Monster Pirate Whores Ch 03

PREVIOUSLY ON MPW: The monster crew decided they were running low on food, so Captain Jyne goes whale hunting. Everyone else has to deal with horny and a few new appendages that popped up.

********************

Monster Pirate Whores 03: The Devil's Cock

Days At Sea: 5

Brisk wind filled all yards of sail, from jib to mizzen. The black heart on a field of crimson of the Black Heart Pirates flapped proudly in the air atop the Main, the southern current of the Wylo Coast combined with enchanted Aoiran oak for a blinding swift forty knots. They'd had to swing wide of Stoborn at night, the infamous thick fog of the port letting them sail through without notice. The coast was cliffs and sharp reefs yards from the rocks, yet sailors risked hugging the coast for those precious knots it gave anyone moving south - risking suicide - a constant weight between teetering between speed and death.

"The milk is created thaumatically," Berry Cuddles said, newly acquired bovine throat and mouth making the words sound deep and echoey with expanded vowel sounds. Compared to other crew, the minotaur first mate (with tits the size of two dinghies) on the main deck wasn't having as many difficulties speaking as others. "I'm losing magical energy, I won't become dehydrated or sick, and in fact either the crew drinks me or we lose it over the side."

"Are you?...I don't want to sound indelicate, but if has been a few days," Jyne said, motioning towards Berry's naked minotaur immobile titness. "You are pregnant, naked and not going anywhere. Does this...bother you?"

"JC and Jiggles have taken care of me, including sanitation." Berry was not one to mince words or feelings, a stoic woman first and foremost. "This deck won't suddenly become the poop deck. Let's finish the job and I'll have more time to worry about everything then."

Jyne remained worried, but shrugged outwardly and moved on. "At least we can add milk to whale meat. However, you will run out of thaum eventually, and then what?" Jyne Argon tried running hands through her hair, only her fingers were webbed and she had frilly spikes of a lionfish instead of hair. The captain gave up in frustration, instead playing around with her eyepatch and trying to situated it again. "Need you to control your mammary expression."

"Harder than raising an anchor by hand. Producing milk is like gentle foreplay and every time I get suckled - five times a day - like being thrown against a table and..." Berry let out a shuddering lowing, bringing a wayward arm out from between her breasts and folding them resolutely on top of furry milk bags. "Sorry Captain, you have your own problems."

"Every girl on the ship has problems. Don't worry about me, no barnacles off my hull," Jyne replied, unwilling to swab her wet lower deck no matter what or who the other crew did.

*mmmMMMMFFFFffrrrrrr*

Jyne closed her eye, choking on a moan when her posture became stiff as a plank. Somewhere on the ship, above or below, a girl orgasmed. And whenever that happened, Jyne shared a piece of it. A shock, a tickle, a contraction, it gave her the tantalizing leftovers of cumming without build up or release. A secondhand orgasm. Not edging or part of an climax: going through the motions without catharsis. It was maddening. For two days she resisted the siren call and kept her clam closed. And even if she needed to be tied to the keel she would continue a forced chastity. She had no other choice if she wanted to protect the crew.

When Jyne recovered control of her libido, she opened her eye to a concerned cow that was also her friend resting bodily on top of massive tits.

"Jyne, you need to cum," Berry said quietly in concern so others in the crew wouldn't hear. "There are a few girls that grew futa if you want penetration, but you can't keep doing this to..."

"What if I caused this?" Jyne hissed, gesturing towards everything. "What if the next time I tiddle my clittle I kill us all? Or make use more monster? Or more animal?" Jyne yanked at a fin flopping where her ears used to exist. "Last time I orgasmed the world turned us into the freakin' circus. I'll worry about my blue womb after we plunder the Unamite and enjoying a round of drinks. We nab that swag and retire like queens,

then

I will hire a harem of burly men with oiled chests and thick dicks to read silly romance serials while I don't spend a waking moment suffering empty twat syndrome."

Berry didn't reply, reaching out with a three fingered hand onto rainbow scales that may have been physically different, but Jyne felt the love and respect through Berry's touch. Once human, now a minotaur and...Jyne didn't know her own species, but an anthropomorphic cross of a lionfish and parrotfish...they were still friends. People.

Monsters are people, right?

Jyne asked herself just as Tops screeched from the crow.

"Devil's Cock, starboard bow!"

