Love At Sea: De La en Glässer

But not all beggars could be choosers

"Cockerell it does not have to be like this." Macmillan went ignored. "The scallywag that would lead ye t' victory. Gold, loot, proud beauties would be t' yer name." Cheers of joy rang out in the air. "I understand ye scallywags 'ave been without the soft folds o' a strumpet." He gestured towards the sexually frustrated men. "But alas thar be if me assumption be correct- a lassy on board." Cockerell turned for Macmillan. It was then he realised Loomy was not present. "Oh shit." He swore.

Davy Jones sat by the captain's desk. He had emptied the little pot of ink Cockerell had given him and now he was on a quest at finding a new one. His drawings were incomplete and as the first man had told him, there were different types to a woman's body. He bent down and searched one of the drawers. Bernadette gave a little whimper and turned her body in a slight angle. The sheet that covered her was drawn down and so the roundness of her breast could be seen. He gripped his paper and stared. It was a wonder that he had never fantasied about how she looked underneath the manly clothes she wore. Though the men did, and the group had been led by Loomy. Cockerell had even joined in once or twice. Loomy had talked so salaciously about Bernadette that it became more than obvious that he was stuck in between her legs and would give anything for a feel of her pubes. Who would not?

Even he had been filled with such carnal thoughts that he felt at just ten and three he could take on his first lady, with enough coin of course. He stared at the paper once more before moving for the bed. His hands shook and his mind rebelled, his heart beat tenfold but that voice in his head told him 'pull the sheets, you know you want to see.' He settled himself on the bed too afraid to make any noise, even his breathing seemed loud enough. His hands crept to the sheets. He was just about to pull them off when he heard the loud steps of a man's feet. Scared he jumped and hid under the bed.

The door opened with a softness. Whoever that was, did not expect to find anyone but the lassy in. The person moved in and shut the door slowly. The lock was twisted. Davy Jones watched for the shoes the person wore, but as it had seemed, the shoes had been removed before entering the room. He could not help but stare at the ugly toes that were dirtied underneath the nails and purplish brown in colour. A soft flick filled the space and the person's pants fell to the floor. The odour of the stained creamy sticky substance hit Davy Jones in the face. He winkled his nose to keep himself from sneezing. "'Twon't be long lassy. I am goin' t' treat ye better than the cap'n can." Panic rose up in Davy Jones bones but there was nothing he could do. He was no much for Loomy.

The bed groaned as the huge man lifted his weight to the mattress. Davy Jones closed his eyes as he recalled the sad tales of how John had been a victim to such horrendous assaults. He had to do something he swore, he had to protect the lassy at all costs. "Stop it you pig or else I will tell Cockerell on you." Loomy froze in his spot. His lust filled eyes left the still covered lady in the bed to the boy that called himself a man. "Wha' will ye do if I do nah?" Loomy run a hand along her high, he applied pressure but not enough to awake her. Strange she was still fast asleep, he wanted her presence awake as she took him whole, but not all beggars could be choosers. He moved his hand to lift off the sheets.

"Stop!" Davy Jones cried. His voice was loud enough to wake Bernadette. She looked up hazily and could not for the sake of her understand why a man was hovering above her- on top of her. Her senses cleared. "Pipe it down ye rascal. Ye know wha' I am goin' t' show ye how t' handle a strumpet so that the next time we make port ye can 'ave yer owns." Davy Jones thought of the idea, it did seem pleasant, but this was the lassy- Bernadette they were talking about. The same girl that had given him food when he was hungry. "I guess I could see. Cockerell talked about us sticking in ourselves in between their legs, but there are two holes, which one do you use?" He brought out his paper to his view.

Loomy turned back to the lassy who stared at him wide eyed with fear etched across her face. He smiled. "The one that pleases ye the more." He gripped her hands and pinned them above her head. The process lifted up her breasts and he was more than eager to see what she had underneath. "But-" The boy's words were cut as a heavy Loomy fell to the floor with a loud groan. Alarmed he looked up. Captain Macmillan Wilbur held a bloody sword to his neck. Davy Jones stared back at him, confused, perplexed and anxious. "You are not going to kill me?" He tried asking. Macmillan took a glance at the bleeding corpse of what was once his man. "I have every right to." He pushed the blade lower to the boy's chest.