, this was a real honest-to-Christ ghost ship, and it landed here, right at this very spot.

“The founding fathers talked to these ghosts and found out they were coming back in ten years. They also found out these ghosts were pirates and that were loaded with treasure the fathers wanted. The pirates may have been ghosts but their treasure was real. The pirates and the founding fathers came to an understanding. The founding fathers agreed to always greet them here on Halloween night every ten years to make the pirates’ voyage a little less lonely.”

I was openly laughing until all of the men scowled at me. “You’re serious?” I asked. “I mean, really. Ghost pirates? With real treasure? Where do they get it from?”

“Told you he wouldn’t believe us,” Mr. Meyers grumbled. “His dad was the same damn way. ‘Pirates didn’t have galleons; they used smaller boats.’ Or ‘Why are their clothes so modern?’ Jesus Christ, the man was always happy to take his share, but he always debated them like he could reason them out of existence!”

Sheriff Stevens stirred the fire. “Don’t mind Bill,” he said. “Your dad was a smart man, and some of his questions could get disturbing. It was strange enough dealing with ghosts without someone pointing out how impossible they were. I think your father suspected they might be something else. It didn’t stop him from fucking them, though.”

I nearly fell off my log. “What? He fucked the ghosts?”

“We all did,” Mr. O’Neil said. “It’s why they keep coming back. We’re a port of call for them.”

“I … I … didn’t know my dad was gay.”

They all looked at me in stunned silence before breaking into laughter. Even Mr. Meyers was laughing. Mr. Wickman was laughing so hard I thought his head was going to fall off. Sheriff Stevens recovered first.

“Shit, son, they ain’t guy pirates,” he said. “These are lady pirates.”

“What? There’s no such thing.” The old men just kept laughing. “Really, there is no such thing as women pirates. There were a few in the Caribbean but they posed as men. There weren’t enough female pirates to even fill a ship.”

“We know that,” Mr. O’Neil said when he got a hold of himself. “Your dad and I did years of research. The ship the ghosts sail is all wrong. The English they speak is anachronistic. Last time they visited, one of them was wearing a leather jacket. It doesn’t make any sense of all, but we do know one thing. Every ten years, on Halloween night, they sail to Wenches’ Cleft and have a party on the beach.”

“You guys are having me on for some reason,” I said. “No disrespect, but you guys are full of it.”

“Then what’s that, Mr. Know-It-All?” Mr. Meyers said. There was triumph in his sarcasm.

I followed his pointing finger and saw it. It was a ship. It had a white glow that was as bright as the moon, and it gave me chills to see it. The sails were full and headed straight for us. I watched it move straight through a sandbar without pausing. It stopped about thirty feet off the shore, and I saw people moving on the decks. The ship was glowing white, but the people looked normal. We watched as they loaded four glowing rowboats and rowed towards us.

“You can leave if you want,” Mr. Wickman said. “No one’s going to force you.”

I said nothing. I tried to imagine my father standing on this beach while ghosts rowed towards him. Did he collect ghost stories because he needed an answer to this weirdness, or did he collect them try to repeat the strange feeling I was having? Although the glow of the unnatural ship disturbed me, I found myself oddly elated. This was exciting. Ten years was almost short enough to justify living in this small town.

The pirates landed on the beach and disembarked. God, they were beautiful. They were a mixture of races: white, black and a few Asians. All of them were as pale as their ship as if they had never felt the touch of the sun. They smiled at us with knowing, confident smiles that were a little disturbing. They were hungry to see us.

Their clothes were a mix of colors and styles. Some wore bikini tops, while others were ragged shirts that blew in the bay wind. A few wore tight pants, but most of them wore torn shorts, small bikini bottoms or worn dresses. The colors were bright and festive with the occasional white skull-and-crossbones motif. They looked as though their clothes came from a pirate musical, rather than like the rags worn by real pirates.

