Cap’n Dyke, Lesbian Pirate Queen & Rogue Blogger

Chapter 1

It was a foggy morn when th’fearless lesbian Pirate Queen gathered two o’her favourite Evil Sea-Monkeys (they look like panthers, but they’re really evil sea-monkeys–-makes ‘em big, black an’fangy) t’go forth on another quest t’battle normalcy.

Th’day be hot - as was Th’ Cap’n in her black finery. All that hot, hot black – an’ no one around t’lick up th’breast sweat…

While ruminatin’ on who might be willin’ t’take on this task, Th’ Cap’n remembered what her old nursie, Nursie Percy, told her about times like this: Corset Instruction #43: — Durin’ hot days, beware of sunburn; nothing be harder t’explain than a half-burned breast.

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen made a mental note t’get back t’th’ship in time t’bare said accoutrements as needed t’even up afore th’sun went down then tugged her elaborately-feathered piratical chapeau smartly t’ th’right an’ reached down t’smack one of th’Evil Sea-Monkeys sharply on th’head for gnawin’ on th’tip o’ her boot.

“Come along, ye scupperous mast-climbers,” she commanded with th’air that only a lesbian Pirate Queen could affect. “It’s off to Tortuga port t’find Me BlogMate.”

Drawin’ her cutlass, she leaped off th’deck into th’dingy bobbin’ merrily on th’waves below th’ship. She waited for her Evil Sea-Monkeys t’follow her. (Cough, cough) she waited for her Evil Sea-Monkeys t’follow her.

Obligingly, her crew pushed th’wailin’ Sea-Monkeys off th’ship into th’dingy.

“To th’beach, ye villianous vixens!” Cap’n Dyke ordered th’buxom quartet o’young damsels womanin’ th’oars. “There be frosty mugs o’grog an’fine, young ladies waitin’ t’make Th’ Cap’n’s acquaintance!”

Th’buxom quartet had pushed out their impressive boulders…um, shoulders…an’ began cuttin’ through th’choppy waves when one of th’buxom quartet o’young damsels womanin’ th’oars noticed that there was a non-lesbian who was definitely unbuxomly accompanying them.

They looked at each other an’ did what any buxom quartet o’young lesbian damsels would do in th’self-same situation — they heaved her o’er th’side o’ th’dingy an’ started singin’ ‘What do you do with a drunken sailor’.

Th’fierce an’ sweaty pirate queen wiped her good eye with one oh-so-fashionable black calfskin leather glove an’ glared at th’buxom quartet.

“Damn ye for wastin’ a good non-lesbian!” she growled. “I would’ve gotten me toaster if I’d recruited one more this week! I should flog th’lot o’ye!”

Lydia th’Lucious, th’coxswain o’th’dingy swallowed audibly then ventured. “Aye, me Cap’n, but we be headin’ into th’port o’Tortuga. Th’Gov’ner’s daughter be fair an’ non-lesbian…an’ she be a brunette. Ye know how much ye fancy a fine brunette…”

Cap’n Dyke growled huskily for dramatic effect an’ then turned her face back into th’wind.

“Aye,” she concurred. “That be truth indeed, but ye’d better be hopin’ that no one gets t’her afore I do…”

Meanwhile, th’unbuxom non-lesbian went ‘glug’ an’ slipped mostly quietly into th’drink.

~gurgle~

“Hey!” th’unbuxom non-lesbian yelled after th’dingy. “Ye can’t just leave me bobbin’ here in th’drink!”

~gurgle~

One o’ th’Evil Sea-Monkeys turned its fangy head in her direction then leaned o’er th’side o’ th’diminuative craft t’sniff in th’unbuxom non-lesbian’s general direction…

~gurgle~

******

Meanwhile, in her tastefully decorated subterranean hideaway, Angelique, Dampire Extraordinaire pulled on her tight, burgundy-leather pants, adjusted her burgundy-leather bustier and smiled. “I think a night out is called for. A trip to Tortuga to see Lady Frances sounds about right.”

She finished her preparations and remembered to put the bat out, then rang the bell for her loyal minion, Minette (the dampire had picked her up for a song—literally—in 1700’s Paris).

When the sweet, perky lackey appeared in the door, Angelique gave her the usual spiel about protecting th’premises - as well as the consequences of not doing so, and then disappeared into the night sky.

Meeting up with her arch nemesis, Cap’n Dyke was the last thing on th’dampire’s mind (the first thing on her mind was meeting up with the fabulous Young Lady Frances, the governor’s saucy daughter).

******

“Step smartly!” th’lesbian Pirate Queen purred as th’dingy hit th’creamy-white sugar sand beach o’ th’port o’Tortuga. “Me lesdar tells me there be trouble afoot—or at least in some tavern where me BlogMate be knockin’ back a few!”

Th’ buxom quartet did as bade but - as they were preparin’ t’lay their oars aside, a band o’ruffians suddenly leapt out from th’nearby trees an’ ran screamin’ obscenities - an’ slashin’ about assorted instruments o’mass destruction, towards th’landin’ party. Piratical swords flew at th’ready an’ th’dangerous dykes started battlin’ it out with th’rogues.

Cap’n Dyke slashed aside yet another o’ th’bulky behemoths an’ noted with trepidation that most of her buxom quartet was lying wounded around her.

“Hmmm, methinks that most of me buxom quartet be lyin’ wounded around me.” She noted aloud with trepidation.

Just when Th’ Cap’n thought that she’d have t’settle th’knaves accounts all by herself (th’Evil Sea-Monkeys havin’ already ran into Tortuga after th’smell o’ a banana-flan), a drippin’, limpin’ figure pulled itself out o’ th’sea.

Th’scoundrel closest t’ th’Pirate Queen screamed like a girl an’floundered up th’beach. “It’s th’white ghost o’Scarlet Peg! Run, she’ll tear yer eyes out!”

“Or worse!” panted another ruffian as he ran past th’first. “She cut ye t’bits like a frozen chicken!”

Cap’n Dyke stared after th’retreatin’ men. “Funny,” she said t’herself. “I’ve never cut up a frozen chicken…”

“But I have.” A voice commented beside her.

Twirlin’ like a dervish, th’lesbian Pirate Queen brought up her sword t’strike a deadly blow t’ th’person that just scared th’bejabbers out o’her.

A cutlass parried her blade smartly. Standing before her was th’same very sodden unbuxom non-lesbian her buxom quartet had tossed out o’ th’dingy…

“How…what…” Cap’n Dyke sputtered. “Belay me bosoms, ye scared th’bejabbers out o’me!”

“You’re welcome.” Th’un-buxom non-lesbian replied as she sheathed her sword. “That’ll teach ye not t’carelessly toss aside unbuxom non-lesbians out o’yer dingy.”

Cap’n Dyke nodded an’ ran over t’Lydia th’Lucious, whose limp form was draped rather casually but quite fetchingly o’er th’bow o’ th’dingy. “Quick, Woman, we have t’give aid t’these poor girls! Give them mouth t’mouth resuscitation!”

“Oh no, I’m an unbuxom non-lesbian an’ my name’s not ‘Woman’.” Th’ unbuxom non-lesbian retorted.

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen stood up t’face th’unbuxom non-lesbian with sparks flyin’ from her eyes. “Fine, what be your name then?”

Th’unbuxom non-lesbian drew herself up proudly an’ thus proved t’ Th’ Cap’n that she wasn’t entirely unbuxomed. “I am Miss Ann Thrope, thank ye very much….”

******

Meanwhile, unbeknownst t’either woman, a great, dark shape was sliding sensuously under th’Pirate Ship, ‘Mound of Blue Dykes’ as they spoke.

Chapter 2

The unbuxom, non-lesbian couldn’t, o’course, watch as Lydia th’Lucious lay there on th’beach senseless so she went off t’administer whatever resuscitation was necessary, tearin’ off long strips of her petticoat for bandage as she walked o’er.

She yelled t’ Th’ Cap’n. “Where be th’rum? I must sterilise th’wound…an’ have a few pops meself – as stitching open wounds makes me kinda woozey.”

Th’ Cap’n, havin’ no time to order th’cargo unloaded, began stridin’ o’er in a most piratical way t’retrieve th’rum from th’dingy.

Suddenly, she is unceremoniously tossed on her firm, rounded backside. She growled as she saw th’SwordMistress standin’ over her, sword an’ rapier in hands.

“An’ just what are ye plannin’ t’do t’me with that rapier, Missy?” Cap’n Dyke asked archly (after a peek up Miss Ann’s dress).

A loud roar careened into shore from th’dark waves an’ th’fierce lesbian Pirate Queen understood what had caused Miss Ann Thrope’s sudden bent for playin’ th’dominatrix. She could only watch (although she be presented with a good view) as Jaws th’pirate landshark was about drink all th’rum.

Miss Ann smashed th’flat o’her sword down on one slippery flipper. “That’ll be enough of that, ye smelly buck-toothed minnow! Th’rum be for me an’ th’rehabilatation o’those poor buxom dykes unconscious on yon beach!”

Jaws th’pirate landshark, screamed like a girl an’ dropped t’bottle o’rum like it was made o’snappin’ piranha teeth. He looked t’ th’prostrate lesbian Pirate Queen for help.

Cap’n Dyke shrugged.

“Off with ye, slimy fishy landlubber!” Miss Ann seethed. “Ye be leavin’ me rum an’ me Cap’n alone!”

Cap’n Dyke stood up an’ brushed’ th’sand out o’her bared accoutrements while lookin’ at th’unbuxom non-lesbian with new eyes.

******

Meanwhile, unbeknownst t’either woman, a great, dark shape was still sliding sensuously under th’Pirate Ship, ‘Mound of Blue Dykes’ as they spoke. Its long, svelte body weaved effortlessly beneath th’tall-master, dwarfin’ th’pirate ship t’ th’size of a small dog - a small dog about th’size o’a blind chihuahua.

******

“Well, well,” Th’ Cap’n smiled. “Ye aren’t as unbuxomly as ye might think, Miss Ann Thrope. Th’moonlight shinin’ off yer fine…bos…aye, blouse, sure shows ye well…um, an’ ye called me yer Cap’n…”

Th’unbuxom non-lesbian pulled forth her blade with a spark in her eye an’ a firmness t’her pouty, full lips.

Afore Th’ Cap’n could respond physically or vocally, a shout shot forth from th’nearby town…

******

Angelique stepped out of the alley’s darkness into the torch-lighted streets of Tortuga and looked about. Nothing new she could see…same laughing, burping sailors leaving a tavern, same ladies of the night (not dampires, ladies of the night that get paid to be ladies of the night) leaning out windows airing off their bared assets, same drunk laying in the dirty gutter underneath the said ladies of the nights’ windows.

She gave a final tug to her burgundy-leather bustier and turned towards the Governor’s mansion.

Suddenly, a shout shot forth from deep in the town’s innards of decadence…

******

“I’ll shank ye like ocean trout!” Th’svelte, black-haired woman with th’blazin’ blue eyes swore as th’trolls advanced on her table inside th’Burpin’ Mouse Tavern.

She drew forth her cutlass an’ leaped on th’table like Nijinsky. “Come on then, ye hulkin’ brutes!”

Th’trolls–evil creatures 11 feet tall with low intellect who lurked in places they didn’t belong spewin’ evil opinions—paused long enough t’give each other vacant stares, then turned t’advance upon th’lone woman on th’table.

Blue Eyes brought back her blade t’rend them asunder…

“Blue Gal! Stand down!” Cap’n Dyke told her BlogMate. “How many times have I told ye that th’best way t’kill a troll is t’ignore it an’ here ye be gettin’ ‘em all riled up.”

Th’fine-figure of a lesbian Pirate Queen strode forward across th’debris-ridden floor an’ continued her explanation. “Trolls - while loud an’ stupid an’ incessant an’ stupid, n’er go away unless ye pretend they don’t exist. How many mugs o’grog have ye had then?”

BlogMate Blue Gal, who looked like Cap’n Dyke’s identical twin sister (they were actually second cousins seven times removed by skillful surgery), stepped down from th’table with her wonderfully full an’luscious lips poutin’ prettily. “Only four…nay, five, but th’fifth one was spilled when this…this…troll-thing bumped up against me table on his way t’ th’little troll’s room. Hey, who’s th’sodden unbuxom non-lesbian standin’ behind ye? Does she know how t’handle those over-grown butter knives?”

Miss Ann Thrope pulled forth her cutlass an’ knocked out th’nearest troll with its hilt.

BlogMate Blue Gal nodded. “That was nicely done.”

“Thank ye. Quarter Mistress,” Miss Ann acknowledged, “Now come down from that table - it be a mite slippery, an’ have a sip o’ rum while I be tellin’ ye all ’bout those trolls. Lo these past 4 years I be takin’ down those cowardly beasts an’ our Cap’n is right, darlin’. You must ignore th’evil ones or they be comin’ back. They feed on th’attention o’ the poor soul they be sniffin’ out.”

Cap’n Dyke glared at th’remainin’ conscious trolls until they trouped out o’ th’Burpin’ Mouse. As th’last leathery backside melted into th’darkness outside, she turned back t’address th’two non-lesbians.

“BlogMate, this be our new SwordMistress, Miss Ann Thrope—an’, aye, she be a non-lesbian, although not as unbuxomed as she might lead ye t’believe. Enough chit-chat, there be four buxom lesbians layin’ on th’beach o’ Tortuga we need t’get on their feet again afore some new calamity befalls us.”

“I be a mite sleepy after all that grog, Cap’n.” BlogMate Blue Gal yawned. “Can’t we just take a wee nap afore we save th’buxom quartet?”

Sorry lady,” th’innkeeper said gruffly as he washed up th’last o’ th’troll blood from th’floor (he hated washin’ troll blood—it tended t’stick t’everythin’). “We’re full up. Ye’ll have to go find beds at th’Rainbow Inn. Th’good woman Serena Lesbo keeps th’place right nice, she does. She’ll make ye feel right at home, she will.”

