I stripped of my clothes and left them in a corner of the hotel room. I sat on the edge of
the bed, nude, staring at my feet. This was my life now, I was just another whore on the island of
Tortuga. The pay was pretty good though, so I guess it wasn't too bad. There was a mirror on the
other side of the room, and I was tempted to go look in it. So I stood up and walked across the
room, the wood floor cold against my bare feet. I'd changed to much in five years. Five years ago
I was 22; age makes a lot of difference. Then my hair was short, boy cut almost. My eyes had
been the brightest green anyone had ever seen. But time had taken it's toll on me. As I looked in
the mirror, my brunette hair fell just past my shoulders and wasn't well groomed. My eyes had
seemed to fade with the years and had lost their shine. I looked so different, I hardly even
recognized myself. If Sparrow were to ever come back, he wouldn't recognize me. That was
probably for the best though. He'd come back not long ago, and he didn't even come by to see
me.
The door to the hotel room entered, and the man who was paying for my services entered.
I sighed, wondering why I had gotten myself into this. Being a prostitute wasn't the most glorious
job out there, but being a woman I couldn't do much of anything else. This was the only way I
could get money. This or marry into a rich family, but that was never going to happen. I walked
back over to the bed, sitting down and grabbing a pillow. The man was still standing at the door,
his back to me, fumbling with the lock. Obviously he had too much to drink. Maybe that's what
took him so long.
He finally turned around, and his eyes went straight to my breasts. It wasn't that he was
unattractive, but... Well, okay, he was very unattractive. He had buck teeth sticking out of his
mouth, dirty and unkempt, and his hair was gray, not that he had much anyway. His eyes were a
dark, mucky kind of green color, and I think one was glass. I looked down and saw the bulge in
his pants. He stripped and left his clothes in a pile. And I thought he was unattractive with clothes
on. Ah, the glamourous life of a prostitute.
His arms grabbed hold of me and lifted me off the bed. He pressed his lips against mine
and his tongue entered my mouth. The smell of his breath was enough to gag me alone, but his
tongue going down my throat made it even worse. There was a peculiar taste in his mouth, but I
couldn't quite put my finger on it. He fondled my breasts with his rough hands. I noticed his
hands were wet, and I really hoped it was rum and not something else. He pushed me back and I
fell on the bed, him landing on top of me. Two hundred and fifty pounds of old man on top of my
was not pleasant. I was having troubles breathing, but I wasn't sure if it was because he was
smashing me or from his tongue down my throat. Too much tongue was definitely a bad thing.
There was a knock on the door, and within seconds he was off of my. Oxygen is a sweet
thing. "Whaddya want?" he yelled, his words slurred with too much rum.
"Sir, if you have a prostitute in there you need to get out! We don't take well to that kind
of behavior here," the voice on the other side said. It was a young woman, probably the one who
had greeted us when we came in.
"What's it to ya if I'm havin' sex in here! It's none 'o ya business what I do!" he shouted
angrily. By then though I already had my clothes back on, and I was ready to leave. Thank God I
didn't have to have sex with this old man.
"I'm leaving. Keep your money, I don't want to deal with this," I said, pushing him out of
the way and walking out the door. Obviously he was dumbstruck by what just happened. Most
guys would have been running out after me, forcing me back into the room, but he just stood
there blinking in the doorway. It was back to the bar to pick up a new customer.
I walked in, adjusting my dress so as much cleavage as possible was showing. There was a
new face sitting at the bar. A pirate, I could tell by his tanned skin. Very good looking. Tonight
was looking up, but only if this pirate wanted me. I walked over to him, sitting next to him,
leaning over to give him a great cleavage shot. "Hey there," I said softly, seductively almost.
He looked over at me, studying my face, never once looking down as my breasts.
Amazing. I sat up, but he never took his eyes off of me. "Beautiful," he said after a minute. His
voice was deep, rough, the kind of voice that sent chills through your body when the person
spoke. He gave me a strange look, then shook his head. "Don't tell me you're a prostitute."
"Well, actually," I started, but he cut me off.
"You shouldn't be. You're a beautiful woman. I'm sure you could do better than selling
your body, sleeping with any man who wants you," he said. Who was this man? He saw the
confusion on my face and smiled. "Come with me aboard my ship, for just two weeks, and then
we'll come back to Tortuga. I can show you a whole new life that you know nothing of."
"You're ship? Who are you?" I asked, staring right into his eyes. They were a dark blue,
like the ocean. I could see the waves in them, and something about this man just drew me to him.