Miles of peninsula erected into the ocean, it was a massive black cock of barren stone ejaculating frothy current into the Blue Expanse. The uneven Wylo coast always made the appearance of the Cock a surprise to any sailor, Krizz hugging sheer rocky cliffs to push as much speed from the current into the

Scorned Lover

as possible. Immensely dangerous, but juicy booty only came to those who grabbed both cheeks. At this part of Bronelle continent, the looming jagged black coastline stretched generally south south west, a straight line on maps from the demonic Dark Cliffs, past Faluss and the barren Wylo until it rounded west after Yrlmuh and became the Boiling Salts. The only oddity of note between Stoborn and Yrlmuh was the Devil's Cock.

"Avast all you cunning linguists!" Captain Jyne roared, her transformed voice sounding like a prima donna at the opera rather than a scurvy dog. Clothing was everyone's problem, including the Captain, wearing only a crude wrap around her bust and a skirt that was once a blouse. She made up for lack of menace by drawing her spare cutlass and waving the blade around while shouting orders. "Get yer noses out of yer muffs and prepare the chains! Ready the sweeps! Move, you clap-chapped flappy-camel cunt-creamed sorry excuses for buttered-baby-biscuits!"

"Aye aye!" responded the crew, energized knowing that now they were at the Cock, the action was soon to come.

"Are you sure we can handle the Cock?" Berry asked Jyne while the captain climbed the quarterdeck, the magus first mate moving her fingers to summon mystical energy and disperse it into the hull, strengthening the enchantments laid down by faun craftsmen. "This place was a deathtrap even when we didn't have widespread transmogrification to worry about."

"None of us changed in ways that matter," Jyne replied, speaking loudly while standing at her table and weighted down charts, the harsh breeze whipping her fins in a frenzy but leaving the parchment. "We are free and we will remain free!"

So long as we don't sink,

Jyne thought, the rush of current aiming them directly into the the graveyard of thousands of ships, the Devil's Cock and beyond that, Ktherbe's Mouth.

********************

"MrrRRMMmmRRrrrMMAAEEerRRr?" Lorryn Dawnstrider (yes, heir of the Dawnstrider Company) asked, shark mouth bristling teeth like a barrel of swords mangling any attempt of speech outside of water. Didn't stop the young and previously talkative merchant heiress who adventured on the wrong pirate ship constantly asking questions no one could translate.

"Use yer slate!" Stef said, flying her knockout pixie self into the board hanging around the burly sharkgirl's...well, Lorryn didn't have a neck anymore, swallowed by trapezius muscles as abnormally swoll as the rest of her body, but hanging off Lorryn's shoulders.

The pair of mismatched monstrous girls were starboard side, across the deck from Berry and her boobs, loitering near working girls busy securing riggings and hauling or stowing materials through the central aperture between decks. The crew were an active hive, each furious to follow Captain's orders, making the quaint inactivity between a poet turned muscled shark and a dwarf turned vivacious pixie the odd ones out.

Lorryn grumbled inarticulately, but she carefully - three broken slates in as many days, her new strength difficult to manage - pulled a bit of chalk from the ruined strips of a cloak she used as a tube top and wrote on the slate with a concise and delicate calligraphy:

What is Devil Peepee?

"That," Xorli said, thumbing towards jutting cliffs and rocks the ship raced towards, her other hand hauling up thick chains to the deck from where Zera and Zari passed them up (the twinned giantess stuffed in the hold because she was too big for the main deck). Miles of black rock leading into a massive cove, the roar of the wind drowned by crashing currents as the giant futa orc hauled yards of thick chain with each link the size of a girl's head. A human girl's head. "Most dangerous coast outside of the Leviathan Breeding Iceflows."

"They say it is da actual Devil's prick stick, frozen since 'fore da Pantheons or ev'n da Status," Stef said with a thicker accent, her excitement blooming into regional speech. The pixie's grand effort to tell a tale spoiled when her wings bumped her wrapped dress loose and her boobs sprang free, the former napkin fluttering to the ground and leaving a pristine succulent tiny goddess of lust unfettered in the air.

Please tell?

Lorryn wrote, her eager shark face terrifying as she sat the deck like a child ready for bedtime.

"Not like we're busy or anything, ya dolly lickers," Xorli said, heaving the last of the chains to the deck and adjusting the tight girdle of sailcloth straining to keep her own trouser titan out of the way.