Cap’n Dyke ignored him an’ stepped up t’look her BlogMate in th’eye, her own green orbs smolderin’ with th’fire only a lesbian Pirate Queen can produce. “Though that be a fine offer, I can’t be takin’ ye up on it at th’present time. I think ye be sober enough t’do what needs doin’ ere ye slip coma-like into a grog-induced slumber, m’Lass. Now let’s be goin’ afore th’press-gang finds th’buxom quartet an’ shanghai them for dancers at th’Larousse de la Loo.”

BlogMate Blue Gal sheathed her sabre—as did Miss Ann Thrope.

“Let’s go then.” They said as one.

“Don’t be doin’ that.” Th’tall lesbian Pirate Queen growled. “Ye be me only non-lesbians on th’ship at th’moment. I don’t be needin’ a ‘Frick an’ Frack’ act.”

BlogMate Blue Gal winked at SwordMistress Miss Ann Thrope as they followed th’strikin’ captain out o’ th’tavern.

******

Across th’square o’ th’town o’Tortuga, a burgundy leather-clad woman was makin’ her way into th’second story bedroom window o’ th’Governor’s delicious daughter…

******

On th’good ship, ‘Mound of Blue Dykes’, Noble PowderMonkey Princess Buttercup (aye, ye might be wonderin’ how a fine royal like herself became a powermonkey on a lesbian Pirate Queen’s ship. We’ll be gettin’ t’that soon enough) leaned o’er th’side o’ th’ship an’ peered down into th’dark waters below.

“I say?” she quipped t’no one in particular - as there was no one on th’deck but her august self. “Is that a glint of pink I see in the water by moonlight?”

Seconds later, Noble PowderMonkey Princess Buttercup gasped an’ one delicate hand flew t’her mouth as she saw what had caused that glint.

Chapter 3

Young Lady Frances, th’Governor o’Tortuga’s delicious daughter, reached out as quietly as she dare t’try an’ reach th’golden candlestick at her bedside; this was the better to lam her unannounced visitor over the head with.

A slim, strong hand stopped her.

“Now that’s not the proper way to greet someone who’s come a long way to see you.” Angelique, Dampire Extraordinaire purred.

Young Lady Frances snatched her hand away from the caressing grasp of the dampire and clutched her bed sheets to her full maidenly breasts. “I…I told you not to come back here.” She announced with great indignation.

“You forgot to take back your invitation for me to enter your house.” Angelique reminded her as she lighted the creamy candle she had taken from Young Lady Frances.

“And then you can’t come in?”

“No, I can. I just wanted to see if you’d bite. Any garlic nearby? Crosses? ‘Holier than Thou Water’ Eau de Cologne?”

The Governor’s delicious daughter’s eyes shifted to the wooden chest that lay under the window the dampire had just entered.

Angelique walked over to the chest and sprang the lock, then lifted out the garland of garlic. She drew the pungent circle under her nose and smelled deeply, then looked towards Young Lady Frances. “If you have some cucumbers, I can make an excellent tsatsiki for an after-I-sup snack…”

******

Cap’n Dyke threw out an arm an’ stopped her crew in their tracks. “Did ye just see a burgundy leather-clad woman makin’ her way into th’second story window o’ th’Governor’s mansion…in fact, th’very bedroom window o’ th’Governor’s delicious daughter?”

“Nay.” SwordMistress Miss Ann said. “I be just tryin’ t’keep yer BlogMate on her feet long enough for her t’help bring ‘round th’buxom dykish quartet that lay on yon beach. How about ye, Blue Gal, did ye see aught?”

BlogMate Blue Gal opened one eye an’ looked in th’general direction o’ Th’ Cap’n. “I be just tryin’ t’stay on me feet long enough t’get to Rainbow Inn. Damned, but I be tired. Must’ve been that fifth grog…”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen sighed th’sigh only a lesbian Pirate Queen can sigh, an’ ordered th’women t’stay hidden in th’shadows o’ th’nearest banana tree. Th’mates watched as th’ Cap’n approached th’mansion with cat-like tread, her flashin’ cutlass at th’ready.

Suddenly th’door be thrown open t’reveal th’Governor’s PBA (Perky Blonde Assistant), Trishelle du Deranger.

Her sparky, blue eyes looked at th’stealthy lesbian Pirate Queen an’ she shrilled in a perky voice. ”Hi! What can I do for you tonight?”

Back under th’palm tree, Blue Gal clapped her hands o’er her ears. “Perky! Too perky!” she wailed. “Make it stop!”

******

Young Lady Frances pressed back against her ornately carved headboard as the dampire advanced. Well, actually, Angelique’s advances were pressing Young Lady Frances back but the difference was mere quibbling.

“I don’t want you here! I’m not like…that…I…stop…Oh…” the nubile darling daughter of the stodgiest man on the island stammered as the dampire’s soft lips brushed her cheek then all was silence as Young Lady Frances sighed in contentment and threw her arms around Angelique’s shoulders to bring her even closer.

******

Th’stodgiest man on th’island, Governor Barnaby Herkimer Blacksmythe, shoved his vast torso past th’heavily-laden table in th’dining hall, paused just long enough t’grab one last fried swallow’s tongue an’ popped it into his mouth before bellowing, “What’s all that racket, Deranger?! Deranger! Where’s that damned PBA!””

He threw open th’heavy doors that led t’ th’reception hall just in time t’see th’black feathers of an elaborately feathered piratical chapeau disappear up th’grand staircase.

He blustered an’blew until his mouth finally spewed, “Deranger, was that a lesbian Pirate Queen I just saw running up to my delicious daughter’s bedroom?!”

Trishelle du Deranger waved once more t’ Blue Gal an’ Miss Ann out in th’shadows of th’banana tree an’ turned with a bounce and a perky giggle. “Of course, BB! She said she just wanted to say ‘goodnight’ to Young Lady Frances! Isn’t that just sweet?”

******

Angelique, Dampire Extraordinaire, lowered her mouth to bring Young Lady Frances to a physical an’emotional crest when th’ornately carved double doors of th’bedroom were flung open with a loud crack an’ she was pushed unceremoniously onto the’less-ornate wood floor.

Th’dampire let out th’calming breath Minette always cautioned her to try before destroying someone an’ then got to her feet to face the’interloper. She smiled. “Delightful to see you again, Captain Dyke.”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen slowly pulled off her black calfskin gloves an’ tucked them away in her gorgeous black leather belt. “Angelique. I thought ye be still in Tahiti.”

Th’dampire crossed her arms an’ leaned one sleek hip against Young Lady Frances’ feather bed. “I always try to get back once in a while for something young and fresh.”

“Want t’fight?” Cap’n Dyke queried.

“With you?” Angelique asked back an’ then smiled just enough t’allow th’sharp tips o’ her delicate fangs t’flash. “Always.”

She crouched t’leap across th’room…

Young Lady Frances scrambled out o’ th’bed an’ th’two antagonists stopped t’stare. T’stare at Young Lady Frances in all her tousled glory – for ye must understand there had been nary a stitch left on th’maiden once th’dampire had begun her repast.

“Ummm,” Cap’n Dyke remarked in a pleased tone. “Well held, me dear, but aren’t ye a bit chilly without…nothin’ on…my, my…an’ she be a brunette…”

Angelique smiled down at th’nubile delicious daughter o’ th’Governor and then looked back at th’pirate with a grin. “She’s very fine, oui?”

“Indubitably.” Th’ Cap’n agreed.

“Winner take all?” Th’ dampire asked.

“Definitely.” Came th’answer.

Th’ dampire crouched once more t’begin.

“O, brave soul!,” Young Lady Frances implored th’Pirate Queen. “I beg you, do not fight her! She is a dampire and cannot be killed!”

“Sure she can.” Th’stunnin’ Cap’n Dyke quipped as she drew her blade. “Ye just cut off her head. Can’t be doin’ much lickin’ an’ bitin’ o’delightful young women if yer head be in a separate area of th’room as yer body, eh, Angelique?”

Th’dampire shrugged. “I’m afraid you have me there, Captain.”

Th’Pirate Queen slashed th’air with her weapon, most probably for effect. “Let’s be gettin’ at it then…”

Angelique leaped, Cap’n Dyke slashed - an’ Governor Blacksmythe walked right in between them. His corpulent belly bounced th’dampire away an’ he fell t’one knee from th’force o’ th’shared encounter just as th’lesbian Pirate Queen’s blade whistled through th’air right where his head had been.

“Pa-pah!” Young Lady Frances cried out as she rushed across th’room.

“Frances!” Governor Blacksmythe cried out as he perceived his daughter’s general lack of attire.

“Dammit!” Angelique cried out as she rolled across th’floor o’ th’bedroom.

“Missed!” Cap’n Dyke cried out as she watched th’dampire roll across th’floor o’ th’bedroom.

Barnaby Herkimer Blacksmythe pushed himself with great effort onto his knees an’ struggled t’gain his feet with his nubile delicious daughter’s assistance.

“People will hang for this, I tell you!” he bellowed.

“Not in this lifetime.” Angelique laughed as she vaulted out th’second story window.

Barnaby Herkimer Blacksmythe frowned thunderously as th’dampire disappeared and then turned t’glare at th’lesbian Pirate Queen.

“Ye must be Governor Blacksmythe.” She said, tryin’ t’keep her eyes from wanderin’ o’er th’very delightful form o’his delicious daughter as she spoke.

Chapter 4

Outside th’Governor’s mansion, Blue Gal an’ Miss Ann stopped eatin’ bananas long enough t’look at each other.

“Lot’s o’noise in there.” Blue Gal commented, squintin’ her eyes t’try an’ see what was goin’ on inside th’Governor’s delicious daughter’s second story bedroom window.

“Aye” Miss Ann agreed as she tossed her third banana skin aside. “Where be those Evil Sea-Monkeys when ye need ‘em?”

“These bananas are makin’ me stomach feel better.” Th’ BlogMate returned. “Do ye think we should get up an’ see if she be requirin’ our assistance?”

“Was that a burgundy leather-clad figure I just saw vault out o’ th’Governor’s delicious daughter’s second story bedroom window?” Th’SwordMistress asked as she stood up.

“I’m not sure.” Blue Gal remarked. “But I do be certain that those be definitely a squad of sword-carryin’ guardsmen bein’ let in th’front door by th’Governor’s Perky Blonde Assistant.”

“Well,” Miss Ann conceded. “I suppose we’d best be goin’ in t’see what’s happenin’ t’ Th’ Cap’n.”

“She might be appreciatin’ that.” Blue Gal agreed an’ got t’her feet.

******

Noble PowderMonkey Princess Buttercup took her hand away from her mouth as th’Great Pink Whale, Moby Clit, surfaced between th’beach o’Tortuga an’ th’ship. “How pretty.” She commented t’no one in particular. She pushed off from th’railin’ o’ th’ship an’ walked o’er t’look down into th’darkness o’ th’open hold.

“Walnut? Walnut!” she called. “I think you need to come up here and tell me what is out on the water. It’s big and pink. Walnut!”

Balls & Walnuts, th’ Froggy HelmsMaster o’ th’ship ‘Mound o’ Blue Dykes’, popped his head up from th’belly o’ th’vessel. “What?!”

“There’s something strange out on the water…and my nose is running again.” Noble PowderMonkey Princess Buttercup answered. “You said you would make it stop.”

“The strange thing out on the water?” he said, looking at her like she was not all there. “I didn’t even know about it.”

“No!” she replied, stomping her foot. “My runny nose!”

“Owww!” was th’immediate response from Walnut after she stomped on his finger. His second response was to sigh, stick his painful digit in his mouth an’ climb up out o’ th’hold of th’ship. “Where’s this strange thing out on the water then?”

Noble PowderMonkey Princess Buttercup led him t’ th’side an’ pointed.

******

“Guards!” Barnaby Herkimer Blacksmythe, Governor o’ Tortuga, bellowed as he pointed t’ th’ winsome lesbian Pirate Queen. “Grab that woman and clap her in irons!”

“But, Pa-Pah!” Young Lady Frances wailed. “She saved me from the dampire!”

“Get your clothes on, Frances!” her father wheezed as he brushed off his knees. “She’s a pirate, and not only that, she is a lesbian Pirate Queen! Don’t think that I don’t recognize Captain Dyke, the fiercest, most beautiful, most profitable pirate in the known world!”

“But, Pa-Pah!”

Governor Blacksmythe lumbered o’er, pulled th’comforter of his delicious daughter’s bed an’ wrapped it around her lithe, mostly naked body. “That’ll be enough, Frances.” He commanded. “This woman shall hang for seeing you like this.”

“What about the Guardsmen?” Astute Young Lady Frances queried. “They saw me naked too!”

Th’ four Guardsmen halted in the securin’ o’ th’Pirate Queen in irons, their eyes wide.

“They are men.” Her father said. “Manly men, so that’s different. Take the scalawag away, Manly Men!”

“But, Pa-Pah!” His delicious daughter protested. “I like her…”

Barnaby Herkimer Blacksmythe glared down at Frances. “You’ll be going to church every day for the next year for that remark, young lady, and I’m going to tell Commodore Gerald Twittlepoop that I’ve reconsidered his request for your hand in marriage!”

“But, Pa-Pah!”

******

Blue Gal an’ Miss Ann Thrope watched as Cap’n Dyke was taken towards th’island’s prison by th’Guardsmen.

“Blast!” Th’QuarterMistress cursed into th’darkness as they hurried after th’prisoner an’ her escorts. “Where th’hell are those Evil Sea-Monkeys?!”

Th’Evil Sea-Monkeys were right where Evil Sea-Monkeys like t’be after fillin’ themselves with banana flan — up in a tree. By good fortune, this particular tree just happened t’be along th’route that th’Guardsmen were takin’ t’convey th’lesbian Pirate Queen t’her dark cell. Therefore, when they espied these same Guardsmen conveying their personal lesbian Pirate Queen underneath th’very tree upon which they be digestin’ banana flan, they did just what any Evil Sea-Monkey worth their weight in bananas will do under such circumstances. They pounced down on those same Guardsmen just as Blue Gal an’ Miss Ann Thrope threw themselves on th’luckless Royalists.

Swords an’ fur flew an’ much fun was had by all. Th’only hapless moment for our intrepid band o’pirates was when th’Sargeant o’ th’Guard broke th’blade o’ Th’ Cap’n - in a tricky move that surprised even him, sendin’ th’business end o’ it sailin’ out into th’black o’ th’night.

