The sun had set a few hours ago and the sea was enveloped in darkness. Even the moon and stars above were blotted out by heavy clouds carrying rain towards the coast. For any navigator it would be a headache to make sure the small merchant vessel was on the right course but for young Anaea it was perfect. 

A strong throw from her small boat landed her grappling hook on the aft of the merchant ship where it secured a strong hold. She tied the other end of the rope to her boat, then removed her clothes and slipped into the warm water. Leaving behind her cloth top as well as most of her leather straps, belt and skirt, she was basically nude except for a single strap across her chest that held a selection of potions and her single, short dagger. Other than the limited protection that offered her, she was defenceless and would have to rely on wits, skill and luck to see her mission completed. 

Paddling as quietly she as she could, Anaea closed the distance between her boat and the merchant ship. She recognised the ship as a Trireme from one of the coastal cities but she couldn’t read the writing on the side. She had been taught the language of the sailors who frequented these seas but could only speak it; not read it. 
She knew little about these types of galleys but from her teachings back on the island she knew enough to find what she came for. She used her muscular arms and tight, toned legs to lift herself out of the water and climb up the side of the ship. She crawled over the railing and set her feet down on the deck of the ship. Still wet and dripped, she peered around the deck for any sign of the crew but was lucky to find herself completely alone. Her bronzed, tight skin glistened in the moon light for one moment as the clouds cleared. Beads of saltwater flowed down her abs and powerful biceps as the young warrior walked, barefoot, across the deck towards the door that would lead her down to the next deck. There the crew would be harder to avoid. A ship this size would have a crew of at least one hundred and fifty men, many of whom had not seen a woman in many weeks. Anaea was keenly aware of the dangers and the fate that could befall her if she were caught. She touched one of the potions on her belt for reassurance. All of them were knock-out drugs except for that one. The one she touched was a suicide drug that would stop her heart before any of the crew had a chance to enjoy her virgin body. If the worst was realised her options were to jump overboard and flee or take the potion and die. Success truly was a matter of life or death.

She knew her way around the ship. It was a common design in these seas and the layout had been mapped by many warriors performing this exact same mission in the past. This door would take her down to the next deck where the crew slept. On the far end of a long hallway she would find the captain’s private room. 

She opened the door and slipped into the dark interior of the ship. The stairway creaked loudly as she descended. Her bare feet muffled her footsteps slightly but the ship itself seemed to announce her presence to anyone who was listening. So far she had not heard any of the crew and assumed that most of them were asleep but it would only take one to discover her and ruin all her plans. 
The crew deck was dimly lit by several oil lamps on the walls that flickered as the ship creaked and turned with the waves. As silently as she could, Anaea moved through the deck until she found the sleeping crew. Along one long hallway at least fifty men were asleep in their bunks. Stacked on top of each other like cargo, they all slept peacefully amid the foul odour of sweat, farts and filth. It stung at Anaea’s nostrils and made her want to wretch but she had to cross the narrow walkway to get to the far end. Holding her breath, she crept passed the many sleeping sailors. Thoughts of what would happen to her if the sailors were to suddenly awake and find a young, curvy island woman completely nude right in their midst were enough to inspire Anaea to be as silent as possible. She stepped lightly and moved around obstacles as delicately as humanly possible until she had reached the far end of the hall of wretched sailors.

A moment later, Anaea came to the door to the captain’s room and silently went inside. In here the room was much fresher. A window to the outside allowed any stink to waft away instead of stewing inside the room. There was a bed against the far wall, covered in expensive silks and fabrics and big pillows. Luxurious decorations filled the room from the Persian rugs draped across the floor to the paintings of landscapes, ships and battles that hung from the walls. There was no sign of the captain however. 
Anaea dried her body and hair with a spare piece of fabric as she looked around the room. A decorative sword was mounted on the wall between two equally ornate spears. Anaea found it strange that someone would create a spear that could be used in a fight. The metal used for the spearheads was far too soft to pierce armour. It might hurt an unarmoured target but against anyone in an iron breastplate, it would bend against the superior metal. Anaea was drawn away from her thoughts by the sound of someone approaching. Someone was coming from the crew’s sleeping area and approaching the captain’s room.

Anaea quickly removed her belt of potions and dropped it behind the bed. She lay down on the bed and draped one of the sheets across her waist but left her full, firm breasts on display. She lay facing the door with her head resting in her hand and a subtle, seductive smile across her face. Though her heart was beating fast in her chest and her muscles were primed to jump into action any second, her face was the image of calm as the doorway opened.

A man, topless from the waist up except for a reed necklace, stood in the doorway and stared at the beautiful, bronze-skinned girl lying on his bed. Anaea did not show any sign of fear and simply gave him a small wave with her fingers to beckon him further inside. In her mind she was thinking of how quickly she could retrieve her dagger and kill the man before he had a chance to call the others but she hoped it would not come to that. 

