"Cap'n. Will ye be wanting Weasel to account the latest loot?"Her plain-faced cabin boy, Smith, asked as he showed in the nerdy-looking weasel-faced bespectacled accountant to her private quarters."Meh. Why not. Although at this point, counting each individual treasure in each individual chest is like counting the individual grains of sand in the Sahara..."She sighed as she stroked her parrot-dressed kitty cat, Polly, which slept on her shoulders."May the good cap'n please stand up then. It's hard to count if you're sat on the chest..."Weasel inferred as he stepped forth in front of Smith."Did you just issue an order to your captain?"Angie's eyes narrowed onto him."Um, no, Cap'n,"His tiny eyes suddenly widened in fear,"I only wish to do my job well to please you..." Sounded to me like you just ordered me to stand up? Do you know what I do to little scamps who dare to step out of line and issue me an order?"She put her feet down, and sat up strait atop the fancy chest."P-p-p-please. He was naked as well, his cock still brutally hard, jutting proudly upward, glistening with her juices. Elyse cried out, suddenly limp against her restraints, shrinking back in horror, now certain that it was truly Steven's eyes that were fixed on her. Simon turned toward Steven in a flash, his eyes red burning embers, piercing Steven with lances of anger that paralyzed him. Steven froze, overwhelmed by the impossible scene upon the darkened stage. Like some bizarre Faustian nightmare played out before him, Elyse and Simon looked down at him, her Persephone shamed by his presence, his Hades enraged by it. Until that moment, Steven had never pictured them together; his mind wouldn't allow it. In the past it had been off-limits, a place where he refused to let his imagination wander. The reality of it robbed him of every trace of confidence and resolve. Steven broke free of Simon's stare, turned away, and fled. The walls of the hallway, the grand stairway and balcony overhead, the very.
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