Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

The Only Rules That Matter: Exploration (TheCorsair, Madame Mim)

"Strawberries?" The sheer incongruity of it made him laugh. "All right, yeah. That makes sense. I don't think I've ever heard you just blurt out a demand for strawberries in the middle of sex. Or any other fruit, for that matter." Rising, he poured a second glass of rum and offered it to her. "Well, maybe that one time in Hawaii, when you told that one man you wanted to eat a fruit salad off him, but that was before you got going. And stop looking at me like that."

He offered her a toast, then knocked back half his glass. "Really, stop looking so... guilty. You're asking me to play a game with you, right? No different from the time you wanted me to be Captain Jack and claim you as my prize, right? Or that time you wanted me to take the paddle to you." He refilled his glass again. "You aren't asking me to actually hurt you, and you know how to tell me if it's too much, so... yeah." Lifting the glass, he winked. "Happy birthday."

Downing the glass, he finally put it down. "So, tell me more. How do you want this fantasy of yours to go down? Any elements in particular you want? I mean, it's your fantasy. What will make it the most fun for you?"
 
"I mean, I could tell you about all of my mid-passion fruit cravings," Jenny teased, still blushing at the embarrassment and giving him a look when she mentioned Akoni. She'd been grateful that she'd discovered earlier that day that pineapples could be cored and cut into rings. "You were the one who wanted to take me on vacation," she pointed out with a nervous giggle, toasting with him and drinking as he insisted she stop looking guilty. "Well these are, y'know...secrets that we've been keeping. That I've been keeping. It's a little bit mortifying, John."

But he reminded her that it was no different than any other time they'd gotten a little rougher than usual. Then John wished her a happy birthday and she gave him a genuine grin. "Well...I've always thought of about it as if I was...well, if I was alone, walking home. Maybe if you followed me for a while then pulled me into an alley and forced me against a wall. It's...it's a little violent...like if you held a knife against my throat."

It was still mortifying, telling him this secret she'd kept inside for so long. It had been buzzing around her brain for more than the forty years they'd been sleeping with other people. In the darkest parts of her heart she half-believed that she deserved something like this fantasy of hers for giving up on their vows of monogamy and for rejecting her natural death when it had come. But she had sworn to be with him forever, and this was forever, and it wasn't like she was going out and finding an actual stranger to do this to her.
 
"Pulled you into an alley and forced you against a wall," John mused. "With a knife."

He considered that. It sounded a little... extreme. The rougher scenes they'd played at had involved some level of pretend force, but never with threats involved. Well, not serious-sounding threats. A little bit of work with a whip, if they were feeling kinky, designed to 'break' the victim and get them to beg for sex. But, well, was the knife really that different? Since it was consensual? "I'll admit that this isn't a particular secret I've been keeping, myself," he finally replied. "Since we're confessing them, now. But it isn't my birthday we're talking about, is it?"

Standing up, he walked over to a chest and opened it. Rummaging around for a moment, he dug out a rough-used knife in a battered leather scabbard. "Something like this, I assume?" he said, tossing it onto the table. "I took it off some idiot a few years back, who thought he'd be able to scare me with it. Rough type, like what you'd get if your Russian had been swarthy, stocky, ugly, and stupid. Is that the kind of man in your fantasy? Or is he more posh?" He watched her expression, then smirked just a little. "Nope, I can see it in your reaction. Rough and hard, right? Just some brute of a man, forcing himself on you."

Tapping his fingers, he thought for a moment. "All right, here's my idea - and if you like it, we'll go ahead and start it off right here in New York. You go ashore under an assumed name, and get yourself a room. Pretend like you're scouting the talent. Hell, maybe even fuck someone while you wait. Then, sometime in the next week, while you're out on the street, I'll grab you." He looked her right in the eyes. "I'll say, uhm, 'yer mine, you Irish strawberry'. I mean, it's batshit insane sounding, but that way you know it's me and you know how hard to fight." He grinned. "Then I'll drag you off somewhere, as forcefully as I have to based on the way you struggle, and let you live out your fantasy."

He spread out his hands. "Like it? Shall we begin?"
 
"So...nothing at all like my Antosha?" she teased with a smile as she examined the knife. "It does look like something he would have, doesn't it?"

Anton had been as close to an actual boyfriend as she had ever come, meeting with him a few times a year and occasionally taking John along with her. They would go for dinner or to the playhouse or something similar; once he had taken her for a trip around the bay on his boat. She had liked him immensely, and was sad when after ten years he commented seriously about how long they had known each other and how she looked the same as the evening they had met. She had stopped seeing him after that, and last she heard he'd gone back to Moscow and was much happier with his second wife. She was sure that her absence probably had something to do with that. Still, they had tried going back to St. Paul once and one of his grandchildren had recognized her from stories he had told them as children. They had both played it off as coincidence and laughed about it, but that was enough to make her a little shy about going back to Alaska for the next decade or two.