Th’ lesbian Pirate Queen an’ th’Sargeant exchanged surprised looks when this happened and then traded looks again as a shrill cry — that sounded like some luckless inhabitant o’ th’town o’ Tortuga had found th’business end o’ th’pirate’s sword, drifted in from that same black o’ th’night.

“That was me.” Th’man admitted. “My fault; all my fault.” This bein’ said he brought his cutlass down on her head.

Cap’n Dyke rolled away from th’deadly blow then found herself snatched an’ pulled back into th’shadows.

Th’Guardsman, not t’be so easily dissuaded from his goal o’bringin’ th’lesbian Pirate Queen t’bloody justice, quickly followed an’ then just as quickly found himself flat out on th’ground. Well, that is he would have found himself flat out on th’ground if he would have been alive — which he was not.

Th’ Cap’n tried t’pull away from th’person who had so deftly lent th’Sargeant th’rest he no doubt so sorely deserved.

“No.” a soft voice whispered in her ear. “Just stand there. Like that. Yes, I definitely like you just like that, except you need to get back to your ship, brave Captain, if you want to save it. Get your crew and hurry…”

Cap’n Dyke tried once more t’pull away, but her rescuer was strong…very, very strong. “Angelique. Let go o’me right now an’ I won’t be killin’ ye…”

“Neither one of us will die tonight,” The dampire responded. “If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

“Then why not do it,” th’pirate gruffed. “An’ get it o’er with?”

“Not yet.” Angelique murmured and placed butterfly lips and a warm lick on the side of th’Sapphic Seafarer’s neck. “I prefer to take the time to, let’s say savour, that sort of thing, especially since you’re my favorite flavour. What say we do dinner later?”

Cap’n Dyke shuddered once, but not in fear. Her mind wandered unbidden t’ wonderin’ what th’dampire would do next t’make her feel that feelin’ that wasn’t fear again; that was somethin’ much more luscious… Suddenly, she was released.

She spun around, dagger in hand, t’strike at th’presumptuous dampire. O’course, bein’ a dampire, Angelique was already gone.

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen was angry now, angry enough t’dispatch an entire garrison o’Guardsmen single-handedly, but when she ran back out t’ th’fray she found th’action was over.

“An’ where have ye been?” Her BlogMate queried from where she was sittin’ against th’wall o’ th’prison pettin’ th’head o’ a purrin’ Evil Sea-Monkey. “Tippin’ th’velvet with village girls while we be doin’ all th’dispatchin’ here?”

http://www.millan.net/minimations/smileys/swordfightsmiles.gif

Chapter 5

Young Lady Frances wiped away yet another tear from her sweet face (which only looked like Winona Ryder’s – Young Lady Francis owned it first an’ was probably an ancestor) as she carefully folded her favorite corset an’ tucked it away in her valise right next t’her favorite bustier.

“I’ll show him.” She sniffed. “I’ll teach him to take away beautiful lesbian Pirate Queens in irons and try to marry me to that extremely-odious cretin, Gerald Twittlepoop.”

******

Noble PowderMonkey Princess Buttercup led Walnut t’ th’side o’ th’vessel an’ pointed.

“Hmmmm,” he mused after some thoughtful moments observing th’strange thing out on th’water. “It appears to be of the genus species, Kogia breviceps…except that it’s pink.”

“I’m sorry,” HRH/NPM Buttercup said. “I didn’t understand a word you just said, but it looks like that the Kogia whatever is turning its massive head this way and I would say it is a lot bigger than us. Mayhap, this is some cause for concern?”

******

Governor Blacksmythe knocked gently on his delicious daughter’s door with one super-sized knuckle. “Frances, it’s Pa-Pah. Are you faring well after that nasty encounter with those unnatural women? Frances?”

******

“I only kiss village girls when I be in th’South Seas.” Cap’n Dyke answered her BlogMate. “We need t’get t’ me ship. She be in grave danger.”

******

Moby Clit, th’Great Pink Whale paused a moment, as if listenin’ t’some inner voice, then began movin’ towards th’pirate ship.

Th’ship’s Froggy HelmsMaster, Walnut, began chewin’ on th’cuticle on his favorite steerin’ hand as he noted this maneuver on th’part o’ th’giant sea creature.

“Well,” He said aloud. “I could go full-sail and try to out-run the critter or I could just fire all barrels at it. Nay, nix that…th’Gunner is off following that blasted genie, Jambi, somewhere.” He looked over towards HRH/NPM Princess Buttercup. “Do you think you could fire a few cannons in its general direction while I get the sails up and turn the ship around? Where’s Bosun Da Nator?”

******

Young Lady Frances pulled her hat lower down on her maidenly-brow an ‘ran towards th’port.

Back in her room, th’ornately-carved wooden doors suffered yet another damagin’ blow t’their integrity as her father kicked them open. “Frances?” he queried quietly into th’dimness, and then he saw th’rope made from his daughter’s delicate pantaloons trailin’ out th’open window…

“Deranger!” Blacksmythe shrilled.

******

Th’ Cap’n was relieved t’note as they ran up th’beach towards th’ship’s dingy, that her quartet o’buxom lesbians were on their feet – well, not on their feet, they were actually paired off an’ enjoyin’ each others company thoroughly in th’sugar sand – an’ appeared quite healthy from this angle.

“On yer feet!” She commanded. “Woman th’oars an’ get me out t’Me Ship!”

Miss Ann tugged on th’Pirate Queen’s blousy linen sleeve. “Um, not t’put a damper on th’scene, but is that a pink whale I see preparin’ t’ram your dread pirate ship?”

“Blast!” Cap’n Dyke cursed. “What th’hell else can go wrong tonight?”

Her answer came as th’Great Pink Whale turned from its path an’ headed back towards th’beach – as if it recognized her voice…

****** Th’Great Pink Whale, Moby Clit sized up th’situation ahead o’her. Th’water was gettin’ shallow, but her target, th’lesbian Pirate Queen, Cap’n Dyke, was on th’beach dead ahead. Th’sapphic sea-creature mulled this fact o’er then plowed forward with a great snap o’ her giant flukes an’ opened her gigantic mouth.

Th’winsome lesbian Pirate Queen drew back her replacement cutlass (many thanks t’her BlogMate) t’at least take a fine slice out o’ th’beast as it swallowed her when a voice seemed t’float out o’ Moby Clit’s mouth. “Hey, watch it with that thing! Ye could hurt someone!”

Cap’n Dyke hesitantly lowered th’blade an’ peered in past th’large teeth, “Is that ye, Elizabeth?”

Moby Clit blinked one large dinner plate-sized eye as a tall figure stepped around its molars an’ onto its tongue.

“Aye,” Elizabeth, Assassin-in-Trainin’/Poet Laureate with an Epee, acknowledged as she came into view.

Now Cap’n Dyke blinked. “What th’hell are ye doin’ inside there? I thought ye were at th’Poet Laureate’s School for Fencin’ with Mr. Ho?”

“I was headin’ in that general direction on th’lesbian cruise ship line, Octavia,” Th’willowy writer o’fine dark novels replied as she folded her long, luscious legs underneath her t’have a seat on th’whale’s tongue. “When a sudden squall capsized me transportation t’Mr. Ho’s School for Fencin’. I saved forty fine lesbians by tossin’ them aboard th’ship’s only dingy an’ then leaped in th’water t’fend for meself. When I thought all hope had been lost — after skewerin’ five feisty sharks in th’nose when they had th’thought o’eatin’ me — an’ was ready t’give meself up t’ th’goddess o’ th’sea, this darlin’,“ she added, pattin’ th’tongue she sat upon. “swallowed me an’ saved me life. She has a marvelous tongue, y’know.”

Cap’n Dyke handed th’cutlass back t’Blue Gal an’ then hesitantly reached out t’pat th’pink nose o’Moby Clit.

“Good girl.” She commended as if talkin’ t’a poodle. “Who’s a good girl then?” She stepped back an’ looked at Elizabeth. “Okay, I be sayin’ ‘thank ye’. Come on out.”

Th’Assassin-in-Trainin’/Poet Laureate absentmindedly scratched at th’giant taste buds underneath her. “Actually, I think I kinda like it in here. It’s dark an’gloomy an’ I’ve been able t’get scads o’writin’ done.”

Suddenly, behind th’chattin’ women, muskets blazed forth from th’night…

******

Up on a nearby dock, two men watched as th’pirate crew scrambled into th’dingy an’ rowed furiously out t’ “Mound of Blue Dykes”.

“They be skippin’ across th’waves pretty good, eh, Howard?” th’first one remarked.

“Aye, Dave,” th’other responded in a haltin’ voice full of resonatin’ meanin’. “I’ve never seen such a rigorous, rivetin’ demonstration o’oarsmanship in all me life. That cap’n should be proud t’command such a devastatin’ crew o’curvacious cutthroats. Watch as they pull away from th’team on th’beach. Remarkable. A finer display o’rowin’ ability isn’t available anywhere in th’world today. This is truly a fantastic feat o’nautical artistry. Back t’ye, Dave.”

Dave looked o’er at Howard, dumbfounded, an’ suddenly had th’feelin’ that Howard had missed his callin’ in life.

Chapter 6

Cap’n Dyke vaulted o’er th’railin’ o’ th’ship an’ ordered Walnut t’clear th’port, then turned t’face th’women that followed her. “Everyone here an’ accounted for?”

“Aye,” Blue Gal reported. “Except for Elizabeth, who insisted on soundin’ with Moby Clit – an’ an extra…”

“An extra what?” Th’Sapphic Seafarer queried.

“Well, in most sea stories, ye’d think that it would be an extra little lad.” Th’BlogMate explained, then reached o’er an’ snatched off th’stowaway’s hat, revealin’ Young Lady Frances, “But any good woman pirate knows that it always be some young maiden runnin’ away from her strict father, who no doubt wants t’marry her off t’some lazy, lackluster ass.”

******

On th’docks, Young Lady Frances’ strict father, who wanted t’marry her off t’ th’lazy, lackluster ass, Commodore Gerald Twittlepoop, looked sternly on his future son-in-law. “Get out there, get Frances and get your lazy, lackluster ass back here. No running around chatting up island girls or stopping to get victuals, do you hear me, Twittlepoop?”

Th’tall heavily-muscled body o’ Commodore Twittlepoop tensed an’ he snapped a salute so hard in response that he knocked his hat off. After glancing with generous discomfit at th’Governor, Gerald leaned down an’ picked it up. He jammed th’offending chapeau down on his hard head an’turned t’scream at his men t’set sail after th’lesbian Pirate Queen.

******

“Great.” Cap’n Dyke snarled. “Just bollockin’ great! We barely get away with our wonderfully endowed skins an’ now we have th’whole cursed Fleet o’Tortuga after us!”

“Come on, Cap’n, tut, tut.” Th’ ship’s Bosun, Da Nator, admonished as she stepped out of th’hold where she’d been playin’ poker with th’bilgerats again an’ drew th’scared Young Lady Frances under her arm. “Hasn’t she been through enough this night, fightin’ off th’advances of a luscious dampire an’ all, without ye yellin’ at her? Are ye thinkin’ o’ anyone’s feeling but yer own?”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen growled again an’ turned on her heel t’retrieve her second-favorite cutlass from her cabin. “Aye, that’s me. Only thinkin’ o’meself. Not savin’ anyone’s life but me own…”

Th’crew watched th’ Cap’n mutter under her breath until she slammed her cabin door shut, then Blue Gal shook her head.

“Well,” she declared as she replaced th’tricorn back on Young Lady Frances’ head with a gentle pat. “Ye’ve done it now, Da Nator. There’ll be no livin’ with her until she’s gone an’ sunk every last one o’ those Royalist ships that be after us. Good job. Well held an’ all that.”

But th’Bosun wasn’t listenin’. She was chuckin’ th’Evil Sea-Monkeys under their chins an’ telllin’ ‘em that they weren’t really evil an’ that she’d let ‘em sit in on th’next poker game with “Black” Plaguemeister, th’ Cap’n o’ th’Bilgerats.

******

Th’clouds grew an’ th’sea boiled as th’ Tortuga Fleet raced after th’trim pirate ship, “Mound of Blue Dykes’. Suddenly, a fierce squall erupted between th’enemies as if by magical means, causing Commodore Twittlepoop’s Lieutenant to knock with hesitation on his commander’s cabin door. “Bunny? Bunny, are you busy? We’ve got a bit of a problem out here…”

Gerald Twittlepoop threw open the door a second later, thunder dancing in his piggish eyes. “What?! And don’t call me ‘Bunny’ in front of the crew! How many times do I have to tell you that you can only call me that during our ‘workouts’?!”

Lieutenant Understrapper swallowed audibly, but secretly relished inside the vision of the punishment he would get later for angering the Commodore. “Just thought you’d like to know that there’s a very large waterspout forming between the lesbian Pirate Queen’s ship and our fleet and it’s headed this way.”

“Tupping Rumpsplitter!” Twittlepoop cursed darkly. “I was hoping to sink her and get Young Lady Frances back to town in time for a quickie wedding and an early wedding night. I’ll not draw in my horns now, Understrapper! Keep after her!”

Understrapper looked first fearfully at his commander then shot a glance over shoulder at the dark, growing waterspout. “Sir?”

“I don’t give a great wasp’s wap how you do it, man! Just do it!” With this, Commodore Gerald Twittlepoop slammed the door in his underling’s face.

******

Walnut, Froggy HelmsMaster of th’pirate ship, shrugged at his comely captain. “We’re still too butt-heavy to get out of the waterspout’s pull, Cap’n. We’ve tossed over all our crates of food, the extra barrels of water and rum (Cap’n’s Note: which answers the proverbial question – “Yes, but why is all the rum gone?”) and all the bilgerats who were losing at poker. We don’t have anything else to toss.”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen’s Invisible Ninja Bodyguard, Casey — who’d been guardin’ th’ship durin’ th’excitin’ adventure ashore, stepped forward an’ made a low bow, “Everything except for your many chests full of issues of ‘Pirate Wench’.”

Cap’n Dyke wiped th’salt-laden rain from her eyes an’ peered back at th’watery juggernaut loomin’ up behind them. “What if we just throw away two or three chests? Just th’issues I can get more of on th’black-market?”

