During the Age of Piracy, one pirate ship was the most feared. For two decades, the pirate ship "Wicked Pussycat", with an all-female crew led by the infamous Captain Blackbreast, was the scourge of the seven seas. Many governments and private companies sent ships out to capture the fierce captain and her crew, but none ever succeeded. Then, abruptly, the ship and its crew disappeared.
What had happened? Was the ship sunk with all hands in a sudden storm? Were they captured and killed by other pirates?
Nope, something much more mundane. After twenty years of piracy, with the captain and crew now in their forties, the Wicked Pussycat sailed to a hidden cove in Jamaica, where the captain and her crew were originally from. They had been sold together as slaves, risen up during the voyage and killed their enslavers, altered the ship for speed and storage, changed its name and become a band of pirates. After twenty years, it was time to retire. They unloaded all their treasure, divided it equally among themselves, disassembled and sunk the ship, and went their separate ways, each of them with enough money to live three more lifetimes.
For the most part, they blended back in and lived quiet lives. Captain Blackbreast herself, using her real name -- Serena Richards -- opened a small bar on the main commercial drag (she lived in the room behind it, part of the same building.) Serena's Bar didn't stand out as anything special: they served the usual types of alcohol and a bit of solid food. Some of Serena's old pirate companions would sometimes help out as bartenders or cooks. When the last customer of the evening was particularly attractive, Serena -- who had hit menopause the year before retiring as a pirate -- would lock the bar up early and take that customer (whether male of female) back to her quarters for some fun, if the customer was willing. Serena, despite being in her mid-forties, was still quite the looker. Her dark skin, brown eyes, black shoulder-length hair and toned body drew attention, as did her D-cup breasts that, while she was working, pushed up against her shirt.
One night, the last customer of the evening was a handsome white guy named Tom. He was a bit younger than Serena, in his mid-to-late thirties. He had short brown hair, brown eyes, and a muscular build, and he was several inches taller than her. She asked if he wanted to join her in her quarters, he accepted, and she closed the bar for the night. When they undressed, Serena noticed a scar on his flank.
"How'd you get the scar?"
"About 10 years ago, I was part of the crew on a ship hired by the British government to locate and capture Captain Blackbreast and her band of pirates. We had no trouble finding the Wicked Pussycat -- or rather, it found us. One foggy day, a ship suddenly loomed up next to us and boarded us. We fought hard, but Captain Blackbreast and her crew subdued all of us, tied us up, removed the treasure and valuables from our ship, then towed us to a nearby small island. There, they took down our sail, slashed a B in it, boarded the Wicked Pussycat, and sailed off. It took a couple of hours to free ourselves, and then we needed to repair the sail and put it back on the mast. By the time that was done, the Wicked Pussycat was long gone."
"So you got the wound in the fight. What would you have done if you had won the combat and captured the captain and her band?"
"I understand the captain was a gorgeous woman. I'd have stripped her and had some fun with her before putting her in captivity."
"Okay, now I'm curious. Pretend I'm the captain and you've captured me and stripped me. Do whatever you would have done to her, but obviously, don't hurt me."