"Yes, some big, stupid brute. I've had my fill for now of posh bastards who think they can take what they want because they're rich." Ben hadn't exactly been posh, but certainly of higher social regard, and she had spent the night with a few men over the years who had thought the same. "Give me someone who knows he can take whatever he wants because he's strong." She smirked and watched him think before laying out his plan. It was perfect.

~*~

"How much?"

"I beg your pardon?" Jenny was a little chilly in the early Spring evening as she waited on a street corner near what she knew was one of the more upscale brothels of the city. They'd been there a number of times over the years and were pleased with how well Drusilla had done for herself. Of course she was thought of as the "old madame" now, but considering the bedraggled little gutter whore they'd picked up thirty years ago and taught how to dress and act--between fucking her, of course--Jenny was very proud of how far she'd come. She'd gone to the brothel earlier to ask permission to look for business near the house since it was so well known for its upscale clientele, and because she'd reminded Dru so much of an old friend who had done so much for her she'd naturally been allowed to. A couple of backalley fucks against an old wooden fence and a blowjob on the hard pavement, but this man was what she'd been looking for. She didn't know where John was at the moment, but maybe watching her go out on a date with someone else might encourage the kind of jealous violence she was looking for.

"How much?" he repeated, before leaning in. "For your...services. I mean, you are with the House, are you not?" He inclined his head toward the townhouse where Dru did her business.

"Aye..." she answered slowly, "but how much depends on what it is you want, love. Man like you looks like he could show a girl a good time if he wanted. The missus too busy with her bridge club to come out with you?" He fidgeted with his hat and mumbled something under his breath and she smiled gently. "So it's the mistress experience then. We'll go to a play or a symphony or something, then it's back to the club to show off your prize to the boys while you play cards, and I show you exotic and unknown lands a few times, yeah?" Once he'd managed an embarrassed nod--clearly he hadn't done this often before, if at all--she smiled and took his arm and started walking with him as though they were a proper lady and gentleman out for an evening stroll. "Fifty dollars for the first three hours. May charge extra depending on what you want and how long you're gonna keep me, but I'll tell you beforehand if I do." The sun was barely beginning to set; she likely stood to get at least a hundred off the poor man before the night was through and John raped and robbed the whore.

"Well, that seems reasonable," the toff said, sounding relieved and indicating that he was wealthy enough she would get perhaps more than a hundred. Jenny smiled.

"I try to be. Name's Shannon Wiles."

"Montgomery," he returned. "But I've noticed you're...I mean...I don't mean to be rude, but could you try to be..."

"A little less Irish?" Jenny smiled though inwardly raged at the prejudice which still plagued her people here, even as she changed the way she held her mouth and tongue to imitate Cutler Beckett's accent. He had been posh, after all. "Get it all the time, love. I imagine your friends wouldn't be quite as impressed with an Irish whore, would they?" She smiled and winked as they passed John, who was casually leaning against a lamp post as though waiting for someone.

"Thank you." Montgomery sounded relieved. "I personally have nothing against you people, it's just--Ah! Thaddeus old man, how have you been?"

She was introduced as Miss Wiles, an up-and-coming socialite and daughter of a close family friend visiting from upstate, to the portly and prodigiously-mustached Thaddeus, monacled Archie, and John, the only man near Montgomery's age and an Englishman. John had also brought a young lady, introduced as his wife's niece though the two women exchanged knowing looks with one another. Somewhere near the aria Miss Winters disappeared from their box seat and John excused himself shortly after. Jenny for her part discretely slid her hand into Montgomery's lap and undid his trousers, using a handkerchief to make sure he didn't make a mess as the second act reached its climax. After the opera they retired to their gentleman's club, where Jenny pretended to know nothing about poker or how terrible a gambler Montgomery was and instead opted to sit on his lap and learn this man's game while providing him a generous view of her decolletage. Englishman John kept watching her in a way which reminded her of some sort of predatory animal, but she paid it no mind. She could kick his arse six ways to Sunday if he tried anything, and she'd seen her husband John following at a discrete distance and knew he could back her up if she for some reason couldn't handle the toff herself.

"Ooooh you're such a bad boy, Monty," Jenny moaned as she rode him on a creaky bed in the back room of the club, unaware that Englishman John lurked at the door to listen to them. "You're so naughty and wicked."

"Tell me how wicked I am, goddess," Montgomery begged, sitting up and burying his face in her breasts as he wrapped his arms around her middle.

"You're such a wicked man," she panted, gripping his hair and pulling so he was forced to look at her, "you deserve punishment."

"Punish me, goddess! Punish me so that I may learn to properly worship at your altar!"

Jenny slapped him sharply, earning a gasp and a look of shock from him. "Sounds an awful lot like you're trying to tell your goddess what to do," she said threateningly, burying his cock deep inside her but no longer moving on him.

"No, goddess!" he gasped, peppering her neck and breasts with kisses. "No, I would never! Please...!"

~*~

"Thank you for a very lovely evening, Miss Wiles," Montgomery said as they stood beneath a street light near Drusilla's brothel.