"I'm Captain Stewart, lass. We set sail tonight on my ship, White Rose. She's a beauty,
you'll love her," he said. He took a swig of rum, then grabbed hold of my arm as he stood. "Come
on, I'll take you to her." I didn't have to think twice. I was off with him. What was I getting
myself into?
the bed, nude, staring at my feet. This was my life now, I was just another whore on the island of
Tortuga. The pay was pretty good though, so I guess it wasn't too bad. There was a mirror on the
other side of the room, and I was tempted to go look in it. So I stood up and walked across the
room, the wood floor cold against my bare feet. I'd changed to much in five years. Five years ago
I was 22; age makes a lot of difference. Then my hair was short, boy cut almost. My eyes had
been the brightest green anyone had ever seen. But time had taken it's toll on me. As I looked in
the mirror, my brunette hair fell just past my shoulders and wasn't well groomed. My eyes had
seemed to fade with the years and had lost their shine. I looked so different, I hardly even
recognized myself. If Sparrow were to ever come back, he wouldn't recognize me. That was
probably for the best though. He'd come back not long ago, and he didn't even come by to see
me.
The door to the hotel room entered, and the man who was paying for my services entered.
I sighed, wondering why I had gotten myself into this. Being a prostitute wasn't the most glorious
job out there, but being a woman I couldn't do much of anything else. This was the only way I
could get money. This or marry into a rich family, but that was never going to happen. I walked
back over to the bed, sitting down and grabbing a pillow. The man was still standing at the door,
his back to me, fumbling with the lock. Obviously he had too much to drink. Maybe that's what
took him so long.
He finally turned around, and his eyes went straight to my breasts. It wasn't that he was
unattractive, but... Well, okay, he was very unattractive. He had buck teeth sticking out of his
mouth, dirty and unkempt, and his hair was gray, not that he had much anyway. His eyes were a
dark, mucky kind of green color, and I think one was glass. I looked down and saw the bulge in
his pants. He stripped and left his clothes in a pile. And I thought he was unattractive with clothes
on. Ah, the glamourous life of a prostitute.
His arms grabbed hold of me and lifted me off the bed. He pressed his lips against mine
and his tongue entered my mouth. The smell of his breath was enough to gag me alone, but his
tongue going down my throat made it even worse. There was a peculiar taste in his mouth, but I
couldn't quite put my finger on it. He fondled my breasts with his rough hands. I noticed his
hands were wet, and I really hoped it was rum and not something else. He pushed me back and I
fell on the bed, him landing on top of me. Two hundred and fifty pounds of old man on top of my
was not pleasant. I was having troubles breathing, but I wasn't sure if it was because he was
smashing me or from his tongue down my throat. Too much tongue was definitely a bad thing.
There was a knock on the door, and within seconds he was off of my. Oxygen is a sweet
thing. "Whaddya want?" he yelled, his words slurred with too much rum.
"Sir, if you have a prostitute in there you need to get out! We don't take well to that kind
of behavior here," the voice on the other side said. It was a young woman, probably the one who
had greeted us when we came in.
"What's it to ya if I'm havin' sex in here! It's none 'o ya business what I do!" he shouted
angrily. By then though I already had my clothes back on, and I was ready to leave. Thank God I
didn't have to have sex with this old man.
"I'm leaving. Keep your money, I don't want to deal with this," I said, pushing him out of
the way and walking out the door. Obviously he was dumbstruck by what just happened. Most
guys would have been running out after me, forcing me back into the room, but he just stood
there blinking in the doorway. It was back to the bar to pick up a new customer.
I walked in, adjusting my dress so as much cleavage as possible was showing. There was a
new face sitting at the bar. A pirate, I could tell by his tanned skin. Very good looking. Tonight
was looking up, but only if this pirate wanted me. I walked over to him, sitting next to him,
leaning over to give him a great cleavage shot. "Hey there," I said softly, seductively almost.
He looked over at me, studying my face, never once looking down as my breasts.
Amazing. I sat up, but he never took his eyes off of me. "Beautiful," he said after a minute. His
voice was deep, rough, the kind of voice that sent chills through your body when the person
spoke. He gave me a strange look, then shook his head. "Don't tell me you're a prostitute."
"Well, actually," I started, but he cut me off.
"You shouldn't be. You're a beautiful woman. I'm sure you could do better than selling
your body, sleeping with any man who wants you," he said. Who was this man? He saw the
confusion on my face and smiled. "Come with me aboard my ship, for just two weeks, and then
we'll come back to Tortuga. I can show you a whole new life that you know nothing of."
"You're ship? Who are you?" I asked, staring right into his eyes. They were a dark blue,
like the ocean. I could see the waves in them, and something about this man just drew me to him.
"I'm Captain Stewart, lass. We set sail tonight on my ship, White Rose. She's a beauty,
you'll love her," he said. He took a swig of rum, then grabbed hold of my arm as he stood. "Come
on, I'll take you to her." I didn't have to think twice. I was off with him. What was I getting
myself into?