The pirates stayed by their boats while their leader came to us. She had to be their leader. Tall and arrogant, she carried herself with a regal demeanor that wasn’t used to being denied. Her long red hair flowed out from underneath a black scarf that covered her head. Gold hoops hung from each ear and caught the moonlight. The black bikini top she wore had two white skulls on each breast. Other than leather boots and a belt with a scabbard, she wore no other clothing. Her sex was hairless, and I couldn’t help following the lines of her powerful thighs to that bare treasure.

“Greetings, Captain,” Mr. Wickman said. “Congratulations on your promotion. Our last meeting was with Captain Winter.”

The redhead smiled. “She fell during the sacking of The Green City. I am Captain Tempest. Are you ready to honor the pact we formed so many moons ago?”

Mr. Wickman nodded. “Gladly. Did you bring the special ale?”

“Why, of course,” Captain Tempest said. “We have sailed through many oceans, and I wouldn’t want to exhaust you all in a single hour.”

She waved to her women and they brought forth a curious keg. The barrel glittered and made a metallic sound when they set it on the log we were sitting on. Captain Tempest tapped the keg and poured a bubbling liquid into a mug. She handed the mug to Mr. Wickman who drank it all in one long tip of the cup. When he finished, the pale ladies actually cheered.

“Cannon squad, here you go!” Captain Tempest yelled. A group of women cheered again and dragged the happy Mr. Wickman away to molest him near the rowboats. I didn’t know what was stranger: seeing Mr. Wickman happy or seeing a group of young women ripping off the old man’s clothes in frenzied lust.

One by the one the rest of my father’s friends took a drink from the mug. After each drink, another group of women would drag them away to happily assault their bodies. When my turn came, I was surprised to only see four women left with the Captain. I took the mug from the Captain’s hands and drank the fizzy liquor. It tasted like cherries and garlic.

“As Captain, I claim the finest cut of the spoils and the largest division,” the redhead gloated. “I also claim first cut. Come here, boy!”

I tried to object to being called a boy, but there was no time. The Captain pulled me to her and crushed my lips to hers. The boots made her taller than me, but it was still a bit embarrassing to be dipped and kissed like a movie heroine. I couldn’t say a word as her lips breached mine and her tongue plundered my mouth. When she finally broke the kiss, she dropped my breathless body to the sand.

“Take off your pants,” the Captain commanded.

I tried to sit up, but the heel of her boot pinned my chest to the sand. She forced me to wriggle and shift my hips lewdly as I tried to remove my pants. The other pirates laughed and then clapped as they saw my erection spring from my underwear. My cheeks burned with humiliation as Captain Tempest appraised me.

“My, my, your sword is indeed worthy of note,” she said. “A little thick for my tastes but it’ll help compensate some for your lack of experience. Don’t act so surprised. You kiss little better than a virgin.”

I was going to deny her but something told me she would know better. She stood over my body and swayed her hips back and forth. Her companions urged her to drop down, and Captain Tempest enjoyed teasing them as much as she enjoyed teasing me. She danced above me as light from the fire flickered on her pale skin.

“Damnation, it has been too long,” she said at last. The Captain fell to her knees and made me cry out as her firm bottom landed on my cock. I gripped the sand in my arousal, knowing somehow that actually touching her would not be allowed.

Captain Tempest grabbed my cock. She slipped me inside her, and my moan was lost in the night wind. She rode me with a vigorous need. Back and forth she fucked me, and her face transformed into a savage grimace of desire. Her expressions frightened me, and I could see her swinging across a deck and dealing carnage to some victim’s ship. I don’t know how my father could ever doubt that these ladies really were pirates.

She fucked me. Her hands grabbed my shirt as if they were reins. The redhead’s thighs gripped my waist, and the heat of her sex convinced me that she couldn’t possibly be a ghost. No ghost could be that wet. No dead woman could be warm inside. No spectral entity could have breasts that jiggled so much within their tight bikini top.

“Yes!” Captain Tempest cried. She looked down at me and laughed heartily as she brought herself to another orgasm and another and another. I could only clench the sand as my cock came so achingly close to its own ejaculation but strangely never did. I hadn’t lasted this long in my two previous experiences with sex, and yet tonight I was stuck on the edge of my orgasm.