“It might be enough.” Walnut answered as he removed th’lying fish that had just flown right up his linen shirt an’ tossed it away – with th’wind, mind you. “But it might not and we probably only have moments to find out if Lady January 1706 will save our tuckus or not.”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen turned away from her HelmsMaster t’hide th’sorrow in her eyes. “Do it then.”

******

It was a frightenin’, yet wondrous moment for th’sailors an’soldiers o’ th’Tortuga Fleet.

Th’waterspout was monstrous an’sounded like a million angry bees as it rushed towards them, but for one marvelous second before it hit them, they smiled. They smiled as it became a kaleidoscope o’colour.

They smiled just before a fist o’water smashed them like a child’s wooden toy.

******

“Blimey.” Th’ Cap’n remarked, watchin’ as th’innumerous issues o’Pirate Wench coloured th’waterspout like a bawdy rainbow. “I suppose their sacrifice be worth it, considerin’ it be so pretty. That, an’ th’fact that it smashed them like a child’s wooden toy. Are we pullin’ away from it, Walnut?”

Her HelmsMaster finished jumpin’ up an’ down with glee an’ set Blue Gal back down. “Aye, Cap’n! We’re moving away like gnocchi on butter!”

Th’sapphic pirate leaned o’er th’railin’ an’ looked down on her celebratin’ crew below. “Alright then, let’s turn around an’ get Young Lady Francis back t’her father.”

“But, Cap’n,” Bosun Da Nator protested, lookin’ up toward her pirate queen. “She likes bein’ with us! She doesn’t want t’go back t’her stodgy father!”

Cap’n Dyke stepped down th’stairs an’ stood before th’nubile Young Lady Frances. “An’ I suppose she told ye that just now durin’ all th’excitement an’ imminent threat o’death?”

“Well, no…” Da Nator answered petulantly. “But I know these things.”

“What are ye, th’stowaway whisperer?” Th’ Cap’n snapped. “She be goin’ back. I won’t have her endangerin’ this ship any longer.”

“But Commodore Twittlepoop’s fleet is entertainin’ th’fishes of th’deep now.” Miss Ann countered. “They be playin’ pinochle with th’parrotfish.”

“An’ we do be a democracy.” Blue Gal interjected. “Bein’ a pirate ship an’ all.”

Cap’n Dyke sighed and regarded her earnest band o’brigands, wishin’ momentarily that she was foul an’dastardly like Black Bart Roberts; then she’d just throw th’lot o’them in th’brig an’ let them subsist on day-old pastries an’weak tea. As it was, she looked down at Young Lady Frances. “Well, at least be getting’ her some proper garments. She can’t be runnin’ around in breeches an’ a corset. It clashes.”

******

Chapter 7

Angelique, Dampire Extraordinaire, shrugged out of her bustier with Minette’s assistance.

“So,” her minion asked. “How was your trip, Ma Demoiselle?”

The dampire stepped into the frothy tub that had been prepared for her and sighed deeply as she slipped into its deliciousness before answering. “It could have gone better. I nearly had Young Lady Francis right where I wanted her and then that sweet rascal, Captain Dyke, stepped in – literally – and put an end to my repast.” She dipped one skillful finger in the hot water and made a miniature whirlpool. “I’m trying to decide what to do about her.”

Minette picked up her mistress’ undergarments and draped them over her arm. “Why not just kill her or bring her over to our side? She has been thwarting a good too many of your adventures for quite a long time.”

“I don’t know.” Angelique mused, a slight smile kissing her lips. “She does have what it takes to be a fine companion. Still, I must say that I enjoy the clash when we meet by happenstance.”

She slid her shoulders under the bubbles and drew one hand slowly up the inside of her silky thigh as she remembered the feel of the lesbian Pirate Queen’s neck under her lips; the saltiness of her flesh. “I will have to ponder the pros and cons…alone, Minette. You are dismissed.”

******

Sableux Del Malvado took th’gin an’ tonic off the tray on th’back o’ Sentinella Laboradora, her new indentured servant.

“I don’t know why nobody likes me.” She complained. “I’m your everyday run-of-the-mill villain. I do my more than fair share of evil things. I point out to people when their behavior is wrong or when they aren’t up to snuff. I only want her back. I just want everything the way it was. If she hadn’t wanted to find happiness, it would have worked out. Everything was fine just like it was. Just like it was.”

Sentinella regarded th’evil octopus woman who appeared to be wearing John Denver’s face with baleful eyes, then padded back t’her thin pallet on th’floor an’ lay down after growlin’ at th’covey o’sea lice that wanted to share her restin’ place….

******

“Have you always been a pirate then?” Young Lady Frances queried as she supped with th’ Cap’n in th’lesbian Pirate Queen’s sumptuous cabin, where th’candlelight was soft an’ th’atmosphere somewhat…heavy…with unknowns.

“Even pirates aren’t pirates when they’re born.” Cap’n Dyke answered. “Actually, I was born into what might’ve been considered a fairly important family in me day. Me father was somewhat well-known for his abilities as a swordsman an’ me mother was twenty times better than he at th’same…”

“Your mother?”

“Aye,” the lesbian Pirate Queen nodded as she sank her even teeth deeply into her meat. She enjoyed her mouthful for a bit an’ then continued. “Where do ye think I got me wicked backslash from? Anyway, I be educated at University College Oxford although it wasn’t called by that name when I went to school there. It was called “Go Sit By The Crazy Old Man Down Where The Ox Fell In The Stream And Try To Learn Something” when I was young. Anyway, I went t’Oxford back when William o’Durham was still giving th’commencement addresses, an’ I be findin’ out at an early age that earning money was no piece o’ shortbread…”

“You went to a university?” Th’well-favoured beauty across th’table stared up in mid-bite. “But you speak as if…”

“My dear,” Th’ Cap’n answered in an aristocratic accent that would have put Queen Elizabeth to shame. “What you see in front of you mayhaps is not that which has always been. Yes, I went to a university, but not as a woman; they frowned upon that sort of thing back then. My alter-ego was one Alex Plantagenet. A lean, lanky lord of a lad with girls on his mind…ummm, speakin’ of — you seem to have clam-sauce dripping down your chin.”

******

Th’Pirate Ship’s SailMaster, Skippy th’Bush Kangaroo, looked out o’er th’boundin’ waves that danced about th’vessel like playful topless mermaids. His telescope was glued…well, not glued, but set against his rooish eye, scannin’ th’watery horizon in search of ships waitin’ t’be boarded an’ plundered, women t’be coddled an’ converted an’ anythin’ else that might keep his mind off th’state o’ th’States back in America. T’ th’West – nothin’ there. T’ th’East, nada. T’ th’South, nothi…wait! He swung th’scope back an’ waited for th’dizzyness t’stop, then called for th’QuarterMistress.

Blue Gal took a last swig at her tankard an’ gave it back t’ th’Grog Wench, Julie O. (a fine woman o’letters, that one), then went up th’stairs t’ th’forecastle an’ th’waitin’ Skippy. “Ye see somethin’ o’ interest then?” She queried. “Mayhaps somethin’ that will be gettin’ Th’ Cap’n out o’ her blue funk? I wager she’d probably go for a galleon right now. That dampire really kerfuffled her feathers when she saved her life back on Tortuga.”

Th’SailMaster lowered th’telescope an’ eyed Blue Gal appreciatively. “My, but ye be lookin’ fine in that new bustier, BG…” Skippy then hurried on with his message after th’BlogMate tromped soundly on his tail. “I see smoke t’ th’south.”

Blue Gal took th’telescope from him, mindin’ t’keep her unused eye half-open in case th’randy Roo executed a flankin’ move, an’ peered through th’device. “I see it. Tell Walnut t’head toward it. We’ll investigate before I bother Th’ Cap’n.” She paused a moment, then looked o’er t’where HRH/NPM Princess Buttercup was leanin’ against th’ship’s railin’ lookin’ exhausted. “Buttercup, ye can stop stompin’ yer foot now.”

******

The Dampire Extraordinaire woke as the moon made its arrival over the horizon and lay thinking about her rest. Hard as she tried, she could never capture her dreams after she awoke from her death-like slumber. All she remembered was something involving a beach, skinny-dipping, role-playing, ice cream with marshmallow sauce and a woman with an eyepatch. Minette appeared like clockwork at her side with her wake-up libation.

Angelique took the glass made of the finest crystal and sipped. “I’ve thought about your suggestion concerning persuading the lesbian Pirate Queen to join us.”

“Oui, Ma Demoiselle?”

“Do I want to give up an immortal life pursuing and enjoying delicious women just to have her? The problem that presents itsel is that I know that she’s not the ‘sharing type’. Do I want to change her or is it more exciting to engage her in physical and verbal repartee when we chance to meet? What if she wants to move in after the first night together? What if she doesn’t like cats?”

******

Th’delightful dyke pirate dabbed at her stunningly full mouth with a linen napkin ungraciously provided by th’last French merchant ship she had pillaged, then excused herself from Young Lady Francis an’ followed Blue Gal out onto th’deck o’ th’pirate ship. “Ye only practice esito interruptus when there be something foul afoot – or ye spy a fine-lookin’ maiden, me BlogMate. Which be it?”

“Mayhaps both.” Blue Gal answered. She drew Th’ Cap’n to th’rails o’ th’vessel an’ motioned with her chin.

First, Th’ Cap’n was impressed that anyone’s chin could be that expressive, then her own chin dropped open as she spied what was bobbin’ in th’water beside th’ship. For there upon the bounding main bounced a woman unlike any th’lesbian Pirate Queen had e’er set eye upon…an’ she be wearin’ black leather like it be a second skin…

“Why,” Th’ Cap’n blinked. “She be wearin’ black leather like it be a second skin.”

“Is someone up there going to throw me a rope here or am I going to have to come up there and get it myself?” Th’extremely well-buxomed blonde smoldered.

Suddenly, Inigo Betmo Montoya, Swashbuckler-in-Residence for Cap’n Dyke, swung down t’ th’deck on a sturdy rope, rapier in hand. “Does she have six fingers on her right hand? For I, Inigo Betmo Montoya, have vowed t’avenge my…”

Blue Gal sighed. “We haven’t had time t’look at her right hand, I.B. I’ll let ye know when we do, aye? Why don’t ye go see if Young Lady Francis would like dessert?”

As th’Swashbuckler swung enthusiastically off in th’general direction of th’captain’s cabin, th’BlogMate looked at th’lesbian Pirate Queen an’ then reached o’er t’gently close said captain’s mouth with one finger.

“I vote for something foul.” She said.

******

Twenty miles north of the Pirate ship’s position, a man found himself in somewhat the same difficulty as the extremely well-buxomed blonde bobbing beside Cap’n Dyke’s vessel. Commodore Gerald Twittlepoop pulled himself up the rope ladder and over the railing of the sloop that had drawn up to rescue him from his precarious perch on what was left of his frigate’s poopdeck.

“Right then!” He announced as his feet hit the deck. “I’m Commodore Gerald Twittlepoop and I hereby take over command of this ves…” He stopped and looked at the scowling, leering unshaven faces that ringed him. “Well, I guess you’re not English, eh?”

Capitan Virago, the Spanish Noblewoman Formerly Known As Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato, drew her blade, stepped forward and stared at the rescued officer. “That would be…how you say…a ‘no’.”

******

Back on th’Pirate ship, ‘Mound of Blue Dykes’, th’sapphic seafarer extended a hand t’assist th’extremely well-buxomed blonde onto th’vessel. Th’proffered hand was accepted an’ th’rescued woman jumped down t’ th’deck, her curves strainin’ mightily against th’tight, black leather she wore.

“Name’s Montana.” She announced. “Dax Montana. Thanks for the lift.”

After a general round o’introductions, Th’ Cap’n queried as t’why Dax had been floatin’ in th’ocean in a dingy an’ how she had managed t’produce th’smoke that called th’attention o’ th’Pirate ship.

Dax thought about it for a moment before answerin’. “I remember vaguely being on a ship with a lot of music and beautiful people like me.” She answered after her moment. “Then this big column of water – it was really pretty, all the colours of the rainbow and all – hit the boat like a cop’s rubber truncheon. I felt like someone slipped me a Mickey Finn, I tell you. Hit me like a ton of bricks. Then I found myself in a little boat and when I saw your boat, I took off my rubber bustier and set fire to it. Hey, is that a real sword or are you just happy to see me?”

******

Capitan Virago, the Spanish Noblewoman Formerly Known As Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato, prepared to take her dainty booted foot off the plank.

“Wait!” Commodore Gerald Twittlepoop protested, holding up one of the hands that kept him fast atop the fine, sturdy piece of Brazilian wood that hung over the thrashing waves. “I can be of value to you!”

She put her foot back in place. “How?” she asked. “You have no ship, no money, no sword. You are a steenking English and I hate thee steenking English. You are not a master of thee sailing or even a worker of wood. You are notheeg.” She began to pick up her dainty booted foot once again.

“No, no!” Her captive audience of one implored. “I can show you where there is a lot of money. I know where Captain Dyke…”

Now Capitan Virago, the Spanish Noblewoman Formerly Known As Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato’s sword leapt from its gold and emerald-encrusted scabbard as her black eyes narrowed. “You know where is Capitan Dyke? She is my fiercest enemeey of all time! My leetle taquitos, get his English ass back on the sheep! I go now to my cabin to prepare to meet my nemesis.”

******

Angelique, Dampire Extraordinaire, walked out onto the battlements. “A glorious night.” She remarked to no one in particular, because there was really no one else in particular that happened to be standing on the battlements with her. “I wonder if my bungalow in Port Royal has been kept up? A nice vacation in the Caribbean might help me clear my thoughts.” This time there was no ringing of the bell for Minette. No instructions. She just left.

******

Inigo Betmo slid down th’mast with lightin’ speed an’ ran t’ Th’ Cap’n.

“Slow down, me Swashbuckler.” Cap’n Dyke cautioned. “Ye’ve been swoopin’ hither an’ thither all day. I don’t need ye t’be blowin’ a blade on me. Take a breath.”

Th’Swashbuckler did as directed, then said, “Sails to the North, my Captain!”

“What flag be flyin’?”