"Oh, thank you, Monty," Jenny returned, pocketing $300, twice what she'd asked.

"Tell me, may I...may I call on you again some time, Shannon?" He took both her hands in his and smiled genuinely at her. "I would like very much to take you to dinner. Do you like the ballet? The Russian Ballet is doing Don Quixote this Wednesday, if you would like, just you and me. I happen to like your natural accent much better." The way he smiled at her broke her heart.

"It's a date," she promised, squeezing his hands. A clock somewhere struck ten and she saw her husband over his shoulder waiting across the street. "But I'm afraid your wife is waiting for you, and it wouldn't do to keep her waiting up." She smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Wednesday, you naughty boy."

He turned his cheek so that he caught her lips and pulled her close. "Wednesday, goddess." With that Montgomery dashed off to be seen catching a handsome in a better part of town. Jenny turned to walk toward the slums and as she did saw that John had disappeared. She smiled and started humming quietly to herself, drawing her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she heard someone following her at a distance.
 
John lurked on the corner, rock hard as he watched Jenny take her leave of her client. To be perfectly honest, he hadn't anticipated this when he'd laid out his scenario. It really hadn't occured to him that she'd stop off at Dru's house - Madame Drusilla, now - and play at being a whore for a while. The first inkling he'd had of that little addendum to her birthday present had been when he'd been scoping out likely spots and come across her, skirts bunched around her hips and back pressed against the bricks, moaning loudly as a man in a suit vigorously fucked her. He'd lost a full day watching her turn tricks and most of the following night enriching Drusilla's house...



"So," John gasped, slapping Dru's ass as he plowed into her from behind. "Who's the redhead you have working the streets."

"What... unh, what's the matter?" she replied, pressing back along his length. "Bored... ah! Bored with me... already?"

Not hardly. She was slightly north of fifty now, but neither age nor profession had robbed her of her looks. And she still clearly remembered all the skills he and Jenny had taught her. "No," he replied, groaning at the way her inner walls tightened on his length. "But... thinkin' about having her brought up. Put... put on a little show."

"She's... not mine," Dru gasped as he grabbed a fistfull of her iron grey hair and pulled her tighter onto his dick. "New here. She... oooh... I let her work my street, and... Uuh... I get 10 percent. If she works out... mmmmm... Maybe I'll bring her in."




He'd seen her turn tricks before. It was something Jenny did, sometimes, when she just wanted a quick anonymous fuck. Hell, once in Macao she'd rented herself to a the crew of a whaler - with him playing pimp so he'd have to come along - and he'd watched some twenty men use her and pass her around for hours. Even after she'd passed out, per the arrangement. It always got him rock hard, but never like this. Not knowing he was about to help her fulfill one of her deepest, darjkest fantasies. God, he was looking forward to this.

She walked past, hips swaying with a saucy roll, and he fell in behind her. He waited until she reached the mouth of the next alley, then stepped up his pace and caught her by the shoulder. This was a move he'd practiced before when press ganging drunk sailors, and old skills came flooding back. Before she could make a sound he shoved her into the alley and slammed her into the brick wall with enough force to knock the air from her lungs. Then he twisted her arm behind her back, lening into it and letting her feel him hard against her ass as he held the knifepoint near her eye. "Yes mine, you Irish strawberry," he snarled, leaning his weight into her. "Do what yet fucking told, and you won't get hurt.". He grinned cruelly, grinding his erection against her. "Whore like you might even enjoy it."
 
Jenny didn't have time to shout before being thrown into the alley and having the wind knocked out of her. Jack had her arm twisted and pinned to her back before she could even see that it was actually him. Strawberries seemed to have been a good password, as she couldn't imagine anyone calling her that in real life. She struggled, but not nearly as hard as she could have.

"Get the fuck offa me!" she snarled, stamping on his foot--though again not nearly hard enough to cause any real sort of pain--and moving against the hard dick pressing against her ass. As she struggled the knife, dull though it was, nicked her cheekbone just under her eye. Something inside her thrilled at the pain and the danger of it. Jack shoved her harder against the wall and pinned her with his weight against it. "Whaddye want? Want money? I got money. Got damn near a grand in me purse. Just leave me alone!"
 
"Yeah?" Jack laughed. The knife never wavered, and he kept her pressed into the wall with his weight as he released her arm. His hand crawled over her, exploring her roughly until he found the purse and pulled it away. "Shit," he murmured, sounding impressed as he looked inside. She'd probably earned every red cent of it, too, and the though made him even harder. "Where'd a cheap Irish cunt like you get this kinda money from? Huh? Musta spread yerself for half of New York for this."

Stuffing the purse into his coat pocket, he grabbed a handfull of her red hair and used it to half push, half throw her along the alley. "The money's a good start, you filthy Mick slag. Want a little more than that, though." Before she could move he caught her wrist again and shoved her deeper into the alley. "Ain't nothing more than you're used to, I figure. Putting out fer the gentles and high-ups. Ain't gonna hurt you none to show me a good time neither."