After a long, sensuous ride, Captain Tempest finally stopped. The other ladies were quiet as the redhead tried to catch her breath. I was only interested in the rise and fall of her bosom.

“I’m done for now,” the redhead said. “You can have your turn now.”

Captain Tempest rose from my cock. What she said didn’t even register with me. I was so turned on from not climaxing; I wasn’t able to think straight. Only when I felt the grab of a dozen hands did I realize that I was now at the mercy of the other pirates.

Two mouths fought for my mouth while hands and mouths roamed over the rest of my body. I shared a kiss with a demanding black woman and a hot-breathed blonde that left my lips tingling from the assault. A hand cupped my balls while a mouth consumed my cock. I cried out from a pinch of my nipples, but the blonde bit my lower lip and choked my cries.

The black woman pushed the blonde away and pressed me to her abundant breasts. I took her nipple in my mouth as her breasts smothered me. The blonde wouldn’t be stopped. She nibbled on my neck, biting around the base of my scalp as the black woman kept me pinned to her breasts. Eventually, the black woman pulled me away from her tits but only so she could push me into the bosom of the blonde. The blonde’s breasts were smaller, but I did my best to please her.

Back and forth I was traded between their breasts until one frustrated pirate broke the chain. A pale brunette pulled me from their grips and dragged me a couple of feet until we collapsed into the sand. The other pirates laughed and didn’t take her urgent desire personally. The brunette lay on her back and pulled my cock to between her legs. Her thighs wrapped around my waist and hooked under my butt. With my ass exposed, the other ladies wasted no choice to give my buttocks a casual slap with their hands.

The brunette said something I didn’t understand. Her accent was Germanic and very thick, but I could understand her meaning easily enough. I pushed into her, and she rose to meet me. Our hips came together a hundred times as we fucked in the sand. The other pirates sat and watched us, touching themselves and each other. Even Captain Tempest sat on the log and touched herself. Our eyes met and the redhead’s hand moved faster between her legs.

The brunette groaned under me and her hands clawed my shirt. I fucked her like her body demanded and yet I still did not climax. That didn’t stop her, though. She buckled under me, smiling the entire time as her eyes widened in pleasure. Some of the other ladies climaxed as well, and their moans echoed down the bay.

“I’ll share you with him, Kyoko,” a tiny blonde announced. She grabbed me by the hair and pulled me flat onto the sand and out of the brunette’s warm thighs.

“Good idea,” an Asian beauty said. She was wearing a red skirt with a white bodice that was indecently open to reveal her pale breasts. She stood over my erection and lifted her skirt to reveal a lack of underwear. As her Captain had done before her, she impaled herself on me, and once again I trembled as we connected.

“Save your mouth,” the blonde said. She kicked off a tight pair of white shorts and sat upon my face. Her sex pushed against my mouth, and I could smell the salt of the sea on her furry bush. The blonde’s hands gripped my hair and fucked my face without a concern for my ability to breathe. To speed her along her climax, I opened my mouth and licked for all I was worth. I sucked on her lips and my tongue pushed deep into her, much to her delight. The tiny blonde’s hips gyrated and smeared her desire all over my face.

The other pirate ladies came back to my body, and I could feel them touching the two who were mauling me. Worse, I could hear them, but I couldn’t see them because the tiny blonde’s thigh encased my face. I couldn’t see who was sucking a breast so loudly. I couldn’t tell who had stuck their finger up the tiny blonde’s anus, forcing her to squeeze tighter around my face. Someone took my hand and pushed it into her sex, guiding my fingers into buried treasure. Someone else took my other hand and pressed it to her breast. I squeezed the plump flesh and tried to guess which of the beautiful ladies I was groping.

