Today’s snippet, titled “The Lotus Harem of Katapesh?”, is a piece I wrote about my PC in Paul’s new pirate themed Pathfinder Campaign.
      Be forewarned, there may be mature themes and naughty language below.
– – – – – – – – – – –
      Dinner was an awkward affair.
      The captain never ate with the crew so the captain’s table belonged to Kiskaeyn. She had been with Captain Faur for fifteen years and he trusted her implicitly; or so she said, because to be frank, Lorenzo had not seen the Captain for more than an hour total, spread out in dozens of glances over eight weeks. His wife, the ship’s surgeon, had been the one to stitch Kiskaeyn’s face back together after the battle in which she had nearly died. Sawbones Faur, as the crew affectionately called the captain’s missus, had told the gory story at least three times since Lorenzo and Red boarded. Took me near four hours to stitch her lips back together; lost three crew in that fight, and Gimpy Wormdinger over there lost his foot because I was too busy trying to save our Kiskaeyn, here.
      Sawbones Faur had emerged from the stateroom to sit at Kiskaeyn’s table several times, but tonight – dammnit! – she was absent. Lorenzo would have gladly endured a fourth telling of the First Mate’s disfigurement if it had meant having a buffer between he and Kiskaeyn. Red was not much help in that regard. He was either entirely taciturn in social situations or utterly inappropriate. Either way, his contributions would not wriggle them out of their predicament.
      Non, he thought with an internal sigh. We are going to have to take her to bed after all – cannot dodge those lusty eyes forever.
      As two of the swabbies cleared away dishes from the captain’s table, Lorenzo was fairly certain he heard them snickering. He glanced at the First Mate, with that hideous facial scar, and knew immediately why they were not more upset about having to perform the Cook’s Apprentice’s duties tonight. Better to be serving slop and washing dishes than to be tapping that keg. He shuddered.
      Red was telling her the story of the jalap root and both Kiskaeyn and the second-in-command, a beefy dwarf called Jakuz, were laughing raucously. He managed to chortle at the appropriate places, but his attention was diverted as Kiskaeyn’s hand moved steadily up his thigh.
      “Another cup?” Jakuz asked, holding up a pitcher of black beer.
      It was probably the best he had ever consumed, but Lorenzo had to cover his mug and shake his head. He managed a smile and a plausible lie. “Non, mon frere. I thank you, but non. Too much beer will put me right to sleep and I think I have a long night ahead of me.”
      The dwarf sniggered and filled his own cup. He knew exactly the sort of evening to which Lorenzo could look forward.
      “Gonna sit up a bit, Kis. Mind if I occupy your table?”
      “Please do, number two,” she said, waving her hand graciously. “I’m gonna ask our esteemed guests to escort me back to my cabin.”
      Red hopped up, immediately moving behind her to pull out her chair. The look he gave Lorenzo from behind her back was priceless; tongue out, eyes bulging, nose scrunched up. He gave a lewd thrust of his hips too, though he composed myself just in time bow deeply as Kiskaeyn turned to thank him for his manner. Lorenzo found the whole dance surreal.
      This was not a pirate ship; it was a legitimate cargo vessel making its regular runs between Jalmaray and Eleder. The crew were rough – as sailors were wont to be – but they were mostly a good lot. A few had cruel streaks, a few enjoyed fighting a bit more than was acceptable in polite company, and some certainly anticipated repelling pirates with relish rather than dread. Still, Lorenzo knew that for a company to be as successful and enduring as this one, it had to be free of a true criminal element or at least – had to contain only those criminals the captain could trust.
      They were not prisoners here, in fact, they did not really even have to work as hard as they did. But the crew was short-handed and both Red and Lorenzo were eager to keep active on the interminable voyage. Having nothing to do but lie about for upwards of six months did not thrill either of them.
      Yet he felt as if he had been press-ganged by pirates tonight. Thrown to the sharks with a thousand tiny slices upon his body. Waiting to walk the plank. Anticipating a gruesome end that he most assuredly deserved.
      “Lead the way boys, my cabin is all the way at the back.” Kiskaeyn slapped Red’s ass. The resounding clap was so loud half the crew turned from their grog and gruel to watch. A few cheered as the First Mate – a woman so fuck-all ugly that Lorenzo was fair certain he would rather stick his dick in a box of live crabs than have to try and maintain an erection while looking at her – lead her conquests out of the mess hall.
      She sashayed in front of them, despite her command to lead the way. He supposed she knew neither of them were in a position to deny her; she was just the type to have them ‘accidentally’ tossed to the open sea if they offended her.
      Her body isn’t bad, he decided. Broad hips, narrow waist, nice thick thighs that could clench a man half to death. Not much by way of tits, but what does that matter if I do her from behind? Maybe I’ll get through this without a hit of the juice. Lorenzo could feel the tingle of anticipation building in his balls and he let a smile cross his lips. This won’t be so bad. We’ll give it to her good and proper even if I gotta put a bag over that nasty fucking face of hers.
      “Ren,” Red whispered, leaning close. “You got the juice?”
      He patted his pocket where a tiny vial resided. He had retrieved it from his bunk before dinner, knowing full well where the evening was headed. A potent mixture of two libido-stirring herbs; he had never needed it before but he knew its properties well. He might have laughed at the memory of his great-grandfather’s instructions – Learn to make this one, Renny, though if you’re like me you won’t need it even when you’re old as dirt. Why? Because sometimes the ladies want to dance more than once without waiting in line. If only the situation had not seemed so tawdry.
      “Just in case.”
      “Gimme a hit anyway,” Red hissed, holding out his hand. “I like the way it makes me feel.”
      Tongkat’ali to refocus the blood flow and stir the desire. Schisanandra to relax the body and stiffen the prick. A drop or two of quality qat for euphoria. Honey to kill the flavor of the other three. It was not a concoction to take lightly.
      “Ready?”
      Kiskaeyn opened the door, but stood blocking their view. She wet her lips – thick and just as hideously scarred as the rest of her face – with her tongue. On another face, it would have been inviting.
      “Yuh.” Red said.
      “Good. C’mon in.”
      She pushed the door open and moved through. Billowing smoke wafted past her. Beyond, there were several bodies in various states of undress, writhing and moaning upon a sea of pillows. Lorenzo blinked.
      Have I just walked into the Lotus Harem of darkest Katapesh?
      “Well? Are you coming?” Kiskaeyn’s voice was somewhat impatient. “I haven’t got all night.”
      Red and Lorenzo exchanged glances once more. The half-orc held his palm out, grinning. Lorenzo could practically read his thoughts – there was more than one cunt in that room and surely one of them would be suitably fuckable.
      “We are coming,” Lorenzo said, daubing three drops into Red palm’s, then doing the same to his own. He licked it clean. “Oui madam, we are coming indeed.”
– – – – – – – – – – –

Note: Image is “Skull” by (George Crux) and “Black Cuffs” by (Andrzej Pobiedzinski) from SXC.hu; edited by me