“French, but I know the cut of a Spanish ship when I see one!” Inigo spat.

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen signaled her QuarterMistress t’attend her. Together, they agreed t’would be significantly better t’be restin’ an’ quaffin’ grog that night snug in th’main cabin rather than drinkin’ brackish water in some soggy Spainard’s hold.

“Gather th’crew an’ prepare in case th’misbegotten sons o’whores try t’belay us.” Cap’n Dyke instructed Blue Gal.

Th’QuarterMistress hurried off t’sound th’ship’s bell an’ th’sapphic seafarer approached th’extremely well-buxomed blonde, Dax Montana. “Ye’ll have t’join Young Lady Francis down in th’hold once they come within’ hailin’ distance, M’amoiselle…” She began.

“Screw that!” Dax blurted. “If there’s going to be a fight, I’m not going anywhere!”

“For your own safety, I must be insistin’.” Th’ Cap’n insisted.

Dax pulled a bullwhip from somewhere behind her back an’slapped th’weight of its handle against the palm of her hand. “I’ve whipped ass from New York to Cuba, Sweetie. You aren’t going to stop me, but you can sure as hell can try to keep up when the fun starts.”

Th’fine crew o’ th’good ship, ‘Mound of Blue Dykes’ began preparation for battle. Th’decks were cleared an’ th’cannon loaded. Armorer Belle Dame laid aside her great double-headed axe an’ wrapped chains around th’yardarms t’protect them from bein’ chopped, then set th’powder chests up on th’forecastle an’ th’poopdeck. She pounded th’restrainin’ straps into place an’ picked up her whetstone t’start th’long, lovely process o’ bringin’ her axe-heads t’ their finest edge.

“Th’better t’slice their heads off with.” She noted t’ th’wide-eyed Young Lady Francis, who stood nearby sippin’ a mimosa.

Walnut an’ HRH/NPM Princess Buttercup used th’deck mops t’spread butter on th’decks while Skippy th’Bush Kangaroo an’ Th’Invisible Ninja Bodyguard threw dried beans an’ peas on th’planks. Miss Ann Thrope took particular delight in layin’ down th’boards with th’nails on them just jumpin’ distance from th’side rails o’ th’vessel. She liked dancin’. Th’remainder o’ th’time spent waitin’ for th’unknown ship from th’North t’arrive was spent sharpenin’ their blades until they gleamed an’glinted in th’bright tropical sun. An’ tea…they had tea an’biscuits.

About an hour later, a vessel drew nigh t’ th’Pirate ship. A fierce man dressed in tarskins an’ buskin boots jumped t’ th’railin of th’strange ship’s forecastle.

“Ahoy th’ship!” He hollered. “Put yer captain in a dingy an’ send him o’er with proper papers or we’ll broadside ye!”

HelmsMaster Walnut leaped t’ th’Pirate vessel’s forecastle railin’ an’ answered. “We decline to concur with your improper request! Instead, we demand that you send your captain over with adequate paperwork to prove your nationality and your purpose in these waters!”

Th’knave sneered an’ gave a signal. Immediately fifty-plus men appeared along th’railin’ of th’man-of-war, brandishin’ cutlasses an’ marlinespikes.

“Nah, I like me idea better! All ye need t’know is that ye face th’crew o’ th’Black Joke.” Th’ill-visaged sailor called back. “It be me sincere belief that any wish t’save yer life will make ye agree with me!”

Th’HelmsMaster paused a moment, then grinned. “Is that the name of your ship or your way of telling me that you’re pulling a prank?!”

Th’ill-visaged sailor roared an’ rattled his sabre menacingly in th’air. “I’ll show ye a fine prank when I get o’er there, ye bookend!”

“Your name, sirrah, so that I may send your effects to your poor mother after I’ve run my cutlass through your craven soul?!” Walnut queried. “If you wish to lose the fittest piece of floating wood in these waters, please fire away! We await your convenience!”

Hesitation was now obvious on th’enemy sailor’s face. He was used t’ships just havin’ th’mittens scared off o’them by th’threat o’bein’ showered with grapeshot an’ cannon balls. He glared at Walnut, then turned an’ looked behind him. He gave a shrug an’ jumped back down t’ th’deck.

Cap’n Dyke watched as a small, dark woman clad in silks and brocade climbed th’enemy ship’s forecastle in a most dignified manner. She frowned. Blue Gal noted this, bein’ th’fine BlogMate that she was.

“Um,” she spoke up. “Do ye know this woman then?”

“Aye,” th’lesbian Pirate Queen growled, slammin’ a fist against the nearest thing, which happened t’be th’tail o’ th’bilge-rat that was settin’ up odds on th’fight for th’others waitin’ in safety below. After it ran off squealin’ from th’blow, she sighed. “It be th’only female prize I ever released without demandin’ a ransom first. Her name is Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato.”

“Long frickin’ name that.” Th’QuarterMistress commented.

“Long frickin’ story that.” Cap’n Dyke replied shortly.

“She seduced ye, didn’t she? That’s how she got away without enrichin’ yer pockets.”

Th’ Cap’n didn’t have time t’answer. Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato was on th’forecastle of her ship. She stopped an’ turned t’face her enemy. As she did so, a tall man stepped up from behind th’ship’s wheel.

“Dammit, it be Gerald Twittlepoop.” Th’sapphic seafarer sighed. “An’ here Miss Ann thought he be playin’ pinochle with th’parrotfish…”

“Capitan Dyke!” Capitan Virago, the Spanish Noblewoman Formerly Known As Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato called, her voice as clear an’ crisp as a bell-ringer’s fingers on a cold Christmas morn. “I nevar thought I would be putting my eyes like thees upon you so soon! It will be my…how you say…playsure…to show you how thee battle skills have done thee improvement! I weel take…”

“Where’s Francis?!” Commodore Twittlepoop butted in. “I demand…” Seconds later, he lay on th’deck, groaning in pain from a swift blow t’ th’noggin’.

Capitan Virago, the Spanish Noblewoman Formerly Known As Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato wiped th’hilt of her sword with a red silk kerchief, looked at it with distaste, then released it into th’wind. “Forgive the English’s…how you say…interrupt moment. He ess a peeg. I only keep him alive until I know you are in thee sights, as you say.”

“What do ye want, Domita?” Cap’n Dyke called back. “Just tell me an’ we’ll get on with this unpleasantry.”

Th’diminuative Domita smiled, slightly. “Why, Capitan, I — of thee course — want you…on thee end of my father’s sword. Thee pointy end.”

Grapplin’ hooks flew from th’Black Joke like jagged black raindrops o’ pain. Their iron points cracked an’ held th’wood o’ th’Pirate Ship like greedy moneylenders in Port Royal an’ th’thugs on th’enemy ship began haulin’ forth in an attempt t’bring th’battlin’ vessels together.

Da Nator shouted out t’Belle Dame, who began cuttin’ th’ropes away like they were buttah, but she wasn’t able to reach th’bowspit afore th’Black Joke entangled with it. A great roar o’laughter an’ avarice rose from th’scallywags of th’enemy ship, who began leapin’ across th’few feet between th’ships an’ began t’board.

Th’crew o’ th’Mound of Blue Dykes carefully backed away, dodgin’ grapeshot like Chinese circus gymnasts, an’ gathered on th’poop deck an’ th’forecastle. Th’first wave o’ enemy sailors found th’nailed boards, th’second wave th’buttered peas an’ beans.

When th’next rush held back — as they watched their fellows holdin’ their bleedin’ feet an’ slidin’ across th’deck into th’waitin’ blades o’ their enemies, they were picked off on their own deck with expert pistol-shots inflicted from high above in th’crow’s nest by Charred, th’Pirate Ship’s finest marksman. A scream of frustration rang above th’noise.

“How could I be forgetting thees, thees tricks you use?!” Capitan Virago, the Spanish Noblewoman Formerly Known As Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato exclaimed in fury. “I remember thees! I remember thees now, Capitan Leesbo! You give thee foul! You do not play thee game as you should!”

Th’Domita started pacing furiously back an’ forth on her deck. She skewered one poor sailor who stepped on th’edge of her gown in his frantic effort t’get out of her way an’ continued. “I weel come oveer there an’…!”

“Close your trap, Bitch!” Dax Montana shouted. “Or I’ll personally ram my bullwhip up your…”

Cap’n Dyke stepped forward quickly an’ grabbed th’extremely-buxom blonde by th’waist, puttin’ her hand o’er her full mouth. “Thank’e, Dax, but I think I can be handlin’ this.” She sheathed her cutlass an’ called back t’ th’enraged Countess. “If ye want t’run me through, Domita, it will be a fair fight! Ye an’ me, eh?! I’ve got eight cannon trained on yer waterline now an’ I’m not afraid t’blast ye out o’ th’water!”

Th’Domita stomped her foot, her pretty lips poutin’. “I also have thee cannon barrels peeping at thee waterline, Capitan!”

“Aye,” th’lesbian Pirate Queen agreed with a smile, “but ye don’t have th’manpower t’fire ‘em, now do ye? Most o’ yer lads lie on either yer deck or mine an’ they don’t appear t’be able t’carry out yer threat! Now me own crew — fine upstandin’ healthy group that they are, have lighted tow all ready t’go! What say ye just have one o’ yer uninjured lads row ye o’er here an’ we’ll have a chat?!”

Face fierce, Capitan Virago, the Spanish Noblewoman Formerly Known As Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato, barked an order an’ glared at th’sapphic seafarer until she was safely aboard th’Pirate Ship.

Cap’n Dyke ordered a quick clean-up of th’deck. “T’insure yer safety, Domita.” She explained with a elegant bow.

Th’crew set t’work throwin’ th’enemy sailors who could still swim off th’ship, movin’ away th’defenses an’ layin’ down sand on th’cleared deck. When it was as good as it was goin’ t’get without a full vinegar an’ water soak-down, th’lesbian Pirate Queen warned her pirates back an’ drew her blade. Th’Domita did the same.

“Whenever ye be ready, Milady.” Th’ Cap’n said.

Capitan Virago, the Spanish Noblewoman Formerly Known As Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato leapt forward, her rapier singin’ a song o’death like a hefty soprano at th’Paris Opera.

Th’shapely Sapphic seafarer blocked a blow intended t’skewer her neck an’ lunged for her opponent’s arm, trying to use her luscious body to shove th’ Domita aside. Th’fiery virago twisted her blade an’ hung on, finishin’ with her rapier hilt pushin’ Th’ Cap’n back t’ her startin’ point.

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen inclined her head politely. “Ye have improved yer swordplay, X. Me congratulations.”

“I have gotten thee much better at many theengs, Capitan Dyke.” Capitan Virago, the Spanish Noblewoman Formerly Known As Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato sneered, breathin’ heavily. “And do not call me thees ‘X’. You know how I hate thees neekname.” Th’fight began anew.

Cap’n Dyke dodged several attempts by th’diminuative vixen t’end her life, finally jumpin’ onto th’riggin’ o’ th’main mast t’avoid a fatal thrust.

“An’ yer thrustin’.” Th’strikin’ sea-captain winked an’ grinned. “That has achieved a much better effect on me as well. Ye still be mad that I left ye in Spain with yer mother, aren’t ye?”

Capitan Virago, the Spanish Noblewoman Formerly Known As Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato growled an’ snapped from a defensive position to a high angulation an’ put th’tip of her blade right over th’top of th’lesbian Pirate Queen’s guard. Its point sank into th’top o’her hand. Blood welled. Cap’n Dyke spoke a command t’quiet her angry crew, then bowed shortly. “May I attend?” She queried of her opponent.

Th’other woman acquiesced an’ th’Pirate Queen used her uninjured hand t’produce a creamy linen handkerchief t’staunch th’red flow. Th’ Cap’n bowed when she was ready an’ it was on again. Th’spitfire Spanish woman pressed th’offence an’ her ferocity doubled. Th’sapphic pirate executed a quick parry to th’other woman’s lunge, then a lightin’-fast riposte. Her skill was rewarded as her opponent stopped an’ requested a moment t’dress th’wound on her cheek.

“That should be a scar t’be proud of.” Th’Pirate Queen commented. “Ye’ll have th’Prussian Officers chasin’ ye like a sweet bit o’hasenpfeffer.” They squared off once more.

“I cared much for you!” Th’Spanish Noblewoman spat as she encircled th’other woman’s blade, bindin’ and then lungin’ towards Th’ Cap’n – an’ just missing. “I would have lived thee life of a woman who loves thee women for you!”

Cap’n Dyke engaged th’Domita’s blade an’ came in close enough t’kiss her. In fact, she kissed th’enranged women on the nose as she replied. “I told ye that I couldn’t live landlocked, m’darlin’. I leave th’sea for no one.”

Th’Domita pushed away then an’ slipped her point around th’lesbian Pirate Queen’s wrist. Th’tip sank deep into th’unlucky woman’s side. “Then not even th’sea shall have you.” She declared with finality.

Cap’n Dyke stepped back an’ looked at her foe with a smile just hauntin’ her lips. “Ye have improved.” She complimented afore sittin’ back onto th’stairs.

Th’sparky Spaniard threw back her head an’ laughed (although not maniacally — Spanish noblewomen do not laugh maniacally. Most improper.), then drew back her blade for th’final blow. A loud snap filled th’air an’ th’point pulled away as Cap’n Dyke lifted her sword arm t’fend off th’strike.

“Okay, playtime’s over!” Dax Montana snarled. “Let’s see how you do against Black Betty here.”

Th’dimunative Domita turned an’ saw a wall o’angry faces behind her.

“Dax.” Blue Gal said shortly. “This one be mine t’apply remedy to.”

“I want t’be part o’this party!.” Miss Ann growled.

Capitan Virago, the Spanish Noblewoman Formerly Known As Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato, found herself furiously battlin’ th’angry pirates until she was left fighting against th’railin’ with only a short stub of blade jutting from the gold and diamond-encrusted hilt.

As th’band o’bodacious buccaneers backed th’Countess against th’bowspit an’ th’curvacious Bouncer Dax Montana pulled back her whip t’smite th’fiery Castilian, Cap’n Dyke pushed through them an’ ordered th’skirmish halted. “Dax! Blue Gal! Stand down, m’hearties! Leave off th’lady!”

