The Cellar - View Single Post

Cyclefrance · 04-21-2006, 02:48 AM

The whole two ships fell momentarily silent – a pregnant pause in the proceedings (don’t look at me like that - I never went near her!). The two mighty galleons seemed to lurch as one, as the long and powerful tentacles of the great white fark tightened their grip about the ships' hulls. Yes, one might say everyone was totally farked!

The boards creaked even more than they used to, already splintering in places. Something had to be done, and fast, or both ships and all their crews would be taking the downward path to Davy Jones (and I don’t mean the one from the Monkees) locker.

‘That’s the trouble with the Spanish Main! exclaimed UT. ‘Full of pirates AND sea monsters. I’m just not equipped to deal with a fark this trip!’

‘Aaah, but I am…!!’

UT turned to see a rather stunning looking female clad in what seemed to be a one piece, skin-tight, curves-defining, ocean-blue coloured, well, if he had to give the garment any name at all, it would have be ‘suit’, though he couldn’t think why, as the suit hadn’t been invented yet.

Across the lady's rather ample and certainly appealing chest were strapped two belts, forming an ‘x’ between her really very ample cleavage (oh, I see, I’ve mentioned that already, but it was some cleavage, I can tell you, and certainly worth the second mention) and containing throwing knives of every variety. Around her waist another belt laced with water-proofed pre-prepared packets of powder and ball, ready to be loaded at speed into the two double barrelled pistols that hung from the belt about her hips, their holsters, secured to her very shapely thighs with leather thongs – yet still space for the two cutlasses that also hung at her sides. The whole ensemble completed with black thigh-length, tight-fitting pirate (well, what else?) boots.

‘Wh- who are you?’ UT asked nervously, his mouth feeling suddenly rather dry… (for indeed this comely female wore a mask across her eyes, concealing her identity, but permitting the bright green irises of her sparkling eys to shine through the slits made to accommodate them in this black bandana).

‘Why, handsome, that’s for me to know and for you to find out – but let’s say you can call me Galaxy Woman! Of course , only if you want to…’ the words seemed to ooze from the female’s pouting lips, her long black hair spilling over her shoulders.

And with that she leapt towards a handily dangling rope and swung herself out across the side of the Flossie Jetsam – letting go at that precise moment that was presented to permit her to dive headlong towards the writhing body of the monstrous fark – drawing knife and cutlass as she fell.

Hmm, thought UT – Galaxy Woman…? Now could that mean she comes from within our pirate band, or is she just using that name to throw me off the scent, and she is in fact from the Cellar’s crew?

No more time for thoughts such as these – the mystery of true identity would have to wait, as over the side mayhem ensued. As she landed on the monsters bulbous head she slashed and severed first one, then two and then a third of its might tentacles. But then a fourth tentacle grabbed her by the waist, squeezing the breath from her (getting exciting, isn’t it?). Her ample bosom heaved under the pressure, her breasts pounding against the tight fabric of her costume (sorry couldn’t resist mentioning it again - it is Friday after all, and the lads deserve a treat). Suddenly her hands broke free from its deadly grasp, and in a single bound (all the best adventure stories have at least one single bound) she was free. She pulled her pistols from her side and slammed four rounds of lead into the monsters brain. Its grip relaxed around both her and the ships, and it slid silently beneath the seas, taking our heroine with it. She gave a wave to UT, took an enormous gasp of air and was gone.

Would we see her again? Who was she? UT had but a spare moment to think as again the battle on board the two galleons proceeded.

‘Look out UT!’ It was Lookout123 living up to his name. UT side-stepped as a pirate swung past him and crashed to the deck

The gramophone, appropriately, was just sounding out the cannon sequence from the 1812 overture….

04-21-2006, 02:48 AM	#8
Cyclefrance Pump my ride! Join Date: Aug 2005 Location: Deep countryside of Surrey , England Posts: 1,890	The whole two ships fell momentarily silent – a pregnant pause in the proceedings (don’t look at me like that - I never went near her!). The two mighty galleons seemed to lurch as one, as the long and powerful tentacles of the great white fark tightened their grip about the ships' hulls. Yes, one might say everyone was totally farked! The boards creaked even more than they used to, already splintering in places. Something had to be done, and fast, or both ships and all their crews would be taking the downward path to Davy Jones (and I don’t mean the one from the Monkees) locker. ‘That’s the trouble with the Spanish Main! exclaimed UT. ‘Full of pirates AND sea monsters. I’m just not equipped to deal with a fark this trip!’ ‘Aaah, but I am…!!’ UT turned to see a rather stunning looking female clad in what seemed to be a one piece, skin-tight, curves-defining, ocean-blue coloured, well, if he had to give the garment any name at all, it would have be ‘suit’, though he couldn’t think why, as the suit hadn’t been invented yet. Across the lady's rather ample and certainly appealing chest were strapped two belts, forming an ‘x’ between her really very ample cleavage (oh, I see, I’ve mentioned that already, but it was some cleavage, I can tell you, and certainly worth the second mention) and containing throwing knives of every variety. Around her waist another belt laced with water-proofed pre-prepared packets of powder and ball, ready to be loaded at speed into the two double barrelled pistols that hung from the belt about her hips, their holsters, secured to her very shapely thighs with leather thongs – yet still space for the two cutlasses that also hung at her sides. The whole ensemble completed with black thigh-length, tight-fitting pirate (well, what else?) boots. ‘Wh- who are you?’ UT asked nervously, his mouth feeling suddenly rather dry… (for indeed this comely female wore a mask across her eyes, concealing her identity, but permitting the bright green irises of her sparkling eys to shine through the slits made to accommodate them in this black bandana). ‘Why, handsome, that’s for me to know and for you to find out – but let’s say you can call me Galaxy Woman! Of course , only if you want to…’ the words seemed to ooze from the female’s pouting lips, her long black hair spilling over her shoulders. And with that she leapt towards a handily dangling rope and swung herself out across the side of the Flossie Jetsam – letting go at that precise moment that was presented to permit her to dive headlong towards the writhing body of the monstrous fark – drawing knife and cutlass as she fell. Hmm, thought UT – Galaxy Woman…? Now could that mean she comes from within our pirate band, or is she just using that name to throw me off the scent, and she is in fact from the Cellar’s crew? No more time for thoughts such as these – the mystery of true identity would have to wait, as over the side mayhem ensued. As she landed on the monsters bulbous head she slashed and severed first one, then two and then a third of its might tentacles. But then a fourth tentacle grabbed her by the waist, squeezing the breath from her (getting exciting, isn’t it?). Her ample bosom heaved under the pressure, her breasts pounding against the tight fabric of her costume (sorry couldn’t resist mentioning it again - it is Friday after all, and the lads deserve a treat). Suddenly her hands broke free from its deadly grasp, and in a single bound (all the best adventure stories have at least one single bound) she was free. She pulled her pistols from her side and slammed four rounds of lead into the monsters brain. Its grip relaxed around both her and the ships, and it slid silently beneath the seas, taking our heroine with it. She gave a wave to UT, took an enormous gasp of air and was gone. Would we see her again? Who was she? UT had but a spare moment to think as again the battle on board the two galleons proceeded. ‘Look out UT!’ It was Lookout123 living up to his name. UT side-stepped as a pirate swung past him and crashed to the deck The gramophone, appropriately, was just sounding out the cannon sequence from the 1812 overture…. __________________ Always sufficient hills - never sufficient gears Last edited by Cyclefrance; 04-21-2006 at 05:04 AM.