The|MULTIVERSE

EPISODE 48: Estranged Relations

The Sanguine Bitch was her name, a heavily armored scarlet ship of roses and dazzling coral. She was the baddest ship sailing. Never the worst. And while the concept of the word baddest may come off as an inaccurate method of forming a superlative modifier, for the welfare of outrageous jargon to be had in this already rebellious form of seemingly impossible literature, calling Cardina's ship the baddest vessel to sail Oedimaar's seas was, in fact, a fitting terminology to use, for vulgarity-sake.

Furthermore, Ricven said it himself once. And none were foolish enough to challenge him in the proper use of dialect—or suffer themselves forever roasted on a pedestal of shame.

The giant ship left Tucanoo's Haven for Seven Isles, which was only a day's less travel at sea. They left before the sun dropped, which meant that they'd arrive before the next sun's fall, which ALSO meant that they'd have time to yank Ryoka from Daimon's mischief. The wedding began at noon, The Sanguine Bitch was fast. The multiversers were set in their rooms and ready...

And our hero and heroine of the moment were getting their knickers in a clammy knot inside the captainess' blossomy cabin of flowers, shimmering seashells, and living coral that made up half of the ship—for some fantastical reason that needed no explanation for the sake of strange wonderment.

Stuffed in the juicy rut of the pistol-popping, scimitar-wielding Cardina's bald-bishop-choking-zone thirsted a beast too picky to consume just any ole man-meat. Said man-meat had to be staunch in build and chock-full of gusto. They also had to survive the scorching captainess' furious melee, for Cardina had a dangerous eye and deadly trigger finger. Oh... And she also knew how to cut a man, woman, or beast down to sizable meat stacks with that floral scimitar that now laid on the floor...along with everything else that once adorned her flesh.

It was another one of those long time coming episodes. A year and some months have passed since their last time. She always had a way of running a rig when in need, too; playing little jokes in efforts to get what she wanted. In this case, it was Ricven's plank, which her tongue had walked upon many of times. Especially when she had him going from chamber to chamber in search for a jar of meridian jelly, two vials of crushed glimmer fish scales, a white feather, some shackles, a thick black sash, candles, and a muzzle.

Suffice to say, and it was quite a weird feat, Ricven returned with everything, and Cardina wasted no time shivering on out of her timbers as she was found lying in wait in her chambers, and demanded that Ricven sink the fuck out of her.

Oh... And she didn't require all of those things either.

Well... Except for the meridian jelly; and the shackles; the muzzle; and the sash.

First, he blindfolded her eyes with the sash and played her every curve and fleshy ways like a hot fiddle in a meat bin (don't ask). He parted her sea legs then ran a shot across the bow next, a blast-worthy warning command that, in this case, was something entirely different. She was muzzled-up like a dirty slave in shackles, moaning and groaning in a salty cellar, and he acted a fool when the climax was met. Playing the role of Sir McQueen the Cosmic Pirate King as he warned her of his cannon soon to fire. He yelled the words at that point—"FIRE IN THE HOLE!"—and spare not a quarter as he cracked her teacup to splinters.

And if the above account was too difficult to be consumed, then in efforts to clarify for the sake of shallow brains: it was fifty shades of spunk over here for they were fucking and sucking on each other.

When that all was said and cummed, the insatiable Cardina was still inclined to blow the Sepian down whilst they laid in disheveled sheets. Ricven, herb-puffing away showed off Tetracon's slew of celestial space magic, turning the greedy captainess' private cabin into an ethereal cosmo-dome of knowledge.