“Domita de Menses,” Th’wounded pirate remarked. “I have n’er seen a more brilliant execution o’Chiver’s Defence in me life. In fact, th’only move that excels it in excellence is th’McClung Bum Offence. For this alone, ye will be put back on yer own ship. I’ll have t’disable her afore I take me leave o’ye, o’course.”

“I don’ want your steenkin’ compliments, Capitan Leesbo!” th’dark-eyed beauty snapped back. “An’ I shall nehver hand you my sword in defeet.”

“But I don’t be askin’ for yer blade, Diminutive Domita.” Th’lovely lesbian Pirate Queen returned with a somewhat stilted bow. “I ask only th’chance t’sup with ye…”

“Si, and then you will poison my repast and I weel be…how you say…turtle-bait!”

“That would be ‘shark-bait’…” Walnut corrected. “Turtles don’t circle th’ship lookin’ for throw-outs, or left-over corpses for that matter. Not really in their overall make-up actually.”

Both women turned t’look at th’HelmsMaster in silence.

“Very well then,” He quipped. “I’ll just take myself over here to Dax Montana and ask her about how she managed to get such a fine cut from her leather armorer…”

Moments later, a loud slap reverberated across th’deck.

****** Capitan Virago, the Spanish Noblewoman Formerly Known As Domita Luisa Carlita Ignacio Xavier de Menses, 5th Countess of Ericato, shook her fist as th’Mound of Blue Dykes sailed away from her disabled vessel. “I weel keel you next time, Capitan! This I vow!”

Cap’n Dyke looked at her Swashbuckler. “Do all of ye vow all th’time then?”

Inigo Betmo Montoya shrugged an’ grinned. “It seems to work for us…”

******

Blue Gal unwrapped th’last o’ th’bandage away from th’wound an’ made a face. “I don’t like th’way it looks. Walnut?”

“Being an eye, ear, nose and throat physician on me off-time, I’d say that deep sword wounds inflicted just under the breast aren’t quite my forte, but I’ll give it a go…” He proffered with wigglin’ fingers an’ sparklin’ eyes.

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen raised one eyebrow. “Do ye want me t’be callin’ Dax in here, Walnut?”

“Most definitely.” He agreed, backing up out of striking distance. “Will you let her bring the whip?”

“Walnut, get up top an’ find a head on our position afore I take yer own off.” Th’BlogMate ordered shortly.

Th’ Cap’n looked down at her side an’ chewed her lip. “Could be worse.”

“Not much.”

“Ah, that’s m’Lass! Always good for a laugh…”

Blue Gal turned away t’get th’sulphur powder. “I’m not kiddin’. We need t’find a port soon. Preferably not Tortuga — as we’ve gone an’ lost Young Lady Francis…”

Cap’n Dyke shot up from her supine position. After a sharp yelp of pain, she exclaimed. “What?!”

“We went down into th’hold t’let her out after we carried ye in here an’ she wasn’t there.” Th’BlogMate explained. “Twittlepoop wasn’t seen on deck after ye called th’Domita o’er t’our ship, but we thought he was just bein’ th’big, bollockin’ coward he is. Th’bilge-rats weren’t talkin’, so we don’t know what exactly happened…”

“We have t’turn back!” th’wounded woman protested. “We have t’get her!”

Blue Gal looked somewhat exasperated as she pushed her Cap’n back against th’feather pillows. “First ye don’t want her aboard an’ now ye want her back aboard. What’s it t’be then? By now, th’Black Joke will have been made seaworthy an’ be long gone an’ we’ve more an’ enough t’worry about. We’re goin’ to make land as soon as possible an’ get ye th’help ye need right now.”

“Turn this ship around, Blue Gal.” Th’ Cap’n intoned.

Th’QuarterMistress shook her head. “Nay, ye be wounded. By th’Code I now have command.”

“Call th’Omnipotent Poobah. He be me personal Godling. He’ll fix me up in two shakes o’ a shark’s tail.”

“Nay, I already talked t’one o’ his angelic hosts. He be out o’ th’galaxy rightin’ wrongs in a misogynist solar system. They said He’d pop by when He came back an’ gave their regrets…oh, an’ their blessings. We make for port. Now eat yer lobscouse an’ get some sleep.”

******

Th’Mound of Blue Dykes made port in th’piratical town of Port Royal. Th’crew gently loaded now unconscious Cap’n (th’extra rum Blue Gal gave her assisted her into this state) onto a stretcher an’ got her into th’nearest sawbones house. Blue Gal drew her dagger an’ placed it against th’doctor’s gullet. “If she dies.” She threatened. “Ye’ll be swift t’follow her t’ th’land o’shades.”

Th’sawbones saw th’wisdom in this pronoucement an’ hastened immediately t’ th’side o’ his newest patient.

******

Cap’n Dyke heard someone callin’ her. Someone she knew; someone seducin’ her. Seducin’ her with a voice, which was quite impressive in itself. She went towards th’voice, her legs movin’ through quicksand. Finally, she opened her eyes.

“Ah, Ma Petite.” A cool hand brushed her temples. “You’re back. Tres bien.”

Th’ Cap’n came t’herself suddenly at th’sound o’ th’dampire’s voice. She pushed herself out o’her dreamstate, heavin’ herself off th’pillow. Angelique pushed her just as swiftly back down onto th’pillow an’ leaned over th’sapphic seafarer. “While I don’t mind the fine view you’ve just offered of rather luscious regions of your body, I must insist you lay still.”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen fought t’get up. “Ye’ll not have me! I’m not ready t’die just yet!”

Angelique stepped back an’ away from th’bed with a light laugh. “Darling, I’m not going to take your life. I just saved it.”

“Ye’ll not make me a dampire! I’ll expose meself t’ th’sun! I’ll find a priest an’ he can drive a stake through me heart!”

Th’beautiful dyke vampire sat her stunning tush upon th’edge o’ th’bed. “Captain, dampires are born, not made. All I did was heal your wounds with some…fluid. You’re not a dampire, nor will you ever be. You’ll no doubt heal from future disasters quite well and will definitely live to a wonderfully youthful old age – maybe even exist for centuries, but you’ll never be like me. In fact, there are very few of us; which is how it should be. I wouldn’t want to be fighting them for your attentions. Speaking of, did you happen to have any delicious dreams just before you came to?”

Cap’n Dyke blushed.

“Mmmm,” Th’Dampire smiled brightly, “then my job here is done. Take care, Ma Petite, I hear that Governor Blacksmythe is still on the hunt for you.”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen’s brilliant emerald eyes held Angelique’s. “Tell me why you chose t’save me.” “Tell me why I should choose not to.” Came th’reply. With th’answer came a kiss. A gentle, soul-searing lip-lock that left th’lesbian Pirate Queen enervated as well as drained.

“I’m not goin’ t’stop fightin’ ye.” Cap’n Dyke protested weakly.

The Dampire Extraordinaire walked to th’door of th’sawbone’s cottage t’ take her leave. “We’re much more alike that you could ever admit, my fine Pirate Queen and, you know something, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I look forward to any future tussles.”

An’ then she was gone.

******

Blue Gal was drownin’ her growin’ apprehension o’ her Captain’s possible demise in great tankards o’grog with th’rest o’ th’crew, knowin’ each was wonderin’ what they should do next. She lifted her large silver tankard an’ signaled for another round from th’tavern-keep. “I don’ know.” She said t’no one in particular. “I always had what it takes t’be a fierce an’ unwaverin’ QuarterMistress, but a Cap’n? I don’ wanna be th’ Cap’n. I be a BlogMate. I be th’best BlogMate in th’world. There be only one Cap’n an’…”

“An’ she be right here.” Came th’sultry tones from behind her.

Th’BlogMate leaped up, spun an’ was caught in her dizzy fall by th’woman she was mournin’ an’ broke into tears.

“Pirate don’t be cryin’.” Cap’n Dyke admonished softly. “An’ especially not th’fiercest QuarterMistress on th’Caribbean. What if a troll saw ye? I’d have t’be payin’ extra for th’keep t’be moppin’ up th’detritus. Let’s be findin’ th’rest o’ th’crusty crew an’ rescue Young Lady Francis…”

******

K.L. Krambalski looked at th’now empty rum bottle an’ shook it, affirming to herself that it was indeed rum-less.

“I told you it was gone.”

“No harm in checking.”

“So, what do we do now, hulver-head?”

“Same thing we’ve done every time we find we’re out of rum, kettledrums. We look for more rum.”

“You need to find a way to get us off this island, Long Mary, not look for more rum.”

“You find a way to get us off the island. I’ll look for more rum.”

“Like I can do that, you great looby! You know I have to go where you go!”

The lone person on the island sighed, then got up to light another signal fire – and look for more rum.

*******

“Did you see something?” Veronica asked Casey, th’Invisible Ninja Bodyguard.

“Where, O Holder of the Nine Pearls?” he replied. “Your magnificent glow blocks the view of all about me.”

“Casey, stop it.” She answered back. “I told you, I’m not going on shore leave with you next port. I mean it, did you see something shining over to the east? There!”

Th’Invisible Ninja Bodyguard o’ Cap’n Dyke followed her arm. Sure enough, there was a dim light in th’distance.

“Perhaps it is the fire of indigenous natives warming themselves in the cool tropical night” He suggested.

“Looks more like a signal fire about to go out because someone found more rum.”

******

K.L. Krambalski tossed away the empty rum bottle. “I don’t know where we’ll find more rum.”

“If you paid more attention to the fire, instead of the rum, we would be able to get off this fricking island.”

“Rum is important. It helps keep focus.”

“Focus on finding more rum!”

“Do you see something out on the water? It looks like a giant swan about to give birth.”

“That’s definitely the rum talking, you Firmity!”

“I haven’t had that much rum, you gallied torchcul!”

“Guzzle Guts!”

“Shut your gob, Twin Heavers!”

“Scrubbado!”

Krambalski sighed and fed the fire.

*******

Th’dingy landed in th’early morn an’ found a lone woman sleepin’ by a dyin’ fire. Cap’n Dyke shook th’woman awake.

“Ahoy! Are ye alone then?”

Th’dark-haired woman sat up an’ rubbed groggy eyes. “Not really.”

“Where are th’others? We’re here t’take ye aboard ship.”

Now th’woman was full-awake. “I’m the only one. A ship?”

“Ye said there were others?” Th’lesbian Pirate Queen spoke slowly. “Where are they?”

K.L. Krambalski stood up. “No, we’re the only ones here.”

Cap’n Dyke surveyed th’beach around them. “But ye be th’only one here.”

“Yes,” Krambalski answered. “It be only Katie and me.”

“Katie?”

“Yeah,” Came a second voice from the woman in front of the pirate. “We’re the only ones on the island.”

Cap’n Dyke was very confused. “Katie? Is that your name?

“No.” The first voice answered from the woman before her. “My name is Linda.”

Th’sapphic seafarer took off her chapeau an’ scratched her head. “Are ye Katie or Linda then?”

“Yes.”

******

Th’marooned woman was given a blanket an’ some rum an’ told t’make herself comfortable in th’cabin. After Cap’n Dyke was certain th’ship was on course for Tortuga, she joined Krambalski.

“So then,” She began. “Are ye comfortable?”

“I’d like more rum.” Th’woman answered, holdin’ out her copper cup.

“I’d like ye t’tell me why ye were stranded on that bit o’sand.” Th’lesbian Pirate Queen pressed as she refilled th’cup.

K.L. Krambalski seemed t’take a moment t’look inward an’ then sighed. “You are not going to believe us.”

“Ye said ‘us’ again. This confuses me a mite.” Th’ Cap’n confessed.

“Well, we are ‘us’.” Th’other woman explained. “Katie and me. We’re in here together.”

“In where exactly?” Cap’n Dyke queried as she decided t’pour herself a nice full tankard o’rum. She had th’distinct feelin’ she would be needin’ it for some odd reason; either that or it was goin’ t’be a long night talkin’ t’someone who should be in Bedlam.

Krambalski drained th’cup o’rum. “It’s quite a sad story actually. You see, this is Linda speaking right now by the way — I was a horse doctor in a small town in Belgium when I met this girl…”

******

Young Lady Frances threw the nearest thing – which happened to be a small statuette of some obscure Greek or Roman god of plenty, at her father. “I will not marry that…that jackass and you can’t make me!”

Barnaby Herkimer Blacksmythe dodged the well-tossed projectile and stamped his foot – well, he couldn’t jolly well hit her, now could he? Well, he could, but he was afraid to get any closer at the moment. “You will marry Commodore Twittlepoop, daughter! He saved you from that wicked woman pirate. You owe him!”

The young noblewoman stopped abruptly and tilted her head, peering at her father like he was some alien plant walking in the midst of London traffic. She stared at him, then – slowly – one eyebrow lifted in flight above her eye (a move she particularly loved when Cap’n Dyke did it).

Governor Blacksmythe smiled widely and took a step forward. “See now? All it took was for you to understand what he did for you…”

The next object, a quite stout wooden jewelry box, hit him square and he fell back on his backside as she shouted angrily. “I was happy, you big nit! For the first time in my life I had fun and I was with people who treated me like…well, like I wasn’t some gussied-up hothouse rose just waiting to be plucked!”

Barnaby Herkimer Blacksmythe levered himself up onto his knees and then to his feet. “All they did to you, Francesca Elizabeth Winona Guinevere Blacksmythe, was teach you the rude mannerisms of the peasants! I am going to leave you now to think about what your duties are – and, no, there won’t be any supper for you, so don’t ask! You were born and bred to be a proper young English woman, not the whore of a degenerate pirate!”

“Rather the whore of a person who possesses a heart than the well-dressed bawd of a boob like Twittlepoop!” She exclaimed.

The Governor skeedattled out the door just as a large vase smashed against it with the force of a small virago.

******

“So, Yer Royal Hiney,” Belle Dame asked after a fine piratical burp. “How can ye be a princess an’ a powdermonkey? Aren’t th’two things kind o’mutually exclusive t’one another?”

