Lint Upon Tweed

Captain Berryman LaFontaine

“Captain, you been leerin’ fer days in that scope and ain’t seen land yet.  Me thinks we’s lost.  Maybe the compass has gone mad?”

“Pundle,  if I wanted your opinion, I’d bitch-slap you for it!  Now shuffle off and bring my piss bucket.  I have to take a wee!”

“But captain,  we’re at sea!  Why not just piss o’er the side like the rest of the  men?”

The captain rolled his eyes, and fluttered his one inch eyelashes he had purchased in Paris.  “Pundle, if I piss over the side, a fish might jump up and knock my willy.  I’d be half cocked!  We couldn’t have a captain with just half a cock now could we?  Besides, who would shake me once finished?”

The captain never shook his own willy after a piss.   Usually it was Pundle who was tasked with the horrible deed.

They had been at sea for almost two months and supplies were running low.  Four days ago the captain suffered a nasty fall while walking on the upper deck  and had taken out their compass, unbeknownst to the men, knocking it to the ground.  Something was wrong with it.  But the captain, being more a lady in drag than a captain, had no idea how to fix it, nor fess up that he broke it.

It serves him right.  You just don’t wear high heels on a ship during a storm.  But he  left his lucky whip tied to a chock on the forecastle and was determined to retrieve it.  It had been a long day playing whip the bitch and he had forgotten all about it until that nasty storm rolled in.

In the process of retrieving it, he lost both heels, the whip  and destroyed the compass.  With no real sense of direction, the crew  was doomed if they didn’t find land soon, or at least another ship to plunder.  The captain was hoping for one with slave cargo.  He had heard wonderful stories about the men from Africa and their packages.

Captain Berryman LaFontaine was in his early thirties.  He was rather spoiled and mostly stupid, with a shallow mind and hedonist disposition.  He began life after school with a finger in his father’s wallet and cock in a rear pocket, any he could attach it to.  After years of embarrassing trips to the jailhouse to retrieve his son from yet another unfortunate encounter, Ferdinand LaFontaine decided that he would make one last ditch effort to impress some kind of manliness into his son.  Thus, the commission and his own ship.

It mattered not that Berryman had never been to sea, nor knew the first thing about sailing.  If Ferdinand were lucky, Berryman would go down with his ship and poor old father would never have to write another check again to save his pansy ass son. At the very least there would be mutiny and he would be thrown overboard, probably lost at sea where Great White’s would mistake his cherry red panties for some delicious bait and finish him off once and for all.

He was given a monthly stipend and sent on his way.  His father had seen to it that the ship was filled with the most vile type of character possible.  That meant paying off the local constable to conditionally release his worst prisoners in return for service on the ship.  Most of the prisoners were happy to do it.  It meant a steady meal and never setting foot in the jail again.  And maybe they could get in a little rape and pillage escapade to top it off.  They could care less that the captain was a little light on his feet.  They were getting fed and paid.

“Captain, your piss  bucket.”  Pundle had returned.

“Ah, yes.  Thank you Pundle.  Hold  still now.  We don’t want any to spill.  Say, I have an idea.  Since I  can’t see my willy and you can.  I’ll hold the piss bucket and <em>you </em>can  hold the willy!  Won’t that be splendid?” he said with a smile and a raise of the brow.

“Uh….just peachy, sire.  But please sire, the last time I held the willy you pissed all over me pants!”

“Oh Pundle.  I said I was sorry.  And I’m sure you enjoyed it.”

“Um captain?” asked Pundle.

“Yes?”

“You’re gettin’ chub, sire!”

“Well, look at that.  You know, it just has a mind of it’s own.  I swear, I just can’t take it anywhere these days.  He never listens to me.”

“Cap’n, you’re pissin’ on me coat again.  Shall I slap it against the bucket to get the last drop out?  I mean, we wouldn’t want it to leak onto your trou like last time now would we?  That had to be a bit of an embarrassment I say.  Did that stain ever come out?”

“That will be all Pundle.”  The captain buttoned his pants.

******

{Stay tuned for Chapter Two in the near future!}