The Dread Pirate Peter

by Maureen Wynn & Susan McNeill
Copyright © 1996

After taking on Lusty Desert Sultans, Suz and I weren't quite... sated yet. So we thought we'd take on the high-seas bodice-ripper next. Herewith are the results...

We never quite finished this piece of fluff, but who knows? We just might, someday...

Peter's head drooped as he dozed on the sofa. Those double shifts at the station were wreaking havoc with his body's sleep-rhythms. He never seemed to be able to get to sleep when he came home, so he'd gotten in the habit of popping a videotape into the VCR, and watching until he got sleepy enough to go to bed. The movie continued to play as Peter slid deeper into sleep...

"I am the Dread Pirate Peter! And you, Miss Jody Powell, are my prisoner!"


The woman trembled at the sight of the virile man known as Pirate Peter. Though her plight was quite dire — bound to the thick mast of a pirate ship manned by lusty sex-starved sea men — she paused in her panic briefly to soak in the sight of the man before her. Billowing white silk shirt, gaping open to reveal a tanned muscular chest. Tight breeches showcasing his finer attributes of bulge and curve. Shiny leather boots caressed his leg well past his thighs to accentuate his...

"Well, fair maiden, " Pirate Peter oozed as his gaze rested upon her quite amble bossom, "It appears that I am your only savior in this dangerous gathering of lusty shipmates."

"You knave! You shall never have me!" The panting Miss Powell flipped her hair (got to have hair flippin') defiantly at the extremely sensuous captor before her.

"Uh huh," taunted the rogue as he sliced her bonds and tossed her struggling form over his shoulder.

She shrieked at this, enraged at the liberties this wastrel pirate was taking with her fair form. She wriggled in his grasp, attempting to escape his clutches, but his hands merely grasped her more tightly. She gasped in outrage (and perhaps something else...) as his hands clung firmly to her curves, keeping her stuggling body in place on his broad shoulder.

Suddenly, one of his hands was no longer sensuously pressed to her buttocks, and she almost fell. She peered over her shoulder to see what he was doing, and saw that he had pulled his sword out of its sheath. She gasped in horror to realize that he was holding the sword on one of his scruffier looking mates. "Out of my way!" he demanded. "This woman is mine!"

"Arrrr!" the other pirate responded, "You'll have to fight me for her, then! I have a yen for a little taste of..."

"No!" Pirate Peter shouted, interrupting the other sailor, "You'll not have a taste of this fair maid! Not while I live!" And so saying, he moved forward, engaging swords with the pirate.

The swords met, seasoning the sea air with their clashing sounds. Miss Jody shrieked, almost losing her balance on Peter's shoulder, then clutched at his silken shirt with both hands. She moaned in frustration, because she was facing the wrong way and couldn't see how the fight was going. Then she noticed that her view did include the sight of Peter's... fundament. The fair and virtuous Miss Powell blushed at the thought of the words for that beauteous portion of the pirate's anatomy that had immediately sprung to mind. Then her blush receded as her attention was drawn to said portion of anatomy, and she stared in wonder at the play of muscles under the snug breeches, lost in delight and the stirrings of desire...

Being the mightly swordsman that he was, Pirate Peter deftly vanquished his foe. Slicing the slimey seaman to ribbons and making a gift of him to the hungry sharks. The loyal mates of the pirate ship Stealth heaped shouts of praise and envy upon their roguish leader, in awe of his manly prowess. Not only could he defeat his foe single-handedly but grope fair maidens at the same time.

Leaving behind the cheers of his shipmate, Pirate Peter decended boldly down the dark stairway into his surprisingly plush cabin. After another lusty squeeze of Miss Powell's backside, he deposited his captive onto his downfilled mattress.

Though Miss Powell had been momentarily bewitched the more masculine attibutes of Pirate Peter's nether regions, she was STILL a virtuous maid. "Ye think that ye shall have you wanton way with me, sir? I think not. Not as long as I have breath and tooth and nail to combat thee with."

After dropping his heavily bejeweled belt to the floor, Pirate Peter bowed solicitously to the wary maiden. "Being now divest of my weapon, dear lady, I find myself at your mercy." He strode forward. In protection of her maidenhood (or maidenform...) Miss Powell leapt backward.

Aye, but fate and the billowing sea did conspire against her. Plopping her unceremoniously onto the rogue's sumptuous bed. Though, the maiden felt her gaze plant firmly onto the powerful loins of her intended master. His manhood doth inspire and incite me. Oh, please may the saints help me fight this delicious ache, thought the maiden in vain. Though protesting with her word, her flush and quiver gave her away.


The end...???

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