He pushed further still, then twisted and pushed her arm until she was on her knees. Stepping around in front of her, he quickly undid his trousers and let his cock thrust out, smearing precum on her cheek as he twisted his free hand painfully into her hair. The knife in his other hand glittered darkly. "Least, not if you don't make it hurt." Swinging his hips, he slapped his dick against her lips. "Go on, show me a good time."
 
"None of your fucking business where I got it," Jenny spat back, struggling against the "stranger" behind her as he looked through her purse. Most of it she'd earned, but maybe a hundred of it she'd lifted from a john's pocket just to see if she could without him noticing. If he had he hadn't said anything. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and flung her down the alley, causing her to cry out and stagger, catching herself against the wall.

"The money's a good start, you filthy Mick slag." Hearing him degrade her only turned her on more. "Want a little more than that, though."

"Get used to disapp--ah!" He all but dragged her deeper into the alley and twisted her arm until she was on her knees. Jenny whimpered and made noises of pain as she sank to her knees, the pain making her ache with want. He smeared precum on her cheek and across her lips, pulling her hair with one hand and threatening her with the knife with the other. She wanted him to press the knife harder against her face, but didn't want to concern him. "Fuck you," she snarled before he slapped his dick against her lips.

John's cock in her mouth felt wonderful, better than usual because of the danger. Jenny sucked hard as her mouth watered around his throbbing shaft. Her tongue slid around his shaft as his head bumped the back of her throat and she swallowed carefully around it. She was afraid if she moaned it would break the illusion and tell him just how much she was enjoying swallowing his cock.
 
Well. Holy fuck if this wasn’t hot. John could see the he look in Jenny’s eyes, see just how much she was enjoying the way he was “forcing” her to suck his dick. Which gave him an idea. It was her birthday, after all. If she wanted it rough, he’d give it to her rough. “That’s it, you dirty Irish slag,” he growled, dragging her head around as he shifted his position. “You take that dick, bitch. You fucking love it, don’t you?”

Stepping forward slightly, he pressed the back of her head against the right brick of the alley. Giving her a cru l smile, he used the flat of the blade to caress her cheek, letting her feel the contrast between the cool steel and the heat of her skin. Then he drove the length of his cock hard against the back of her throat, smacking her skull into the wall. “Bitch,” he snarled, fist tightening in her hair as he looked need her throat. “Fucking slut.” Fuck, but his spit-slick cock looked good pimping in and out of her lips.

John felt his balls tighten as he roughly fucked her mouth. The little grunts she made as her head hit the wall and his head struck her throat drove him on, encouraging him to fuck harder until her threw his head back with a sharp gasp as he climaxed. The first few spurts of his cum flooded her mouth and she felt so fuming good on his dick that he was tempted to finish there. But this was her fantasy, so aster the third spurt he pulled out and sprayed sticky white streaks across her face and in her hair. When he was as done he stared down at her, watching his seeddrip from her chin and nose and run down her cheeks, staining her clothes.

Then he slapped her.

“Think yer clever, bitch?” he snarled, dragging her to her feet by her hair. “I was gonna let you go with a blow, but oh had to be clever. Didn’t you?” He grabbed her by the throat, slamming her into to the wall again and squeezing until he knew she’d have trouble breathing, then smeared the cum over her cheek with his knife. “Gonna fucking regret that.”
 
Jenny tried not to wince and grit her teeth as he skull fucked her against the brick wall. That was a little more than she'd been expecting, but after some of the things she'd done it wasn't the worst. She grunted each time her head hit the wall and choked every now and then as his shaft forced itself down her throat. She was starting to see stars when he finally came on her face, leaving her gasping for breath and tears running down her cheeks. It was more of a thrill than she'd had in months.

Then he slapped her and dragged her to her feet by the hair. Jenny cried out and grabbed at his hand as he berated her. "What? I dunno--" He slammed her into the wall by the throat, squeezing her airways and leaving her toes scraping the paving stones. Her stockings were ripped, her dress was ruined, and she knew he was only halfway done.

"I...dunno...what...what ye...mean..." she gasped. There was a thrill of excitement and arousal as she felt the cold steel of the knife against her face and felt consciousness slipping away.
 
"Wake up, slut," John snapped, slapping Jenny across the face. He hadn't intended to choke her into unconsciousness, but within the context of the game they were playing it felt incredibly hot. So, after making sure she was actually still breathing, he'd carried her into the abandoned building he'd found while deciding on how he'd play out her fantasy. There, he'd dumped her on the table he'd found, belly down, then tied her arms to the legs of the table. Then, embracing his role, he'd fucked her good and hard while she was still unconscious. Fuck if that hadn't been hot as well, having her helpless and unresisting as he'd pounded his dick into her, imagining her waking up and begging for mercy as she felt his cock in her cunt. But she didn't wake up, and so he emptied his cum into her helpless body with a loud cry.

