Defeat the pirates!

There's a long, luscious moment of silent shame, and then the cabin boy's voice calls out from the rear of the crowd "Hey, that dashing gentleman was right! Pirates don't wear any panties!"

"No! Wait! Usually I do, it's just... I mean, it feels so free! Pirates don't care about... about... stop looking at me! Why are you laughing?" Black Anna sinks into a knock-kneed crouch, her hands flying to cover her pussy, though too late to stop everyone aboard the ship from getting a look. The whole crew of the merchantman is laughing, and some of the passengers are casting curious glances at the other lady pirates.

A redheaded tomboy raises her cutlass, seeking to intimidate the crowd, and finds she doesn't have one. In her place is nothing but a long, floppy leek from the ship's kitchens, which droops in her hand as she waves it in the air. All around her, other pirates are reaching for their weapons and finding only carrots, cucumbers and rolling pins in their scabbards and holsters.

They eye the crowd nervously. The prisoners don't have any weapons, either, but there are more of them.

"Why don't we see if any of them are wearing panties?" the cabin boy, who is over eighteen, innocently suggests. "After all, it might just be Black Anna."

The redheaded tomboy gulps.

She turns to run, but two blonde noblewomen are on her in an instant, squealing with laughter and pinning her to the ground. All around her, the other pirates are getting the same treatment as the passengers and crew of the merchantman rise up against them. The cabin boy, a tall stocky lad who again is definitely over eighteen, by a surprisingly long way for a cabin boy, has pinned down a dusky-skinned woman from the southern deserts and is gleefully stripping off her breeches, leaving her in nothing but her pirate blouse and hat.

"Looks like it's all of them," he shouts, as the dusky-skinned woman kicks her legs, her ebony bottom flashing and her pussy peeping from between her thighs as she wiggles furiously on the deck with his hand on the small of her back. "But let's check to be sure!"

The tomboy squeals as she's de-breeched and her pants held out of her reach by the giggling blondes, snatched away from her fingers to tease her, then tossed unceremoniously over the side of the ship. The other sexy lady pirates squeal in horror as they're all given the same treatment, one by one, pinned down and bared by a mob of laughing landlubbers. There's nowhere to hide.

The last pirate lass, an almond-eyed maiden from the Orient, is cornered behind the poop deck (or whatever deck it is, you're not an expert) and summarily relieved of her trousers by the mild-mannered captain of the merchantman, who seems to have recovered some of his confidence. Her pert little peachy bottom quivers as she's **** to join her comrades below the mainmast, lined up in a row before the chuckling crew with their hands on their head in postures of surrender. They squirm uncomfortably, not sure how it happened, but painfully aware of their all-too-sudden defeat.

Not one of them is wearing any panties.

As for Black Anna, she hasn't moved from her spot, nor pulled her breeches up. That's because she can feel the point of her own cutlass in the small of her back, where you're holding it.