HRH Princess Buttercup slammed her empty tankard down in what was left o’their evenin’ repast. Ignorin’ th’splatter o’yams that now graced her tablemates, she burped in, of course, a noble manner an’ then nodded her noble head. “Y…Yes.” She agreed, swayin’ a bit on her bench. “Normally they would be mutually exclusive, as you so succinctly put it, Ship’s Armorer, but let…let me tell you a little story. You see, my mother was the Duchess of Atholl. One would have assumed my father therefore was the Duke of Atholl. More rum, if you please.” This request bein’ attended to, she lifted her tankard an’ stared at it. “Pretty, very pretty, all rainbowy and swirly in there…”

“Yer story, RH.” Cheryl, HRH Royal Bitch Protector o’ Th’Mound o’Blue Dykes urged. “Go on with yer story then.”

HRH Princess Buttercup aka Noble PowderMonkey started slightly an’ took her gaze away from th’tankard. “How come you speak all piractical?” She asked. “You are royalty as well, but you talk…funny.”

“I’ll tell ye when it’s my turn for story night.” Cheryl groused. “Out with it!”

“Very well then.” Princess Buttercup drew herself up. Bad posture made her stays dig into her ribs, y’know. “Well, my mother being the Duchess of Atholl would make one believe that my father was the Duke of Atholl, but no, Papa was gone off fighting someone somewhere – he did that a lot, and when he came home, it was declared a miracle that I was born but five months after his return. Well, actually it was declared a miracle when it was discovered by the villagers that if someone said anything else they would end up upside down in the Duke’s darkest dungeon.”

“So who be yer father then? A King, a rival Duke?” Th’Invisible Ninja Bodyguard pressed.

HRH PB/NPM took a very deep, unroyal quaff off her tankard, then put it down, with more precision this time – right in th’remains of th’soup of th’day. “No, good women an’ gentlemen. My father was…was th’handsome blacksmith, Gabron Duncan. This I found out from my sainted mother when she lay abed during the birth of my brother. I had achieved the age of seventeen when this occurred. Once little Malcolm popped out and declared heir to all that surrounded him, I was sent to the nuns.”

Another substantial burp keep th’company in suspense for a few more moments. “Got to keep my title and naught else. I, my fancies, was summarily kicked out of the Convent of the Blessed Right Pinky Finger of the Virgin for a tussle with a holy sister with the face of a bulldog and the temper of a demon who wanted to barter me to the local husbandry for articles of food and other items that the nuns at the Convent of the Blessed Right Pinky Finger of the Virgin weren’t allowed to have because of their holy vows. I…can I have more rum, if you please? Thank you muchly, Walnut. I left in the dark of night – well, actually it was early afternoon, but don’t you think leaving in the dark of night sounds so much more romantic and dangerous?”

Th’anguished looks of her fellow crew members bade her continue ere they erupt in some chummy sort of piratical violence, so HRH continued – after a deep quaff. “I went back to my father’s village. My real father, Gabron Duncan.”

“And he welcomed ye with open arms an’ ye lived happily ever after.” Miss Ann laughed.

“Shut up.” Th’Princess sniffed. “Actually, he blustered and blew and said he had no idea what the hell I was talking about. His wife was standing just behind him with a heavy wooden rolling pin the whole time. It made quite the noise as she tapped it against the wall near his head every now and again, I assure you. As it was, I was quite unimpressed that this handsome, well-muscled man whose blood I shared was such a nannykins and resolved as I left the village that I would make my own way in the world.”

Veronica, Pearl o’ th’Sea, sat back against th’hull o’the ship an’ crossed her arms. “So how did ye meet Th’ Cap’n then?”

“A roof, a mirror and a wheel of cheese.”

******

“And that’s how it happened, because Katie was working for me.” Krambalski explained t’ Th’Cap’n. “She held the horses while I…”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen lifted up one hand from where it had been cradlin’ her aching head. “I don’t be really wantin’ t’know what ye did t’ th’horses, Doctor. So, what ye be tellin’ me this whole long time is that ye were with this Sableux person…”

“Sableux Del Malvado.” Katie corrected.

“This Sableux person,” Th’lucious dyke pressed on. “for over twenty years an’ in that time ye ne’r noted that she was a sea-witch?”

Krambalski helped herself t’ th’rum bottle an’, after a moment, refreshed her hostess’ tankard as well as she continued. “It was quite the surprise, as you can well imagine. I mean, she had a right temper and could cook a mean Shepard’s pie that would just melt in your mouth, but it didn’t smack of witchcraft at the time. Anyway, when she found out that Katie and I were canoodling in the supply room whenever we could, she cast a spell on us. We two became one. Now we share the same body, but we really can’t be together, if you know what I mean in a dykish sense…oh, and she stole my dog too.”

Cap’n Dyke rubbed her weary eye. “Your dog?”

“The first dog I got after I became a horse doctor. Her name is Sentinella. She retrieves things and brings them to you. Quite invaluable before Katie came to work for me, actually.”

“Well!” Th’pirate abruptly stood up an’ clapped her hands smartly together. “Thank ye much for th’story an’ all, but I think we all need t’be hittin’ th’hammocks now.”

“Well…” Krambalski hesitated, an undoctorly blush flushin’ her cheeks. “It may be a mite difficult juggling between the two of us, but we can certainly give it a go…if you want. You are tenderly beautiful and I won’t mind if Katie….”

Th’Pirate Queen’s eyebrow shot up an’ she coughed shortly. “Nay. I don’t mean that per se. Ye be nice ladies an’ all, but I’m…I’m really, really exhausted – entirely spent, y’know. I mean separate hammocks. For us, separately. One fer th’two o’ye together…well, ye know what I mean…an’ meself in another, separate hammock…on th’other side o’ th’ship, if possible.”

K.L. Krambalski dissolved into tears.

Cap’n Dyke stepped forward. “It’s not you two, really. It’s me..,”

“It’s not that!” Th’other woman cried. “It’s…I want Sentinella back and I want my own body back!”

“Ye bein’ Linda, correct?” Cap’n Dyke asked. “Just want t’be clear an’ all.”

Linda nodded. “I want to be with Katie, but not this close; too much closeness is…”

“Stifling.” Katie finished. “And it was okay when you snored when you were in your body, but snoring in my body just isn’t…well, what I expected when we met.”

“If we continue like this, we may implode! Will you help us find Sableux Del Malvado and make her take this curse off of us – and give me my dog back?” Linda pled. “Please, I’ll do anything.”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen started pacin’. “So, ye want me t’find an evil sea-witch, who is powerful enough t’merge ye into one body…”

“She can strike up a mean storm too.” Kate interrupted. “We really don’t know all she’s capable of. We’ve only had the chance to see her work magic once…on us. Well, I suppose you could count her putting us on that tiny island.”

Cap’n Dyke shot a dark look in their general direction an’ continued pacin’. “Just go in there an’ demand that she do th’right thing by ye, that be what ye want me t’do?” She stopped in front of Krambalski, crossed her arms an’ glared down at them. “Easy as fallin’ off a griddle onto a block o’ice, I’m sure.”

K.L. Krambalski looked away, miserable sad.

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen heaved a grand sigh. “Fine, I’ll do it.” She called out for Blue Gal, who took Krambalski out of th’cabin t’find them a suitable place t’sleep, then shut th’cabin door an’ sat down with a weary thump.

“If they just wouldn’t look miserable sad. I can take anythin’ but a woman who looks miserable sad. Well, that an’ really bad eggs.” She whispered as she finished her rum.

******

Th’dawn a fortnight later found th’Pirate Ship floatin’ in a hidden bay off Tortuga Island.

“Pray tell how ye intend t’crash smack into a weddin’ most likely attended by more musket-carryin’ lobster-backs than guests?” Gunner Mark demanded.

“Yer Royal Highness?” Cap’n Dyke called out an’ stepped aside. HRH Princess Buttercup, the Noble PowderMonkey, smiled an’ came forward. Walnut an’ th’Invisible Ninja Bodyguard lugged a heavy wooden chest between them an’ put it down with a grand thunk behind her.

“We’ve got one evening to teach you all the manners of fine ladies!” She announced an’ clapped with delight. “But don’t worry, I’ve got everything we need.”

Miss Ann exchanged dour glances with Belle Dame, then said. “Let me guess, we be playin’ dress-up t’be takin’ our minds off th’massacre that’s about t’occur. Our massacre, I might add fer any o’ye that might have missed th’nuance.”

“Nobody’s dressin’ me up like a doll!” Gunner Mark exclaimed.

“Nope!” Charred chimed in. “Me neither!”

“I’m afraid my manly ego just couldn’t stand for it. Please don’t make me!” Walnut beseeched Th’ Cap’n.

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen said naught – for about two seconds. “Fine.” She quipped. “That will be quite fine, gentlemen.” As th’men relaxed, she added. “Ye can scout ahead when we go in. Ye’ll have t’watch out fer th’patrols that surely await any sign of pirates comin’ back t’rescue Young Lady Francis. It be her weddin’ day an’ every warship from Th’Keys t’San Paulo will be in Tortuga Bay. Oh, an’ th’soldiers that accompany th’noble lords an’ ladies that are comin’ t’ th’nuptials, no doubt. Th’lobsters will be thick as lice on a beggar’s back, but ye can handle it, I’m sure. It be a fine ‘manly-type’ thing t’do, don’t ye think? Ye will cause quite a diversion when they find ye. All. Four. Of. Ye. Alone. By. Yourselves.”

Th’male crewmembers who’d demurred looked a mite uncomfortable. “Better yet.” Cap’n Dyke said with a grin. “Why don’t ye just stay aboard ship?”

“An’ protect her, aye!” Gunner Mark agreed.

“An’ clean.” Th’lesbian Pirate Queen glared. “Ye can protect her if need be between yer turns in th’bosun’s chair cleanin’ th’skids and detritus off th’hull an’ bailing th’muckwater out o’ th’bilge. Ye can conscript th’rats t’help ye with th’latter – if ye can pry them away from their game. Rescuin’ Young Lady Francis can be th’chore fer th’women, eh Me Fine Fancy Ladies?” This article o’ship democracy attended to, Th’ Cap’n turned t’Princess Buttercup. “Yer Highness may continue with th’lesson, if ye please.”

******

Young Lady Francis bit her lusciously full bottom lip with apprehension and dread as her maid placed a foot in the small of her back and jerked the strings of her corset with enough force to make her feel like someone had just kicked her in the stomach – or pushed her off a very high cliff. She’d stalled the wedding as long as she could, citing womanly-type maladies that her father and Twittlepoop would know nothing about. And it had worked, until her maiden-aunt, Auntie Issy, arrived a fortnight past.

Auntie Issy had never married, but had not given up the chase, even at the spry age of sixty-three years. When she found out that Young Lady Francis was against linking herself to Commodore Twittlepoop, all her aunt could do was go on about his muscles and how tall he was, how red his cheeks were and how manly he seemed. Young Lady Francis’ excuses were just not acceptable once Aunt Issy held court in the Governor’s Mansion.

“Don’t be Friday-faced!” She had pischawed when her niece said she hated him and would never marry him. “It doesn’t pay to be too picksome and it doesn’t matter in the end if they have no brains or any sense at all. As to marriage, what’s a few tussles in the hay? He’ll go off soon enough with some light o’love — probably several, after you’ve settled into married life. A horse doesn’t like to stay in the same pature too long, what?” Aunty Issy had guffawed with a sharp nudge in Young Lady Francis’ side. “But it’s okay to show him you’re no bit of muslin, my girl. Make him buy you something pretty and bring it to you before he mounts!”

“Aunty Issy!” Young Lady Francis had exclaimed. “There will be no ‘mounting’ at all!”

“I’ll not hear another word.” Aunt Issy had declared. “I’ve traveled this long way to see you wedded and bedded and it shall be done!”

Now the day was here and the Governor’s beautiful daughter was being dressed for the kill.

“My, but you colour-up pretty.” Aunt Issy admired. “I admit that the Commodore is certainly not a swell of the first stare, but as long as he’s fairly flush in the pockets, you’ll never have to worry about a thing. I wish all these long years I would have been leg-shackled proper but it isn’t in the cards for your aunty yet, my dear. Maybe at the wedding someone will offer for me. I’m not a mean bit yet and anyone who dares call me an ape-leader will find me pulling caps with them. I may be older, but I’m well-inlaid. Come now, don’t just stand there, Francis, lift your arms up and let your woman adjust your wedding gown. There! How marvelous you look! You will shine everyone else down, ‘pon my word! What a tempting armful you are!”

******

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen held back an’ let th’gaggle o’women pass by. She ducked behind a willin’ bush an’ tugged vigorously on her corset through th’peach muslin.

“Captain!”

Cap’n Dyke jumped an’ spun t’face her foe, then relaxed when she saw it was but Princess Buttercup. “Leave things as they are!” Th’ Noble PowerMonkey whispered t’her fiercely. If you fuss with it too much it’ll be hell to get you back in again!”

“I’m fair poppin’ out o’ this dress as it is, woman.” Th’delightful dyke hissed back. “We be needin’ a diversion, but me breasts leapin’ forth an’ givin’ everyone a fine huzzah isn’t part o’ th’plan!”

Princess Buttercup reached behind Th’ Cap’n an’ adjusted somethin’. “Well, ye are quite well-favoured.” She admitted. “There. Is that better?”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen tucked a bit here an’ there, then nodded. “Aye.”

“And no more Cap’n Dyke speech.” Buttercup reminded her. “You are Lady Winterforest, second cousin twice removed from the Earl of Atholl.” Cap’n Dyke nodded an’ started t’walk away from th’enclosure.

“And don’t walk like you’re on deck. Walk like a ‘lady’. Your boot tops show when you walk like that.” Th’Princess murmured beside her. “If I saw you coming at me the way you’re striding out now, I’d hide my daughters and the good silver!”

“An’ ye’d be wise t’do so.” Th’Pirate Queen chucked. Still, she did as bade an’ minced like she’d been taught. “No wonder damsels are always in distress.” She grumbled as they made their way towards the front gate of the town’s church. “They can’t run; they can’t breathe. I’ve been in chains less binding than this damned…” She stopped abruptly and broke into a girlish titter, directing it towards the two lobsterback guards blocking their way into the wedding. “Oh my!” She simpered in her ‘haute’ accent. “Just look, Beth! Francis is so lucky to have such strong, handsome fellows looking over her on her wedding day!”

