An offer.

‘Tavern’ turned out to be something of a misnomer. The place the woman led Shairi was clearly one of the many brothels that catered to arriving sailors. Women in little or no clothing wandered round serving drinks. Others served them in other ways, often openly with no regard for the other patrons. Even a quick glance showed Shairi three men receiving blowjobs and two fucking women on the tables.

At one end, there was a crude floorshow. A slender, petite young woman bent over and was fucked by a huge, muscular man. It was quite impressive, as his cock looked as thick as her arm.

The woman Shairi had rescued showed her to a seat at a table in a corner. She flagged down one of the wenches. “Reka, ale for me and my friend. And then why don’t ya give me some of that extra service, and get one of ya friends to do the same for may gal here.”

The whore grinned impishly, and went away, swinging her hips.

“Thanks again for the help,” the woman said to Shairi. “Those lads are a bunch of shrivel-pricked half-wits. They’ve got problems with a woman being a captain, or a sailor. Hells, or anything by a whore, really. Oh, but I ain’t introduced myself. I’m Aribell Yangost, captain of the good ship Sea Maid, and–” she lowered her voice conspiratorially “–dread pirate of the southern seas.”

Shairi was too stunned to reply. She’d loved reading about pirates, but had never expected to actually meet one.

The server returned, with one of her colleagues, each holding a mug of ale. They placed the drinks in front of their customers, smiled prettily at Shairi and Aribell, and then disappeared under the table. A moment later, Shairi felt eager hands undoing the laces on her pants. She gasped with surprise at pleasure as a tongue found her pussy.

“Good, aren’t they?” the captain said. “Glad to see you’re not one of those Church of Light prudes who objects to getting a good tongue lashing. Way I see it, having a tongue or cock in her kitty whenever she wants it should be every woman’s right and privilege.”

She took a sip of her drink. “So, anyway, you’re a caster, and a dab hand with ya knife. I was wondering if ya wanted a berth on my ship? I could definitely use ya.”

From the lusty look she gave Shairi, there was a double meaning in that.

Shairi wondered what to do. The prospect of adventure was appealing, as was the captain’s sexy body. But becoming a pirate wouldn’t get her any closer to her twin goals of power and breaking the curse on her pussy.