What you are now reading are my memoirs of the time I spent in a pirate settlement called Bootleg. The following tales narrate my sexual adventures during that part of my life, and explain the path that led me to into the buccaneer underground. The stories vary in content, everything from romantic interludes, to group sex, and bondage. I offer no apology for the contents, nor do I feel shame for my actions. I am proud to have escaped the confines of correct society and lived my life in the way I pleased; independent, unfettered, and unbound. Sincerely, Georgette Noel
Chapter 1 -- The Beginning
The best thing to do is start at the beginning so everything is clear. I decline to give my last name out of respect for my family, but I was born the daughter of a wealthy noble. The family was respectable, an old family of means, and I was raised to adhere to all of virtues that were expected of ladies of my rank.
My father died when I was fifteen and my mother remarried one year later. We left the home where I'd been raised to live with her new husband, his seven natural sons, one adopted son, and their wives. My life was normal until I was eighteen, and of an age to marry. That's when the adopted son began casting his eyes on me in a way that was not quite appropriate for a married man. I should have put a stop to it in the very beginning, but I was young, curious, and flattered.
This particular man's name was Andrew. He was the natural son of a childhood friend of my stepfather. When both his parents had been killed, my stepfather had taken him in and adopted him as his own. I suppose he was handsome, but I had never thought of him in that way. The idea never entered my mind until he began showing me extra attention.
There came a day when we were stranded during a storm in one of the outbuildings. It was a tool shed that the gardener used, just a narrow little shack in a remote corner of the garden. Andrew and I stood together in the door and gazed out at an opaque sheet of rain that curtained the entrance. We were not going anywhere soon.
Suddenly I was aware that he was looking at me very intently. "You're getting so pretty, Georgette. I wonder....have you ever touched a man before?"
"No. Not like you mean." I said, flushing scarlet.
"Of course not." he said in an ironic tone. "They teach you girls to sew, but not how to please men. You're old enough to marry off now, you know."
"I know that father is thinking of making a match for you. You really should be prepared for what's in store for your wedding night."
I watched, feeling slightly panicked as he began unfastening his pants. I wanted to look away, but I just couldn't do it. I didn't even protest when he took my hand and guided me to stroke his penis. What really fascinated me about it was the way it began to grow hard at my touch. It roused a strange feeling in me, and I felt a peculiar wetness develop between my legs.
I wasn't completely naive. I knew how men were made, of course -- sort of. In my inexperience, I had expected a man's member to be just a long, smooth shaft, not this thing with bulging veins and purple, mushroom shaped head. I was also taken aback by the size. I'd had the idea that it wouldn't be much larger than a finger, and was horrified by how long and thick it was. I couldn't imagine something like that fitting in my body.
But I couldn't take my eyes off it. I watched as drops of pre-cum began to ooze from the little nick in the head. As my exploring hand rubbed them in, I noticed that it made his skin slick and easier to stroke.
"You like it don't you?" he whispered. "You know it took my wife six months before she could stand to look at me naked? They just don't prepare you girls for the realities of marriage. Come here."
Taking my hand, he pulled me deeper into the shed. Placing one hand on each of my shoulders, he pushed me to a sitting position on an overturned keg. "What are you doing?" I asked nervously, as he put one hand on my head and held his penis in front of my face.
"You should be prepared for when you get married, Georgette. You should know how to please your husband before your wedding night so you aren't fumbling around in confusion. "
His penis was right in front of my eyes and was all I could see. I saw another glistening drop of pre-cum form and instinctively licked my lips.
"That's right. You want to know what a man tastes like, don't you?"
Of course I did. I was completely mesmerized as I watched the little drop slowly ooze down the shaft as another formed behind it. Experimentally, I flicked it with my tongue.
"Yes...." he whispered "Keep going."
I did as he said, compelled by a force that I did not understand. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I couldn't stop myself. My actions were governed not by him, or by my own will, but by the throbbing feeling going on between my legs. I licked the entire length up and down, my tongue possessing a deftness of which I hadn't known it was capable.
"Now suck on it. Like this." He pushed my head forward, at the same time, gently thrusting into my mouth.
Getting the idea, I willingly mimicked the motion, bobbing my head back and forth up his thick, meaty pole. Gradually I learned the pace that he seemed to like, and how much pressure and suction to use. It was the most incredible experience I'd ever had.
"Hold still now and relax," he said sharply. "Hold still and it will be easier." Holding my head firmly with his hands, he began to fuck my mouth. I tried to push him away, but he held me fast, his coarse pubic hair chafing my face with the force of his grinding against it. My eyes teared up, and I choked a bit, but he didn't seem overly bothered by it.
It lasted for only a few seconds, but seemed like forever. "Swallow it all," he said, and I had only a moment to wonder what he was talking about before it happened. I gagged on his semen as ropes of the sticky white stuff filled my throat. When he was done, he smoothed my hair and told me I should be proud of myself for pleasing him so well. "My wife still won't do that for me," he said. "I have to pay the chambermaid."
I was quiet, still thinking about what had just happened, and remained so until the rain stopped and we went our separate ways. For a day or two after that we avoided each other as much as we could. I was horrified that I'd done such a thing, but every time I thought about it I felt that nagging wetness return.
Even though I resolved not to let it happen again, three days later he found me in a secluded corner of the library. I don't know how it came about. He must have said something, I must have replied. All I know is that I ended up on my knees with his penis down my throat again.
This time he finished by pulling out and shooting semen all over my face. I recoiled and almost screamed at him, but his wife entered the room at that moment and called him. Thankfully we were secreted behind some shelves, or we would have been discovered then and there. He calmly fastened his pants, tossed me a handkerchief, and went to meet her as if nothing had happened.
I knew things had gone too far, and I knew it wasn't going to stop. I liked it too much. After that, it was a regular happening; once, sometimes more each day. There was a thrill to the forbiddeness of it. We had no feeling for each other -- it was danger and dirtiness that we sought from one another.
Danger indeed. It was the start of the chain of events that would cause my expulsion from my home and land me in a pirate settlement one hundred leagues and a universe away from the gentle life into which I had been born