The man looked confused. He regarded the topless beauty in his bed for a long moment before slowly stepping further into the room and closing the door behind him.

‘How did you get on my ship?’ he asked, still keeping his distance as he circled around to where the ornamental sword and spears were hung. 

‘Maybe I jumped out of the sea for you’ Anaea replied with a playful grin. She pushed out her impressive chest as she spoke and moved a strand of long, brown hair from her face to behind her ear.

‘That would make you a mermaid then’ the man continued. He reached his sword but did not pick it up. 

‘Maybe I am. Maybe I’m a gift’ Anaea said, trying to get a reading on what the man was thinking. One wrong move and her mission was scraped. She had to play this out perfectly.

‘A gift from who?’

‘The gods. They sent me here’.

‘To kill me?’ the man asked, taking the handle of his sword and lifting it off its mount slowly.

Anaea laughed and rolled onto her back, allowing just a peek at the tender flesh of her thighs under the sheets. She lifted her leg and pointed her toes to the ceiling so the man could behold the full length of her long, tanned leg. It was all a well-crafted act; a dance designed to lower men’s guard and flood their minds with lust.

‘I’m sure if they wanted you dead they could do it themselves. Do I look like such a bad omen?’ she asked, squeezing her breasts together for his benefit. 

The man licked his lips as he watched her fondle her chest. It was a very distracting act to say the least. Her eyes stayed locked on his as she rubbed her chest and teased her nipples on his bed. He laid his sword back down and moved closer to the bed, still weary and cautious like a lion approaching a fallen bull buffalo that wasn’t quite dead yet. 

Anaea lay on her back and ran her fingers through her hair, pushing her chest outwards. Her boobs jiggled slightly as she breathed. Firm enough to hold their shape and only move when it worked to entice others but still soft and squeezable. Anaea knew he was watching her. Everything except her hips was revealed and on display for the man. She was a feat for the eyes and doing everything she could to make herself as appetising as possible

‘Where are you from?’ he asked, moving closer to the bed, his eyes drinking in the view of her long, toned legs and full breasts.

‘The sea’ Anaea replied, rolling onto her stomach and pointing her feet to the ceiling again. 

‘And what is your name, beauty from the sea?’ his voice was heavy with desire now. Anaea had him exactly where she wanted him.

‘Anaea’ she answered. 

The sailor reached out to touch her skin. His hand landed on her rounded, strong backside. He stroked it slowly, as if still disbelieving she were real.

‘And what can I call you? Is “master” acceptable?’ she asked, smiling.

‘Hmm. That would be nice’ the sailor said. ‘The name is Batavia’.

‘Captain Batavia?’

‘Yes, but you can call me “master”. I like the sound of it’.

Anaea made a pleased sound as Batavia gave in to his desires and touched her more. His hands slid down her thigh. His strong and callused hands squeezed her powerful muscles and caressed her bronzed skin. His breathing was heavier now and his face looked flushed, but it was hard to tell under the week-old stubble and tanned skin. He moved Anaea’s leg, gently rolling her onto her back so he could caress her chest. He took both breasts in his hands and squeezed them firmly. Anaea smiled at the sensation that ran through her at his touch. His fingers brushed across her hardening nipples and she let out the first sigh of lust. 

Encouraged by her noises, Batavia took her left nipple into his mouth and played his tongue across it. His teeth held the small bud in place as his tongue flicked back and forth across it. He tugged on it gently until it came free of his soft grip. 

Anaea let her own hands wander and glide across the rippled flesh of the merchant captain. Nimble fingers found their way under his tunic and quickly had the garment removed. Only a wrap of cloth now stood between her and Batavia’s bulging phallus. Batavia was busy too. He pulled away the sheet that had been covering Anaea and let it fall to the floor. Now fully exposed, Anaea opened her legs for the Captain. His hand moved between her strong thighs and rubbed her moistening, burning slit. She gasped at his touched against her bald womanhood. His fingers slipped up and down through the valley but never dared cross the boundry and enter her. It was delicious torture to be so close and unable to move forward. She reached into his cloth wrap and took hold his manhood. It was warm to the touch and hot against her smooth palm. Large too. Surprisingly large.

She pulled it free and stopped for a moment to examine it. Semi-erect and covered in criss-crossing veins, it lay in her hand like a fat, short snake. A pinkish-purple head emerged from the tip. It looked so strange to her. She had seen them before but never this close and never had she held one in her hand. It was so strange and yet so incredibly exciting. She felt her sex grow hotter at the sight of the weird thing that would soon penetrate her. 

