The scent of the sea filled her nose as she ran awkwardly along its coast, feet stumbling over the cooling sand. A sharp pain shot throughout her left foot suddenly, causing her to fall down to her knees, and the shoes she had been carrying in her slender fingers went flying. Cursing loudly, she pulled her foot onto her lap, and examined it as a brief sliver of moonlight was cast over her. It was only a small piece of glass, presumably from one of the beer bottles that were scattered like flower petals upon the shoreline. She pulled it out gently, throwing the bloody remnant into the water, and started towards "Tortuga's Sea Treasures" once more.
10 minutes later, she pulled open the rotting wood door, and entered into the dressing room, bumping into a red-head named Sally.
"Oh! I'm so sorry Sally, didn't see you there." She said apologetically, giving her a quick hug before hurrying on.
"It's alrighty there me child!" she replied, waving her arms enthusiastically. "I do believe me hour's ov---" added Sally, not even bothering to finish her sentence before hurrying out the door.
Smiled. Sally was drunk again, but she understood why. There was truly only one way you could go to work here everyday…and that was drunk. Night after night she tantalized men with her suggestive dancing and night after night the dressing room was burst in upon by some man who wanted more than just suggestions. Oh sure, she had applied for different "Tortuga's Sea Treasure" jobs, but the owner wouldn't move her. She was the only French woman they had working here, and he wasn't about to let her go. Everyday she said it was her last. Every time she was groped, pinched, slapped…every time she said it was her last. It wasn't though. Once you had been employed at this place, no one else would give you a job.
Sighing, she slipped behind a thin cotton sheet and pulled off her dress, slipping it under a cabinet so it wouldn't be stolen. She took out a dress from inside a closet, put it on and looked in the mirror. The owner had said she was perfect for the job. Petite, pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes, and a body different from the Tortuga locals. The dress (if you could call it that), clung tightly to her body. The top part was white silk, and it barely covered her chest. The bottom was a flimsy, impossibly thin piece of cloth that had originally gone down to her feet, put from so many men pulling on it, ripping it, doing unspeakable things to it, that now it barely covered her knees.
She pulled the corset tight, making her small waist even smaller, and in the process enhancing her chest even more. She let her long hair down from it's bun, letting it flow down her sides, and just added another coat of lipstick, letting her natural beauty shine through.
Outside, the men were getting rowdy, waiting for their next prey to pounce upon. Begrudgingly, she walked towards the door and opened it, stepping out into a room full of evil.
Jack sat in the back today. Hung-over from a raunchy night before, he didn't feel like mingling with the other drunken fools. He didn't even want to come tonight. Wanted to sleep the night away on his ship, but he had had an important business meeting, one he didn't want to pass up. So he came.
Ordering another rum, he drank it quickly and was about to leave when the attitude of the crowd changed. Men started whistling, cheering and all around making noises he wouldn't have wanted his mother to hear. Settling back down, he decided to see what it was all about…
Stepping through the doorway, she immediately plastered a seductive smile onto her face, years of practice made it simple yet effective tool. Weaving through the tables, she lifted her arms above her head and began to dance. Slithering her body this way and that, slowly at first, letting the men get hungry. She went faster and faster, in and out of the tables, hands down at her sides now, pulling her dress up to the middle of her thighs now and then, letting the men just watch her. But then…she stopped.
They howled at her to start again, each one now imagining the possibilities. She headed to the back of the room, where an empty table was positioned for her purpose. Frowning slightly as she noticed a man sitting down at it, she quickly plastered the smile back on her face again. Jumping cat-like onto it, the men began to howl again, and she smiled. They gathered around her table, each one grabbing out for her, but she stayed in the middle where they could not reach her.
She slowly went down, her dress riding up her legs as she did the splits, coming to a stop right below her buttocks. The men whistled and yelled, reaching out to touch her now uncovered legs. She crawled slowly forward, still in the splits, letting the men have a glimpse at her chest. She stopped in front of the strange man whom she had never seen around here, and placed a slender finger under his bearded chin and ran it up to his lips, resting it there. Looking into his eyes, she was shocked not to find desire there, but a look of sympathy. Regaining her composure, she slowly raised her finger from his lips and placed it seductively into her mouth, winking at him as she turned back towards the other men.
For the next hour, everything went fine. She continued to seduce the men with impossible stretches and suggestive dancing, luring them out of money and morality. Just before her shift ended, when she was trying out a new dance, a drunken fool came up behind her and before she knew it, had slit her corset strings. The dress fell loosely from her, revealing her breasts, but she quickly snatched it up before anything else was shone. The men howled and laughed, trying to rip the dress from her hands. Embarrassment made her cheeks burn red, as she hurried through the tables, trying to reach the back door. The drunken fool came upon her though, and slammed her into the wall, forcing his mouth upon hers, his tounge forcing it's way into her mouth.
Suddenly the man was off of her, and a gunshot rang throughout the room. The room didn't turn quiet, but the mad frenzy it had been just a minute before simmered down. The men parted as someone walked towards her, but she couldn't make out who it was. She was trying not to cry, holding her head defiantly as she stood there. Her hair was hanging in her face though, impairing her vision, yet she couldn't wipe it out of her way. Her hands were the only thing holding the dress up.
She felt someone grip her firmly around the waist, and a rough voice whispering "It's okay lass," into her ear, a beard scratching her cheek. Realizing who it was, she let herself be led stiffly out the front door, trying to maintain as much dignity as she possibly could.