But fuck if he didn't want her awake for this. So he slapped her again. "I said, wake up you Irish cunt!" Another slap, and he saw her eyes flutter open. Grinning nastily he seized her hair and pulled her head up, letting her see his cum-slick cock rising to attention once more as he licked his lips. "Fucking clever slut, ain't you? Think yer too good fer my cum, don't you?" He jerked her head up harder, then slapped her once more. "I'd have been nice to you, I would have. But no, you gotta go and get me mad. You've only got yerself to blame fer this, now."

He let her head drop, ignoring her pleas as he walked around behind her. If she'd really been unconscious while he'd fucked her, he knew she'd still be able to feel his cum leaking down her thighs. "Bitch," he growled, pushing her skirts up over her ass. "Fucking arrogant cunt. Putting on airs while you spread for any man with half a nickel." His cock titched in anticipation as he ran it over her rear, smearing her cheeks with the sticky residue of his orgasm. Then he slapped her ass, hard. "Well, I'll show you. I'll show you."

Pressing his head aginst the rosy bud of her ass, he held off for a moment and savored her reaction. Then, mercilessly, he pushed himself into her ass, letting her feel his balls slap against her pussy as he bottomed out in her. "Not so high and mighty now, are you?" he laughed, pulling back and slamming into her again. "Fucking whore. I'll show you fucking."
 
The next twenty minutes were a haze for Jenny. Through mostly-closed eyes she saw the ground swaying back and forth beneath her, then a filthy, rotted wooden floor. She vaguely registered pain in her wrists and a deliciously filled cunt as she continued to slip in and out of consciousness, unable to move and unaware of what was going on around her.

"--Irish cunt!"

Her face hurt as her eyes fluttered open. Her vision was blurry as she slowly swung her head from one side to another and tried to remember what had happened and why she was here. It didn't register as a pair of fancy shoes shuffled back into the shadows when John turned her head the other way, making sure she could she his cock. She had only herself to blame for what was happening to her, he said.

She had only herself to blame for what was happening to her...

A distant voice in the back of her mind latched onto that and echoed it over and over. She blinked hard, working to shift her focus to what her husband was doing as he berated her. When she felt his head against her ass she realized and came to herself, struggling violently against her restraints and shaking her head.

"No!" she begged, tears making tracks through the dried cum on her cheeks. "Please no!" But John Jack pushed himself inside her without much preparation at all, forcing himself in to the hilt. "Nooo," she moaned, gripping the edges of the table and getting a sick sort of pleasure out of being used. "Please, just let me...let me..." Let her what? Let her cum? Let her go? Let her die? "Please!"
 
"Use your fucking ass, you Mick slut?" Jack taunted, well into the act of being a rapist. He hesitated for a moment as she begged him, pleading "no" over and over. But she hadn't said 'strawberry', had she? So, it seemed she was still enjoying the game. Still, it wouldn't hurt to check. "Hardly your first time, is it you Irish whore?" he growled, his next thrust making the table scrape as he pushed into her ass once more. He grabbed a fistfull of her curly copper hair, pulling hard to force her head up as he fucked into her again. "How many men, grabbing this strawberry mane of yours? Did you beg them to stop? Beg them to ease up, not to fill that cheap Irish ass with cum?"

He pushed her skirts up higher, baring her rump completely so he could slap it with his free hand. The crack of his hand on her skin was audible above his gasps and her begging. "Tried to see if you was strawberry down below, too," he laughed, pistoning his dick into her again. "First time I fucked you, here on this table. Wanted to see if the carpet matched the drapes." His hand smacked on her ass again as his cock slammed into her once more. "Found you shaved, you slut."

It hadn't been that long since he'd fucked her, but he could feel his orgasm starting to build. So he jerked back on her hair, and slapped her ass again. "Sould I cum in you, you strawberry bitch? That what you're begging for, to feel me cum?"
 
Strawberry. She'd forgotten the word as he rammed her ass, but she supposed Jack had realized that and tried to remind her. Jenny could feel her nails carving grooves into the table as it shook and scraped under the force of his thrusting. She opened her mouth, but only a weird, soft croaking sound came out. Her walls clenched and pleasure thrilled up her body when he slapped her ass...she didn't know whether or not she wanted it to stop.

"Please..." she managed to croak. She didn't want to blueball him, after all. "Please...cum..." Tears dripped from her chin onto the table as he thrust into her and came in her ass. When he let go she slid from the table and crumpled to the ground. "Strawberry..." she gasped, unable to think of a clever way to work it in. "No more...please..."
 
Jack climaxed with a hoarse cry, his cock throbbing against sore flesh as he emptied himself into her. Flesh slapped against flesh as he thrust into her ass, making the table legs scrale over the wood. "Fuck..." he groaned, feeling his seed lubriate her. "Oh fuck yes...". Only then did he hear her gasping whisper, the word strawberry escaping her throat in a strangled sob. He pulled out immediately, the last of his cum splattering her flesh as he hurried around to the front of the table. It might have been a comic sight, the shuffling hop-walk he managed with his pants around his ankles, but there was concern in his eyes as he undid the ropes.