Princess Buttercup fanned herself as the two men winked at them and then they were in.

******

Young Lady Francis looked frantically for a way to escape from the transept in which she stood dressed like a cooked swan on its way to the table of a debauched Roman Emperor. There was one way in and, therefore, one way out. Her father had deposited her therein two hours before under the watchful eye of Aunty Issy.

The maids had dressed and refreshed her long past, or so it seemed to the frazzled young woman, and Aunty Issy had sailed out as soon as the first guests started to assemble in the church proper to trade polite murmurings and dark gossip with those she knew.

Young Lady Francis couldn’t sit down – she tried and had a devil of a time getting her bustle back to its bustle-place after it slipped over to rest on her left hip. Now she just leaned her elbows wearily against the small altar and rested her pert chin in her hands hoping that her murderous thoughts about Gerald Twittlepoop would come to fruition before he arrived at the church.

“Francis!”

The young woman startled as Aunty Issy came bursting through the door to her holding cell. “He’s here, ‘pon rep!” Aunt Issy gushed, rushing over to prod her niece, pushing this, pulling that. “The sacred moment is upon us! Soon you’ll be a bride no more, but a happy wife nestled against her husband’s brawny, furred chest abed, what!”

“I think I’m going to vomit.” Young Lady Francis declared dully. “In fact, I know I’ll vomit if you keep spewing like that.”

“Hush, girl.” Her aunty shushed. “It’s just pre-wedding nerves you’re feeling. Soon it will all be over…”

******

The young woman startled as Aunty Issy came bursting through the door to her holding cell. “He’s here, ‘pon rep!” Aunt Issy gushed, rushing over to prod her niece, pushing this, pulling that. “The sacred moment is upon us! Soon you’ll be a bride no more, but a happy wife nestled against her husband’s brawny, furred chest abed, what!”

“I think I’m going to vomit.” Young Lady Francis declared dully. “In fact, I know I’ll vomit if you keep spewing like that.”

“Hush, girl.” Her aunty shushed. “It’s just pre-wedding nerves you’re feeling. Soon it will all be over…”

******

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen pushed past the line of attendees to get to a spare seat in the pew, nodding demurely and mouthing politeness when she errantly trod on someone’s toes now and again. Just before she made her seat a sharp pinch stung her backside. She whirled back, thunder and lightening in her eyes, to waylay her offender. A small bird of a man with a monocle smiled and winked at her. She opened her mouth, but Princess Buttercup gave her a quick shove forward. Cap’n Dyke sighed and moved to her seat. As soon as HRH PB settled in next to her, Th’ Cap’n started to scan the crowd about her.

“Not polite.” Buttercup murmured between closed lips.

“At this point, I don’t give a holy shit.” Cap’n Dyke growled low. “I want to know where the doors to this place are. Did you happen to see Blue Gal and the others when we were wending our way in?”

“They’re dispersed between the south doors and the nave above.”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen had to smile. “And how in Hades did you manage to take all that in? I could barely see past where my next step was falling.”

“Training, my dear C.” The Princess smiled back. “Training.”

The wedding music began with a deep sigh of the organ above…

******

Barnaby Herkimer Blacksmythe tucked his daughter’s hand into the crook of his arm and held it tightly, more to ensure against her flight then to demonstrate tenderness. “You’ll thank me for this one day, Francis, mark my words.”

Young Lady Francis said nothing. Her father led her out of the transept and along the outer aisle until they stood at the south doors leading into the chapel. The crowd ahead was like a sea of pickled herring packed by an overzealous four year-old and the candles glowed like the eyes of a hungry rabbit to the angry nubile daughter of the Governor. The organ above them hesitated a moment, then launched into the piece designated as that which would send her towards the oaf who stood waiting ahead.

As they stepped into the chapel all hell broke loose. Someone cracked Governor Barnaby Herkimer Blacksmythe right proper on th’noggin’ an’ laid him flatter than a toddler’s bosom. Several someones set fire t’ a good number of th’tapestries that hung down on th’sides o’ th’chapel an’ two particular someones grabbed th’bride and ran.

Luckily for all these someones, those assembled for th’ceremony displayed th’right amount of shock an’ awe — an’ then panic, durin’ th’proceedings mentioned t’allow Th’ Cap’n t’claw an’ scramble her way o’er them. She stopped momentarily t’crack th’small bird of a man with a monocle who’d pinched her on his shiny, bald pate with th’haft o’ th’dagger she’d stowed inside her peach-coloured muslin, then leaped an’ weaved her way about until she stood beside th’unconscious Governor.

“Right then,” She laughed. “Enough o’ this mummery!”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen used th’keen edge o’ th’blade t’slice right through the front o’ th’gown an’ stood in a splendid fashion statement o’sable-boned corset, black leather breeches an’ knee-high boots (t’get a gander, take a peep at th’pic at th’top of this segment). She turned an’ caught th’sword Blue Gal tossed her way, then bowed gracefully t’all an’sundry. Buttercup tugged her arm an’ they were off an’ away.

Outside, the lobsterbacks gathered knew somethin’ was afoot inside th’church, what with all th’shoutin’ goin’ on an’ all th’black smoke an’ stampedin’ people that were comin’ out o’ th’doors, but their officers were inside attendin’ th’weddin’ o’ their Commodore an’ they were clueless as how t’proceed, especially seein’ that they were bein’ trampled by panicked grandees an’ladies. They’d been told an’ told time an’ time again that initiative wasn’t rewarded in this man’s army. What it would get you want most likely a swift kick in th’jewels, that’s what it would get you.

This was enough t’cause most o’ th’soldiers t’back away from th’maddenin’ crowd an’ have a seat t’watch th’fun. Didn’t matter t’them either way, actually.

******

When they were relatively safe on th’outskirts o’Tortuga, Cap’n Dyke ripped th’dress off o’Young Lady Francis, leavin’ her in an extremely-fetchin’ matched set o’ corset an’pantaloons.

“Cap’n!” Blue Gal admonished an’ stopped in her tracks. “We’re not even out o’sight o’ th’town! Control yourself!”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen rolled her eyes. “Can’t run in that contrivance, now can she? Hurry now, Young Lady Francis, into th’jungle!”

Young Lady Francis laid a slender hand on th’Pirate Queen’s attractively muscled arm – which was fit enough t’be fetchin’, but not enough for one t’be thinkin’ she was takin’ somethin’ t’bulk up. “You risked your life to save me.” She said, doe-eyes wide. “I swear I’ll thank you properly.”

“Ummm,” Th’ Cap’n coughed an’ patted th’luscious half-naked lass’ hand shortly. “Jungle first, thankin’ later, eh?”

******

Young Lady Francis laid a slender hand on th’Pirate Queen’s attractively muscled arm – which was fit enough t’be fetchin’, but not enough for one t’be thinkin’ she was takin’ supplements t’bulk up. “You risked your life to save me.” She said, doe-eyes wide. “I swear I’ll thank you properly.”

“Ummm,” Th’ Cap’n coughed an’ patted th’luscious half-naked lass’ hand shortly. “Jungle first, thankin’ later, eh?”

******

Aunty Issy was in a tizzy. She ordered men to put out the fires, others to haul her cataleptic brother off to his bed and to fetch his personal physician, then cleared out the church with promises of food and spirits waiting in the grand garden of the Governor’s Mansion. Next, she stomped up the now-slippery stone aisle of the chapel and stood looking up at Gerald Twittlepoop.

“Commodore indeed!” She railed. “You didn’t even put up a fight, you cutting sham of a man!”

Twittlepoop pulled off his fine hat and ground it between his fists worriedly. “Well, m’am…you see, umm, I’ve been up against that cluster before. Easier to just let them think they have their way for now and all, actually. I’ll get some fellows together and we set off straight way after them, m’am. Did you happen to see, by chance, which way they went?”

Aunty Izzy hit him hard on one arm with her portmanteau.

******

Cap’n Dyke struck an’slashed her way through th’overgrowth around her. “Lean into it, ye blighted bosom-bearers! They’ll be after us soon! We’ll get t’ th’ship an’ be off afore they find us with th’luck o’ me mother an’ little else!”

Th’piratical woman hacked th’vines away from their path with renewed vigor.

Blue Gal stood near th’viciously swingin’ Pirate Queen an’ cleared her throat. To no effect. She cleared it once more with feelin’. Naught. Finally, she just lifted up her cutlass an’ parried th’next strike down of Th’lesbian Pirate Queen’s blade.

“What?!” Th’ Cap’n stopped an’ asked, sweat wendin’ delightful, delicate paths from her brow into th’furrow between her heavin’ bosoms.

“Why don’t we just be takin’ th’path back t’ th’ship then?” Queried Th’BlogMate.

“Path?”

“Th’one th’other women an’ I took while ye an’ th’Princess were ridin’ in that fancy carriage ye highwayjacked from that fat sod on th’road.”

Cap’n Dyke reached o’er an’ grabbed th’untucked end o’Redd Turtle’s piratical puffy linen shirt an’ dabbed th’dew off her chest, then acknowledged. “Oh, that path. Right then, ladies, to th’path.”

******

Th’pirate crew hurried on as darkness grew like menopausal hair on a granny’s chin. Young Lady Francis kept up sparklingly – as she’d had prior piratical experience, short-lived that it was, that an’ she was now clad in an extremely-fetchin’ matched set o’ corset an’pantaloons.

“As soon as we set sail, we’ll have ye decked out proper once again, Young Lady Francis.” Th’lesbian Pirate Queen noted as they hurried along.

Young Lady Francis pulled Th’ Cap’n, as well as th’whole crew that had been trottin’ along behind them, t’ a halt. “Captain,” She said. “You can stop calling me Young Lady Francis. I don’t want to be that anymore. Not young. Not Lady. Not Francis.”

Cap’n Dyke regarded her quizzically – albeit th’Governor’s beautiful, young daughter didn’t quite catch th’look as th’gatherin’ dark made it somewhat difficult t’discern facial nuance.

Young Lady Francis took th’silence that accompanied th’facial nuance as a polite awaitin’ on th’part o’ th’Pirate Queen an’ continued. “I want to be a woman and a pirate and I want to be called Fran.”

“Fran.” Cap’n Dyke echoed.

“Fran.”

“Alrighty…Fran.” Th’delectable dyke replied. “On towards th’ship then.”

Everyone started forward once again. Once again, Fran stopped Th’ Cap’n.

“Really, Fran.” Th’ Cap’n sighed. “We truly need t’be off.”

“I’d like to thank you for saving me, Captain.”

“Ye be most…”

“You may kiss me.” Th’ex-Young, ex-Lady, ex-Francis told her.

A shout went up from th’waitin’ crowed behind them. “Just do it, Cap’n! She’s been pinin’ for ye this whole long time an’ I want t’get back t’ th’ship an’ get me some rum!”

Cap’n Dyke scowled an’ growled at th’crowd. “Who said that?” She demanded.

Da Nator whistled whist Lily, Th’Ship’s GYN, pointed down at th’Bosun with a wicked grin. Blue Gal stepped forward.

“A., just kiss th’girl.” She said as she kicked aside a small, red crab that was scuttlin’ across th’path an’ could have sworn that some sort o’strange, snappy, island music suddenly stopped when she did so. “Just kiss her.” Th’BlogMate repeated. “I’m ready for me hammock.”

Th’lesbian Pirate Queen reached o’er suddenly, roughly pullin’ Fran up against her chest. “So, ye want t’kiss a lesbian Pirate Queen?” Th’sweet, nubile thing managed t’emit a small squeak afore Th’ Cap’ lifted her hands t’Fran’s face an’ brought th’woman’s lips close t’her own.

Lady Francis closed her eyes, her heart beatin’ like a thousand aborigines poundin’ a thousand drums; a thousand aborigines drunk on kiwi-wine. A thousand aborigines who hadn’t gotten any sleep an’ were slap-happy at three bells in th’mornin’. Aye, that kind o’beatin’ for certain sure.

Th’Pirate Queen’s lips were soft. Soft as th’down on th’back o’ a chick’s neck; soft as th’answer from children whose mother just asked what that noise was. An’ firm. Firm as a grog wench’s well-shaped hiney. Firm as th’answer yer boss gave ye when ye asked fer more money. Firm as…well, ye get th’idea. Th’kiss transported Fran an’ she swooned. Indeed, th’kiss would have knocked her socks off – if she’d been wearin’ socks.

“There.”Cap’n Dyke said quietly when she stepped away. “Ye’ve kissed a lesbian Pirate Queen.” She turned on her heel an’ strode away down th’path. Th’crew was gatherin’ up a faint Fran, an’ getting’ ready t’follow, when they heard Th’ Cap’n swear.

“Spiders. Dammit, I hate spiders!”

“What spiders?” Miss Ann asked, as she walked up in th’dusky dusk t’where Th’ Cap’n stood. “I don’t mind brushin’ aside a few spiders. Ye step on ‘em, if ye have t’, although I don’t like it one bit when they pop under me boot. Horrid sound that.”

“Lasiodora parahybanatigris. Big spider. Big, big spider. Don’t like them one bit.” Th’ Cap’n commented.

“Granted spiders are nasty bits.” Th’SwordMistress acquiesced “But…”

Cap’n Dyke held up a silencin’ hand an’ pointed forward. In th’tropical twilight, Miss Ann an’ th’rest o’ th’crew saw them. Spiders. Spiders sittin’ in webs that spanned th’path. Big spiders. Big, big spiders with bodies that looked as large as wheels o’fine Cheddar. Big, big spiders with bodies that looked as large as wheels o’fine Cheddar an’ glitterin’ eyes.

Belle Dame stepped up, heftin’ her double-bladed axe. She sized up th’spiders, th’big, big spiders, with bodies that looked as large as wheels o’fine Cheddar an’ glitterin’ eyes, an’ then turned t’look at th’lesbian Pirate Queen. “What say we go back t’slashin’ at th’overgrowth?”

*******

Charred punched Gunner Mark in th’bicep an’ pointed towards th’sea proper. “Does that look like a frigate t’ye then?”

Gunner Mark threw his boar-bristle brush into th’mucky bucket that hung from th’bosun’s chair an’ peered into th’dark