"Slurp my fairy-friggin' cunny-honey, ya lumberin' excuse fer a lassie-knob-nozzle!" Stef buzzed up into the orc's tusked face and ranted, the effect lost as the former dwarf realized she was naked and horny, her nonsensical triad losing some fire. "Not like I ken lift much an' Lor might trip an' sink da whole ship wid her luck! We got time 'fore we reach da Cock an' if'n we don' tell da new girl, we'd all be cursed!"

"...I preferred you as a surly dwarf instead of a surly pixie," Xorli growled, the quartermaster rolling her eyes and assisting other girls attach the chains to large brackets bolted to the side of the ship.

Stef nodded with typical irritation, swooping down and gathering her napkin and trying to fit unfamiliar curves into place while facing the young poet turned shark. "Anyway, da Cock. Long 'fore anythin', da Devil came ta da world an' started screwin' everythin'. Goats, dragons, rocks, funny lookin' shrooms. A potent guy, he birthed all da races. Just cummin' doom-splooge in any pussy shaped hole around! Well, after a hundred years, da Devil got post-nutty an' decided ta kill all his spawn. However, even if der was no Pantheon, there were gods. One o' dem was Ktherbe, da mother o' all demonics. She loved her kids, so she met da devil and made a bargain."

Stef's voice took on a high pitched prissy tone, sounding more airheaded than feminine. "Looker here, Devil me lad: for da lives o' our children, I challenge ye ta a duel! As dis is 'bout yer fetid seed, we shall struggle in cum. Whoever ejaculates more crank cream decides da fate o' de world!

"Da devil laughed, seein' Ktherbe clearly possessed no twat trowel 'tween her legs an' thinkin' dis would be a quickie an' den onto murderin'." Stef puffed up significant cleavage and squinted eyes in mocking evil while lowering her voice to dainty alto. "Yarharhar! I agree ta yer terms, if'n only 'cause I cannot lose ta a dickless whore! Suck malicious meat an' choke 'fore I burn dis world!"

Stef grew more excited as she delved into her performances, tiny face flushed as she heaved her chest to gather herself. Lorryn presented the dichotomy of a skeptical fish to the performing pixie. Stef doubled down and shouted against the roar of the ocean and ship.

"But da Devil was deceived! Fer dis was no corner biddy, no dime dolly diety! She was, like,

escort

material. Premium face-throatin' fellationistic slob-job swallower! Hundreds o' years she gobbled da Devil's gravy-goober-shooter an' edged him into balls so blue dey make sapphires look limp and gray! Howev'r, not even a goddess could edge for eternity, one day da Devil jerking dem red hips forward and delved dat monster past da esophagus and mancano-ed with an eruption shakin' all Evma. But when he came, dat is when Ktherbe began ta

suck!

She sucked so long and hard da Devil could not stop cummin'. Unendin' fiend fudge frothin' out into da goddess' bilge belly, yet not ev'n a goddess ken choke down all dat seminal yogurt. Splooge spills out, which is what causes da currents."

The ship rounded the edge of the cliffs, opening up a grand view of a whirlpool draining to the black depths miles wide. It was daunting to view something so immense that could eat the entire ship like a girl eating a grain of rice, whether for the first time or any other time the girls witnessed the Mouth. The high and sheer cliffs of the cove dropped into the water where strong current sucked into an emptiness light did not touch. Raging waves crashed in the spiral higher than tsunamis onto sharp igneous. Counter clockwise it spun, the speed and rush of water creating a jutting, foamy torrent that

ejaculated

along the curved peninsula of the Cock and bukkaked into the ocean.

Lorryn studied this mother of all whirlpools and suddenly scrunched her face up, writing her question on the board.

Why spinning wrong?

Stef shrugged, the effort causing her wings to stall and dropping a few feet before recovering. "Pro'ly da Wylo Disaster. Lots o' crazy stuff started all through da miles o' black glass dat is Wylo, metareality all wonky. Dey say it really is da goddess down dat hole, dat really is da Devil's Cock and if'n she ever stops suckin', da world will end. Der's an old shrine on da cliffs, from when demonics ruled da entire Bronolle continent 'stead o' bein' shoved inna north by Falussans, 'cause demonics still worship Ktherbe instead o' da Pantheons. Sensible people stay aways from dis place entirely, but sailors an' pirates know not ta rock da boat. I keep sayin' we need ta make a proper off'rin' else one day da goddess decide ta swallow."