"Are you all right, love,?" he asked, massaging her wrists as he searched her tear-streaked eyes. "I didn't go too far, did I? I just wanted to, well, to give you the birthday present you wanted. Did you like it?"
 
Jenny gasped and nodded as they slid to the ground together and he massaged her wrists. She took shuddering breaths as she tried to stop crying. She reached up and shakily cupped his cheek and leaned forward to kiss him.

"It was wonderful love," she sniffled. "I just...it was...intense. But I loved it and now I just need...I need you to hold me." She scooted up against him and laid her head on his shoulder, holding him tightly. "It's...complicated."
 
"Mystery Science Theater 3000-S11 E14: The Legend of Captain Jack and Red Jenny"

London
2007


"I mean, I knew you were doing porn, but you never told me about this one!" Jenny turned the TV they'd installed in the captain's quarters to HDMI 3 and pushed the VHS into the VCR she'd found in a Goodwill after theirs had finally crapped out. In fairness though, twenty years had been a good run. Over the years they'd outfitted the pearl with many of the luxuries of the modern world: a flatscreen TV, VCR, DVD player, a game console or two though Jenny was still rather attached to her NES, and they seemed to always get wifi even in the middle of the ocean. "The Legend of Captain Jack and Red Jenny...God bless the internet!"

She cackled and flopped onto the bed next to her husband, glancing over at him before discreetly pushing the gear from the top of her nightstand into the drawer. She knew that John didn't like that she was high most of the time these days, but there were other things he didn't know about that she knew he'd like even less, and she needed the drugs to feel normal anymore. On the rare occasions she allowed herself to sober up Jenny often found herself confused and disoriented, unable to keep her own memories straight or remember when or where she was. She thought much more about her children, about her brothers and her parents, about Ion, and sometimes got confused as to where they had gone. Other times she just laid in bed and sobbed. Being sober didn't feel normal anymore; it felt like being old and broken. At least when she was high she had enough sense to hate herself and to do something about that.

"Y'know, I actually got in a bidding war over this on ebay," she said, pulling herself from the introspection she often avoided and pouring them both drinks from the decanter also on the night stand. "Apparently it's good, but not $75 worth of good." She sniggered and grabbed the remote to hit play and settled back, ready to laugh at ridiculous 70s porn.

~*~

Baltimore
1968


May took a deep, nervous breath. Sure she'd done this with strangers, and sure she'd done it in front of cameras, but never both at the same time, and never for money. It felt...wrong. Still fully clothed in her costume she walked up to the handsome man that was to be her "costar."

"Hi." She smiled nervously and stuck out her hand to shake. "I'm May."
 
"Oh. My. God," Jack groaned as Jenny set up the VCR, pulling a pillow over his face in mock shame. "You found that? It was utterly and completely ridiculous, Jenny." She dropped into bed next to him, shoving her drug gear into her nightstand drawer. She was clearly feeling maudlin again, because that's when the hash tended to come out. Immortality seemed to be a hell of a lot harder on her, and he was beginning to wonder if that's because she wasn't supposed to be here. Will had said as much, after all. "It's... not good."

"Y'know, I actually got in a bidding war over this on ebay," she said, pulling the pillow away and pouring them both drinks from the decanter also on the night stand.

"Seriously?" Jack pushed himself upright, taking the rum she offered him. "I didn't even think ebay was still around."

"Apparently it's good, but not $75 worth of good." She sniggered and grabbed the remote to hit play and settled back.

"I question the claim that's good at all," Jack replied, settling back as well. The screen crackled to life, and a beat filled the air. "The actress playing you wasn't a bad choice, though. And, of course, I brought a certain versimilitude to the role..."



Jack looked around the 'set', which was the deck of the sailing ship the producer had rented. And by "sailing ship" he meant "sailboat". He hadn't had the heart to point out that the Pearl had been a three-masted galleon, and he figured the director wouldn't have wanted the input anyway. This wasn't a documentary about pirates, after all. It was porn, using a gloss of history. And, he had to admit, the 'actress' they'd hired to play Jenny was a pretty good choice. Curvy and red-haired and filling out her costume nicely.

"Hi." She smiled nervously and stuck out her hand to shake. "I'm May."

"John," Jack replied, smiling and shaking her hand. "First time?" He watched her awkward nod, and smiled more. "Mine too. Doing porn, anyway. So, I guess we figure this out together."

"All right," the director said, stepping forward, "we're filming all the boat scenes first, since we only have this ship for two days. This is scene one, where Captain Jack beats Red Jenny in a duel and then rapes her."

"Uhm... rape?" Jack replied, momentarily outraged.

"Porn rape," the director sniffed. "Not really, since you're all here getting paid and all. But you'll 'force'-" he made scare quotes with his fingers "her to suck your dick, then do her from behind. Maybe, uhm," he looked around. "Up against the steering wheel, there. Then the money shot, when she sucks you off and you cum on her face." He checked the lights quickly. "You all memorize your lines?"

"All, what, five of them?" Jack laughed.

"Yeah. All right, places everyone! Take one!"
 