Her façade of confidence must have slipped for a moment and betrayed her worry.

‘Your first?’ Batavia asked, a grin growing on his face.

She quickly regained her composure and returned a sly, horny grin of her own. ‘What god would send his servant a used gift?’
The man laughed and kissed her. His bristles scratched against her face as their lips and tongues intertwined. Though his beard was like sandpaper against her soft skin, Anaea felt an incredible rush as she kissed Batavia. His ripped body was on top of her, pressing against her as his tongue invaded her mouth. She could taste the alcohol in his mouth and feel the raw sexual desire that coursed through his body and into hers. 

She broke the kiss and pushed him away. She jumped him, forcing his shoulders down and sitting on his waist. She kissed his pectorals and abs hungrily. Lust overcame her but she kept herself in control. She knew what her mission was and would let her own desires come before that. Fortunately for her, part of the plan involved exhausting her mark and she would have a lot of fun doing that. 
She ground her hips against his, rubbing her hungry pussy against the hardened shaft of his erect cock. After only a moment, his shaft was coated in her liquid desire. Her nipples were hard, pink and desperate for attention. Anaea squeezed and played with them herself as the sailor took hold of her hips and roughly thrust against them. His shaft rubbing against the delicate nub of her clit was enough to make Anaea cry out with both pleasure and frustration. She wanted more. She needed more. She needed him inside her.  

She sat up, pushing her chest once more as Batavia squeezed and held them. She reached down and guided the top of Batavia towards her wet, hot opening. He slipped inside her easily and with minimal pain, but all the lubrication in the world could only help so much when a man of his girth entered a virgin’s tight womanhood. Anaea knew it would hurt and could possibly be blood. The other woman of the village had told her as much but had also impressed upon her the pleasure that would be felt if she outlasted the pain. Anaea readied herself. She would not be defeated at such an important moment by something as lowly as a man. 

She lowered herself onto him, pushing his shaft deeper into herself inch by painful inch. Her insides stretched to accommodate the new arrival with a mixture of burning pain and oddly pleasing tingles. 

She felt something inside herself rip and Batavia’s cock moved inside another inch. She cried out with a small yelp as pain erupted in her crotch. Her muscles tensed around the shaft as her body adapted. The pain was intense for only a moment but it soon faded to a dull ache. Doing her best to ignore the pain, Anaea began to grind against Batavia’s groin. As her body grew used to the thick shaft inside it, the pleasure began to overtake the pain. After a few minutes of gentle grinding, Anaea started to ride him.

She lifted herself up the shaft before dropping back down on it. The pleasure that shot through her body each time she landed a thrust forced a moan of joy to escape her lips. Sweat was forming on her brow as she rode Batavia like someone far more experienced than her. Blood mixed with her cum in the space between her and Batavia but neither of them noticed. Anaea was too concerned with the new pleasures running through her and Batavia’s eyes were firmly fixed on the girl riding him.

Her tits bounced up and down with each thrust. Her head was tilted back, broadcasting each of her blissful moans. Sweat was seeping out of her tanned skin, making her bronzed tan glisten in the warm light of the oil lamp. Anaea wanted to keep quiet but her body was burning from the inside and to hold in anything would surely drive her mad. 

Batavia took control a moment later. He sat up and pushed Anaea onto her back. He kept his cock deeply inside her as he shifted position. Anaea wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper in as he began to thrust. He was much stronger and eager than Anaea had been. Her body shook with the force of his thrusts. It hurt her but at the same time Anaea could not stop moaning. Her vagina was on fire but her insides were ablaze with passion. Warm bliss sat in the pit of her stomach, sometimes running up her spine but always topping short of her neck. She writhed and flexed under Batavia, trying to force the pleasurable vibrations always up her spine. She wanted to see what happened.

Batavia held her down by her shoulders as he slipped in and out of her. Her breasts wobbled back and forth in time with Batavia’s deep, hard plunges into her. Her face was flushed red and her breathing was deep and heavy. Pained noises of bliss and agony slipped from her lips every second between gasps for air. Her sweaty body writhed and contorted under Batavia. His ripped, sweaty muscles were tight with the effort of fucking the bronzed beauty beneath him. 

When Anaea tired of being held down, she pushed away Batavia long enough to swap positions. She stood on her knees and leaned forward, moving her knees apart, she invited the man to retake her. Wasting no time, he re-entered her and again began the strong, powerful thrusts into her. Taking her hands and holding them behind her back, the man pulled her into each thrust. Her boobs wobbled back and forth obscenely. Her butt rippled with each powerful slap of Batavia’s waist. Her hair fell about her face and stuck to her sweaty brow as she moaned and panted into the sheets. Fluids ran down her inner thighs and were absorbed by the sheets, now forming a dark patch under her. 