"Outta the way!" Xorli shouted, shoving past the two layabouts, chain in hand as a tide swell pushed the ship inches from the rocks and into the air a dozen feet, revealing cleverly disguised hooks embedded into the rocks. The quartermaster threw her chain as seven other groups of girls tossed theirs as well, most snagging onto the hooks before the swell dropped the ship back down and the chains snapped taut to hold the ship in place. When Lorryn looked overboard, she saw other crew using oars to press against the rocks and prevent the ship pulverizing itself. "We're secure, Captain!"

"Capital work, Ms. Xorli!" Jyne said from the quarter, using a compass to mark out intervals upon the charts. "I estimate our target will arrive any minute. Ms. Breakhammer, storytime is over: I need you mixing alchemy for the guns. Also, because Ms. Tops can fly now, I want her at the Head and give us proper warning this time instead of when we botched the Potentate raid."

Lorryn heard the ring of

aye ayes!

from the crew and for the first time felt a thrill of being a part of something larger, so infectious was the excitement on the

Scorned Lover.

********************

Tops was aware of her mental and attention-retention shortcomings. Youth spent in a circus containing an isolated tent where questions were not asked to paying customers, the acrobat lost her innocence but not her good humor. Other's in the circus did their best to protect the bubbly redhead because they wanted to minimize the trauma, but Tops knew what her life had been. She understood and chose to find happiness in the freedom of the the high wires and now the crow. She also enjoyed Krizz, doubly loved when the gobbo grew her green lady sausage! Tops really enjoyed sausage the last time they were in Yrlmuh.

Sometimes her mind wandered...

"I am disappointed clouds do not taste like cake," Tops squawked aloud, snapping her beak in an effort to chew clouds and finding it tasting like gritty water. Bending her shoulder, she banked left and fell from the sky. Air plastered her brilliant azure feathers and the girl whooped as she discovered the new freedom of the open sky, beating her wings once to level off and hover over the hot ocean air rising above the Cock.

"What am I supposed to do?" Tops asked, struggling to remember what the Captain wanted, idly spinning in the air and thinking about going towards another cloud and seeing what

that

one tasted like. "I'm on lookout, I know that, I'm not dumb, but am I looking for another whale so we can have more food? Maybe we can make whale sausage! Have I ever had whale sausage?"

*ffffFFFFFWWWWSHHHhhhh!*

"Yeep!" Tops flipped around in the air, narrowly missing green alchemical cannon fire as it exploded above her. The shock and heat threw her into an uncontrolled plummet towards the rocks of the Cock, causing red and yellow fireballs to explode where she had been flying. Adjusting new harpy eyes after flapping for all she was worth and coming out of the spin, Tops spotted three ships weighing anchor and opening sail, hiding against the tip of the Cock. She couldn't make out the flags, but they didn't look like merchant ships as a barrage of alchemical balls flew in her direction.

"Cannon fire port side!" Hiri Rihi yelled from the rigging of the

Scorned Lover,

the ship only two miles west of the action. The Eastern Potentate accent still came through despite looking mostly a bear now, Hiri unfurling wide bat wings and flapping to the air, making to assist Tops.

"Alchemy colors are too distinct for one ship: three or four at least, and those explosions are military ordinance," Qiv said from the deck, handing the spyglass back up to Captain Jyne on the quarter. An orc of of the Gnashing Teeth tribe and War Sister to Xorli, Qiv took transitioning into a long glowing eel fatalistically. Embracing the clothing shortage, pert tits hanging in the air, the once orc couldn't stop tangling her body around into knots. As one of Stef's gunners, she was the expert on deck for anything alchemical.

"They have an escort?" Daizine Hardcunt asked, measuring powder into her pistol before chanting the alchemy active and adding the lead ball carefully after with a patch and rod. The stalwart older woman was the only member of the crew that didn't need to change her clothing, remaining human shaped. She

did

wear loose pants to stow a newly grown pelvis plank, though.

Jyne pursed her...with irritation, she remembered she didn't possess lips anymore, only a slit along her face opening into needled teeth. Through the glass she spied three ships round the peninsula tip lean into the current, making fast headway towards their position. "Breenan Royal Navy," she said like a noose wrapped around her neck, their blue and white striped colors clear while the largest ship was famous in any waters. "Two frigates that I'd bet my eye have thirty guns each. Those alone could take us in open water unless we got lucky. However, no mistaking Commodore Blothe's flagship,

Iustitiarius.

That behemoth runs two hundred guns, crews a thousand elite marines and can fight off an entire fleet. They'll be on us against the wind in twenty minutes. This was a trap from the beginning."