May nodded awkwardly when John asked whether this was her first time, then clarified it was his first time doing porn. "Oh yeah me too," she added quickly. "Doing porn, I mean. Obviously I've had sex before." She giggled self-consciously and looked back at the man who had accompanied and kept a close eye on her, who nodded and gave her an encouraging smile before she turned her attention back to John. "Should be fun though, right?" She smiled brightly and stood on tiptoe to kiss John's cheek before the director grabbed their attention. At the mention of rape May took half a step away from John, glancing over her shoulder at Max again before the director explained that it was porn rape.

"May, you're sure you can't take that thing off?" The director was a friend of Max's, but he'd complained several times about the collar threaded with orange ribbon clasped tightly around her throat. At a smile and a shrug from May he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine. You all memorize your lines?"

"All, what, five of them?" John laughed. May giggled as well as they took their places, then action was called.

"Say your prayers, Jack!" she snarled, doing her best to sound mean as she lunged at the stranger with her tinfoil sword. The sailboat wobbled a little as she lunged, but May had grown up sailing with her father around the bay and was able to keep her legs. It took all her effort not to laugh or smile; she felt like a kid playing pirates with a friend in a little rowboat on a pond, despite the bay behind them. She feinted a swing at Jack, then came around to the side only to be blocked. He flourished the sword out of her hand like she'd seen in the movies and tried not to look surprised when it landed in the water with a soft plop. May held her chin up as Jack touched his own rapier to her throat. "Kill me quickly, then," she demanded, taking a step back.
 
"Say your prayers, Jack!" The woman - May - really tried to sound fierce, bless her heart, but she just didn't seem like the kind to have a mean bone in her whole body. But she lunged with her prop sword and, despite knowing it was all just an act, John's reflexes responded as if it had been a real attack. He parried, drawing her sword out of line and then thrust, and only her grace and sense of balance kept him from striking a blow right then and there. And wasn't that promising?

"There's a Captain in there, Red Jenny," he replied, spotting her feint and parrying again. This time, he twisted his blade and sent her won twirling out of her hand and over the railing. "And don't you forget it," he added, resting the point of his prop sword on her throat.

"Kill me quickly, then," she demanded, taking a step back.

"Kill you?" he laughed, not entirely certain if he was remembering his lines or not. "Oh, no. There are far better uses for a lovely wench like you." His free hand shot out, seizing the ring on the collar she wore, and he tossed his own prop sword aside as he pulled her close. "Many better uses," he added, cupping on ripe breast and squeezing lightly before tearing her blouse open. Then he pulled down, using the collar to force her to her knees as he undid his trousers. His cock, which had been hard ever since 'action' had been called, sprang free. He gripped it with his fist, slapping it against her lips. "Many uses."
 
They were off-script, she knew that. But what did it matter so long as they followed the general plot? She knew she was supposed to be defeated in this scene, so did it matter how they got there? May staggered forward as Jack used her collar to pull her close, glancing over his shoulder at Max, who looked furious and whose knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on her disconnected leash, but didn't stop the filming. The Disconnected weren't supposed to use holy relics like this, but he didn't know any better and if she were honest it was kind of hot. Arousal thrilled through her body as he cupped her breast before tearing her blouse open.

May knelt obediently, a move already second nature to her, when he tugged on her collar. She licked her lips as he pulled his cock free and slapped it against her lips. She even went so far as to slide her tongue up his shaft and suck on his head, but then remembered she was supposed to be raped in this scene. That probably called for some resistance, didn't it? Suddenly she was back on her feet, stepping away from Jack. She spat at his feet before adjusting her stance slightly at the director's motion to show more of her breasts to the camera.

"I'll never be your whore," she sneered. "I'll die first!"

~*~

"She might look like me but she's not very convincing," Jenny slurred, gesturing at the screen with her lit joint. "A little puppy growling at a passing leaf, collar and all. Why the fuck is she wearing a collar in the first place?"
 
John plucked the joint from her fingers and took a hit. “You’re overthinking this, love,” he laughed. “This is porn, not a documentary! They wanted a hot redhead who didn’t mind fucking on camera, is all. Besides,” he cupped one of her breasts, fingering a nipple, “ we can always set up a camera and reshoot it, if you’re that fussed.”

“Why the fuck is she wearing a collar in the first place?" Jenny demanded, taking back the joint.

“Fuck if I remember,” John shrugged, letting his fingers drift lower down her body. “All I remember is that she was a good lay.” Bitch as she might, but she was still clearly enjoying watching her namesake get fucked - based on how wet she was, at least. “Maybe... it was a religious thing? There was some guy there from her church at least, watching her.”




“Oh, I have better plans than killing you.” He was surprised he managed to get the cheesy line out with a straight face. It probably helped that he had a sexy half-dressed redhead on her knees in front of him, staring hungrily at his cock. If that tongue action was anything to go by, she was probably good at giving head.