In this manner, they traded me among themselves. The black woman placed me in her ass, and I fucked her till her cheeks clenched thankfully around me. The blonde who’d bitten me earlier made me go down on her, and she climaxed only when I bit down on her swollen clit. The pale brunette pulled me onto her twice more, climaxing harder each time I fucked her. The tiny blonde took my cock deep into her while the Asian fed me her breasts. Captain Tempest took her turn again, this time crushing my mouth to her ass while my fingers brought her off to a thundering climax. No matter whom I fucked or in what combinations, I never climaxed.

“The moon is falling,” Captain Tempest said. “It is time.”

The pirate ladies groaned, but in good cheer, they flipped me onto my back. Captain Tempest placed my head on her lap and pulled down the cups of her bikini top. Her pale breasts were ripe above my mouth, but I lacked the strength to take one in my lips. She played lazily with my hair as the other pirate ladies descended on my cock. I shuddered as five mouths kissed and sucked on the skin of my cock. Captain Tempest gently held me down as I moaned and writhed.

“The ale allows for great endurance, but only for a few hours,” Captain Tempest said. Two sets of lips were on the tip of my cock, and I could feel their mouths bouncing my cock between them. Another mouth was on my balls, and two were licking up and down the length of my sensitive shaft.

“The final burst will be intense but pleasurable,” Captain Tempest said. “Listen.”

The beach had become deathly quiet. Instead of laughter and cheers, there was now just the sound of dozens of mouths kissing and licking. There was a pause in the air as the men of tonight’s party waited for their reward.

One mouth sucked all of my cock into her throat for a quick swallow. Another mouth bit my thighs. Three mouths sucked on the base of my cock while the tip bounced on someone’s cheek. Captain Tempest stroked my hair lovingly as my eyes clenched in pleasure.

“There he blows!” the captain joked. My orgasm was amazing. Sensitized for so many hours, I shook all over as I finally released the tension that had been restrained for too long. My seed splashed on lips, tongues and cheeks and seemed to explode for forever. The ladies didn’t even flinch though I heard giggles and laughter as they cleaned me with their mouths. Then they cleaned each other with their mouths, as I lay helpless on Captain Tempest’s lap.

“You are young,” she said. “Usually, the men we meet are old. Their fathers jealously keep us to themselves and passing the secret on only when they die. Oh, there are the men we capture, but they usually aren’t in shape to fuck once we have beaten them in battle. I’m half tempted to take you with us as my cabin boy. How would you like that, sailing with us on the Astral Main? There are ports you would never believe and treasures you couldn’t imagine. It’s been decades since we last had a cabin boy, and I think you could warm my bed quite well.”

Before I could answer, the other men approached us. Mr. O’Neil and Sheriff Stevens were holding Mr. Wickman up between them. Mr. Meyers was smiling; For the first time since I’d known him, he looked relaxed.

“Captain, it has been a pleasure,” he said. “It’ll be a long ten years before you come back again.”

He was right. I thought about the distant places she talked about. I thought about sitting here like Meyers, waiting for ten years just to be used again. I thought about my father and why he’d stayed in town and kept me here too.

“Yes, I’ll come,” I told Captain Tempest.

The men tried to stop me, but it was useless. The swords the women carried weren’t just props. Sheriff Stevens tried to reason with me until Mr. O’Neil pulled him away. I think he understood. I think they all did.

They waved as Captain Tempest’s women rowed me to the galleon.

  8 Responses to “Fiction: The Treasure of Wenches’ Cleft”

  1. Wow! That was quite an adventure! I loved it!

  2. Nice story… one that promises to contine if you want. :)

  3. Green eyes- Thanks.

    Jaenelle- I don’t know if any story I can write would be as good as the promised adventures that await.

  4. Hmmm interesting story… but was Amaya on the boat?

    Sorry… still in withdrawal. You understand. ;)

  5. Really impresed with the scope of your imagination on this one, Shon.

    Nice to see the ladies get some face time haha.

  6. Oy! I’m going to drag my pirate away from WoW right now & set sail for a deserted island! arrr,…

  7. Lara- Amaya will have her own booty problems tomorrow morning.

    Wrygirl- Thank you. If you thought ladies got face time today wait till tomorrow.

    Tragic- You go board him right now matey!

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