I laugh, gazing at the golden ring on my finger. Cursed gold, bah! This ring is meant for me, a perfect match for my fiery hair and piercing golden eyes. No force in this world or the next would part me from such a prize.
"Ready to go, Cap'n!" My first mate calls. I smile at her enthusiasm. "Liana, ye 'ave the ship 'til I return on the 'morrow," I reply with a casual wave of my hand. I leap from the deck of my ship The Cracked Pearl onto the dock below, landing with practiced ease. Behind me, I hear my all-female crew swooning at my effortless grace—as they should. I am Captain Eriana Longear, feared captain of the Cracked Pearl, and I'll be having drinks at my favorite den of villainy, The Swaybacked Lady.
I stroll through the seedy streets of the port city, heading straight for The Swaybacked Lady. The greatest groghouse, loveliest brothel, and deepest den of scum and villainy across the twelve seas! The men inside are the lowest of the low, with desires dark enough to turn a pure maiden into a nun. Yet they respect and fear me, as any scoundrel with sense should.
I shove open the doors to the Swaybacked Lady, my frilly white blouse billowing behind me. My brace of pistols rattle across my chest, announcing I'm not to be trifled with. The setting sun catches my tight red breeches, hugging my curves and drawing eyes to my plush thighs and round behind. My heels click on the wooden floor as I strut to the bar, every rogue in the place ogling me and imagining what delights I might offer. Poor fools. I'm here for business, not pleasure.
The barman has gotten quite used to me sauntering around as if I owned the place. After all, the Swaybacked Lady has been my favorite den since his grandpappy ran the place! He practically grew up with me around, the spunky brat. He's naught more than a few decades, far too young to be giving the great me orders. I stop in front of the bar, barely a head above it in height, and looked upward. My gaze traveling up, and up, then up some more. My head is near his crotch, and his head somewhere up in the clouds above. Gods above, when did he get so tall?
"'hoy, Cap'n," the barman slurs, his accent thick. "Brought to port early by a full hold, I 'ope. Or 'ave ye turnt yellow-bellied?" I snort, offended by the barman's crude insinuation. My crew are the fiercest pirates to ever sail the twelve seas! We've plundered fat merchant ships and sent navy vessels fleeing with tails 'tween their legs. And if any scallywag dares call me yellow-bellied, I'll feed 'im to the sharks meself!
I slam my small fist onto the bar, making the bottles rattle and making the barman raise an eyebrow. "Watch yer tongue or I'll cut it out, whelp! Now pour me the finest grog ye've got and be quick about it!" My piercing golden eyes glare at the towering man, daring him to refuse. He rolls his eyes and moves to fill a mug with the foulest, most potent liquor in the house. As he slides it to me, I snatch it up and drain half the mug in one long swig.
The vile drink burns down my throat, but I don't flinch. I'm Eriana Longear, the most infamous pirate cap'n on the seas! I can handle any grog or scoundrel in this rat's nest! I finish the rest of my mug with another hearty gulp, then slam it down again.
"Another!" I demand. The night is still young, and this cap'n means to get properly drunk! The barman raises his hands plaintively, and mumbles something about calming down under his breath. Yet he pours me a drink all the same. I can already feel the alcohol rolling around in my system. My bravado is big, but my small body can only process liquor so fast. Yet I'm a pirate captain! I have to drink, then fuck, then drink again! I slam back that mug, and then smack my glass onto the counter loud enough to make the plates clatter.
"Another!" I slur, and the barman shakes his head.
"Cap'n, ye can scarce 'old down two mugs. 'Tain't gonna give ye a third, so dun go askin'," the barman says, in something suspiciously like an order. The Ring of Luxuria certainly takes it as an order coming from a man, and secretly imposes the restriction onto me. My eyes widen in shock—how DARE this impudent whelp refuse me and try to give me orders! I'm Captain Eriana Longear, scourge of the seven seas, and NOBODY tells me what I can and can't do!
I open my mouth to give him a tongue-lashing and maybe shoot him in the foot for good measure. But to my horror, the words die in my throat. I suddenly can't ask for another drink or threaten the barman at all! It's as if an invisible force has sealed my lips. I let out a frustrated grunt and pound my fist on the bar again, but the barman just shakes his head.
"Told ye, Cap'n. No more grog for ye tonight. Now if'n ye'll be wantin' somethin' else…" He trails off, distracting himself by eyeing my girlish figure. The nerve of this whelp, denying me and then leering at me like I'm some two-penny whore! And yet, my hand starts moving toward my blouse, as if to disrobe!