Winking - something he figured he could get away with since the camera was probably on her - he seized her hair and pulled. Not painfully, just enough to encourage her to own forward. “I’ll show you what it means to defy Captain Jack!” Another painfully stupid bit of dialog, but the feel of the redhead’s lips slowly ding over and down his shaft kept him from thinking about it too much. Because yeah, this girl clearly knew how to giv me good head. “Suck that dick,” he growled, turning a little to give the camera a better shot of her tits and his spit-slick dick pumping in and out of her mouth. “Suck it Ike your life depends on it!”
 
May caught his wink just in time. Jack's hand shot to her hair and pulled her forward, getting her back to her knees and on his dick. She slid her lips over his shaft and down, taking him entirely, his head bumping the back of her throat. She tried not to look at the camera when he turned a little and she turned with him, opening their bodies up to allow the camera to see more. May moaned around his shaft, gripping his thighs as the camera man moved closer to them, the camera nearly in her face. She slid her lips up his shaft, sucking on his head and swirling her tongue around it before moving away to look up at him, a trail of saliva still connecting them.

"What you want me to suck it coz you can't give it to me like a real man?" she challenged before taking the whole thing again all at once. The line had been something like that, she thought. May moaned, sending vibrations through Jack's throbbing shaft, before swallowing gently, her throat tightening briefly around his head.

~*~

Jenny snickered when John offered to reshoot the scene and took the blunt back. Might be a good way to make some extra money. Not that they needed it; the hull was always full with whatever currency they needed, so long as they paid cash for everything. But for God's sake she needed something to do between jobs, or during jobs, so pursuit of earthly wealth whether through honest or dishonest means sometimes occupied her for a month or two at a time.

"Too bad she's old now," Jenny lamented, sighing in pleasure as John ran a finger over her slit. "She was hot. Looks like she could've been a lot of fun. Weird that a churchman was watching her." She shook her head and took a hit. "Church pervs...can't trust anyone anymore." The Vatican sex scandal had been a huge blow for Jenny, and she still hadn't forgiven them for the dent it had left in what little faith she'd had left.
 
“Old?” John sniggered, circling Jenny’s clit with his finger. “She could be our great-great-great-great-granddaughter, you know.” His finger pushed deeper, exploring her slick channel. “But yeah, she was fun and he was weird, and I’d have brought her home if he hadn’t been there. Possessive type, you know? Oh, hey. You’ll like this next scene.”



There was a temptation to let her keep sucking him off, because Goddamnshe was good at that. But then the director was waving the script back behind the camera, and he remembered that he wasn’t here just to fuck a hot redhead. No, he was here to act! So he - carefully -pulled her mouth from his dick, letting the camera catch the strand of saliva that stretched back to her lips. “Slut!” he snappe, not sure if that was his line or not. “You’ve never had anyone like Captain Jack Sparrow!”

He - again, carefully - dragged her towards the stern and shoved her against the shio’s wheel. The wheel had been prepped ahead of time, adding the ropes that were never actually there for any reason, and he tied them around her wrists. “I said I’d have you Red Jenny,” he declared, dragging her tight white pants down over her round ass. Then he trailed his fingers up her inner thighs to explore her slit. “Prepare to be boarded!”




“Oh, fuck,” Jack groaned. “I forgot just how stupid the dialog was.” Suddenly, he reached across the bed and grabbed the remote, pausing on a tight closeup of his fingers spreading his costar pen.

“I’m serious,” he said, eying Jenny speculatively. “We’ve got those cameras you picked up, right? And that third Pirates film is about to be released, right?” He grinned, nodding at the big screen. “Let’s redo a few scenes, maybe even put them online. Why should Johnny make all the money on my name, right?”
 
May rose obediently, trying to look like she was putting up a struggle but not entirely confident in her acting skills as she was dragged to the wheel. The wood was warm against her skin as the camera came around to get a reaction shot. She bit her lower lip then looked over her shoulder at her costar has he fumbled through lines even she knew were ridiculously cheesy. But whoever watched this wouldn't be watching it for the dialogue.

"You'll never have me!" she cried dramatically, struggling against her bonds at the motion of the director even as Jack dragged her pants down to her knees and explored her wet slit.

~*~

"Well she'll look old," she corrected. Jenny moaned as her husband pushed a finger inside her, but couldn't help but cackle at the dialogue. "Prepare to be boarded!" she shouted gleefully. "I demand that from now on you say that every single time. I won't get off if you don't you know!"

But then John seriously suggested that they film themselves and she licked her lips. "Well, he does do a good impression," she pointed out. "Buuut...you look an awful lot alike." She considered it for a minute then inclined her head toward the entertainment equipment below the screen. "The good camera's over there somewhere." When he got up to grab it she sat up a little. "Maybe we can even find one of those websites, do it live? Or should we edit it first and claim they're deleted scenes? Those movies are trash though, I'm not even in them! Who'm I supposed to be while we redo this scene? Not that tart!" "That tart" had, even in life, almost always referred to their daughter-in-law Angelica, but when they talked about the movies it meant Elizabeth.
 
Back
Top Bottom