Batavia was grunting loudly now. His breathing was ragged and uneven but his thrusts were faster than before. Anaea felt the first rising vibes of an orgasm running along her spine. It came higher and higher before spreading across her shoulders and finally, like water tipping over the edge of a jug, she came. 

Her muscles tensed and relaxed a thousand times in a minute. Her spine bent backwards and a long, strained moan erupted from between her lips. Batavia let go of her arms and let her fall face-down into the bed. She twitched and writhed on the bed as her orgasm ran rampant throughout her body. After a moment of brain-flooding bliss, her orgasm faded and Anaea reclaimed some measure of control over herself. She rolled onto her back and curled in her legs. She lay there a moment, enjoying the low calm that followed an adrenaline high. Before she could recover fully, Batavia had her on her back again and was striking while the iron was hot.

Anaea wrapped her legs around him again, squeezing his strong waist with her powerful thighs. The tingling that filled her stomach returned as did the mild pain in her crotch. Anaea lay peacefully on her back, happily taking Batavia’s hard dick inside her as he worked his way to his own satisfaction. She admired the glistening sweat on his chest and the way it made his every muscle seemed larger and more defined. His abs tensed with each thrust; a feast for the eyes as well as a shock of sensation in her nether region. 
A moment of strong, fast thrusts and Batavia pulled out, lay the tip of cum-coated cock on Anaea’s stomach and unleashed several long streaks of thick cum. From the base of her stomach to between her breasts in long, unbroken lines, was the end result of the last twenty minutes. Her cum mixed with his mixed with the blood of defloration. 

Batavia fell onto his back and breathed heavily while Anaea rubbed the sticky, slimy gunk into her skin. She licked her fingers and laughed as she watched the man stare at her with unfocused eyes and a dumb grin. 

‘You enjoyed, Master Batavia?’ she asked, sitting up on her knees. She tilted her head as she asked the question.

‘I enjoyed and in five minutes I’ll be enjoying you again’ he laughed. 

He stood up from the bed and crossed the room to retrieve something from a cabinet. While he was distracted, Anaea seized the moment and found her dagger. Her mind was cleared of all thoughts of lust and pleasure as she snapped back into the correct mindset. Her eyes were fixed on Batavia as her hands opened one of the potions and poured it across the blade of her dagger.

‘So tell me now, honestly, where are you from?’ Batavia asked, still busy with the cabinet.  

Anaea stood up and hid the dagger behind her back as she coyly approached her target. She smiled as she walked slowly closer to Batavia.

‘You don’t believe I’m from the sea?’ she asked.

Batavia laughed. ‘I’m not one of those superstitious sailors. I’ve seen it all on these seas. You as well tell me you’re a Jorosian’.

Anaea froze. She was standing within arm’s reach of Batavia but could not make her final move until she had heard more.
‘Jorosian? What have you heard?’ she asked, her smile fading.

‘Some made-up tribe of women said to live on a magical hidden island. Stories abound of them kidnapping men off of their ships and taking back to the island. It’s the sort of thing sailors who haven’t seen a woman in months invent to use as masturbation fodder. Strangely, all the stories end with the men being sacrificed.  Jorosians are cannibals, or something’ he explained. 

Anaea smiled at his naïve little story. She found it rather amusing how far sailor’s stories stray from the truth. 

She raised her dagger and hovered the tip over his right shoulder. In one quick motion she sliced a shallow cut across his skin just deep enough for the potion to enter his blood. 

‘We’re not cannibals’ she said with a wicked grin. 

He spun around and stared at Anaea in confusion for a moment. He touched his shoulder and saw the blood on his hand before he collapsed to the floor. He grabbed Anaea by the ankle, spitting a curse before falling unconscious. She prodded the sleeping sailor with her foot to make sure he was out, then walked over to the window. Forcing it open, she poked her head out and looked around. Her boat was trailing behind the merchant ship and only a short swim away. 

Anaea hauled her man over to the window like a wet sack of potatoes and unceremoniously dumped him out of it. His body hit the water with a loud splash and Anaea followed him out. She dove elegantly into the water and quickly pulled Batavia to the surface. A few strong kicks of her powerful legs and she had him next to the boat. She climbed into her small boat, pulled him aboard like a net full of fish and undid the knot securing the two vessels. 

Anaea sat in her boat, next to the snoozing body of her captive and watched as the lights of the merchant ship faded into the distance. She figured she had about five hours before she had to reapply the potion. That would be enough time to find her way back towards Joros. Back home. 

She looked towards the horizon and smiled. Despite the burning pain in her nethers that would surely last a few days, she was happy. She had completed her mission, become a woman and would be welcomed back as a full member of her tribe. 
It had been a good night.