"Sir...what was that? I think there could be something out there," Calamy muttered, raising the glass to his right eye.

"Where away?" Lt. Pullings took the piece and scanned the dense grey brume as it swirled all around. He could see nothing but he knew enough to trust the instincts of his officers, especially a promising young mid like Peter Calamy.

"It wasn't so much what I saw, sir, it was more what I heard..."

"Heard? What the devil do you mean? It's like the grave out there, boy. The fog deadens all sound...." And then he heard it. A distant sound.

"There....I hear it again, sir...listen....!" The boy's voice rose with excitement, still in that stage when a boy shifts from deep to high notes in mid-sentence. The squeak made Calamy blush.

"I hear it," Pullings admitted. "By God...what is it...? It reminds me of....! It cannot be, surely...? It has the sound of...."

"That be a woman singing, sir...a bad omen, if I may say so..." Pullings shot a look down to the man who addressed him from the deck below where he stood. It was old Joe Plaice, tugging on his forelock to excuse his interruption. His advanced age gave him a slight leeway with the younger officers who allowed him a measure of approach that would have been considered unacceptable in the other common seamen; but even he would not have presumed so much with the Captain himself.

"Get back to your task, Plaice. If I want your opinion, I'll ask for it, man!" The young lieutenant retorted before turning back to the sea and hearing again the muted but unmistakable lilt of a beautiful voice, a woman's voice, singing a song that was both hypnotic and eerie as it seeped across the dank air.

"Sir....sir...? Could it be a siren? I read of them at school, sir. In Greats, sir. Odysseus was the only man who heard the Siren's song and lived...Is it possible that such sea creatures exist...?" Calamy and Pullings exchanged a look of horror and uncertainty. They might have been men of science who dealt in the practicalities and rude reality of life aboard a British man O' war, but even young Calamy had been long enough at the mast to know that there were many things at sea that were unexplained by philosophy and rational thought.

"I think we need to consult the Captain. Run along to his cabin and ask him if he would oblige me on the quarter deck." He hated to admit he was out of his depth but a true officer knew when to ask for help and when to stand alone. Jack Aubrey would expect no less of him.

Calamy set off at a brisk trot - not quite a run, which would have been unacceptable for an officer of his rank before the men - but a speedy stride and made his way below to the Great Cabin, knocking on it very hesitantly. This was like the holy of holies to any man on board - the inner sanctum.

"What is it?" He heard the deep tones of Jack Aubrey calling out tetchily. The Captain was taking his breakfast after a very early start to the day - he had been on deck since four bells and the change of the watch, uneasy himself at the progression of the fog in this dangerous channel. But the Captain's breakfast was sacrosanct and only to be disturbed in dire emergency - he did not enjoy this interruption.

Calamy swallowed hard and stepped into the imposing cabin. Before him sat the Captain, dressed informally in his breeches and shirt loose, his hair unbound, his feet clad only in his stockings, in the midst of demolishing a platter of bacon, eggs and sausages. His good friend Dr. Stephen Maturin was sharing his repast. Both men turned at the unwanted intrusion and fixed the boy in their gaze.

"Yes, Calamy?" The captain's face was stern and implacable. Calamy felt his legs turn to water.

"Sir...there is a strange noise on the sea. We don't know what it is, sir. It sounds like a woman singing...It might be a siren, sir, such as Odysseus heard when he was bound at the mast..."

"What? Have you been in the rum ration, by God?" Jack spluttered.

"No, sir. It is most disturbing, sir. Mr. Pullings requests your presence on the quarterdeck..."

That changed everything. There was no way Tom Pullings would have called for the Captain unless he was genuinely worried. He nodded and called out sharply for Killick who was already behind him as he rose from the table, holding out the uniform coat and helping the captain don his boots. Then, resplendent in the trappings of authority that changed him from just a man to a near-godlike figure on this ship, Captain Jack Aubrey strode briskly out of his cabin to run up to the deck above.

"Surely, Jack, you cannot give this fanciful notion of the boy's any credence. Sirens? Lord...don't you know that all those legends are simply sailors' superstition and are probably just the song of a whale or the crying of manatees..."

"Tom Pullings has heard both, I'll warrant," Jack replied curtly as he took the stairs at a pace.

"But, Jack! Surely you cannot...!" Jack turned back and Stephen saw his friend's face with its stubborn set. For all his courage, skill and sharpness, Jack Aubrey was a simple man and he shared the sentimental nature common to all sailors. The doctor shook his head and followed in his formidable wake.

"So...what is this about? Give me the glass...!" Jack took the glass and fitted it to his eye, studying the dense fog for any sign of life. "I see noth..." But his words were cut off as the voice sounded again, this time clearer and more ethereal than ever. He stopped dead and stared, his astonishment evident on his face. Every man aboard watched him from where they stood or hung suspended in the rigging. There was silence as eerie as the song itself, broken only by the crash of the waves and the creaking of the ropes.

"Good God!" he muttered and glanced over to Stephen whose face registered the same disbelief. "The Fairy Queen, by Jove! Henry Purcell...is that not so, my friend? Titania's song?"

But all the good doctor could do was nod his head...

At the Captain's bellowed command, the slow moving ship was brought to a virtual stop in the calm, fog-shrouded waters. Pullings had been advancing the Surprise at an appropriate pace to proceed safely around the charted reefs and shoals ... but with the possibility that uncharted dangers may be lurking nearby, the men aboard nodded sagely at the wisdom of the Captain's quick orders.

Double time quick ... as always ... feet raced across the wooden planks of the deck as the men jumped to their stations and their duties. Three quick splashes followed each other as the long boats were lowered into the sea. Bellowed orders of the mids sent squads of able seamen chasing down the netting and taking their positions in the smaller boats, their hands on their oars, their bodies at attention ... for no one in the crew ever dared give the Captain reason to make note of sloppy seamanship.

On the quarterdeck, Jack and Pullings listened intently. Their ears were attuned to the many sounds of the old ship and the crew left aboard ... but they also heard the tell-tale sounds of the men rowing away from the ship in prescribed orderly patterns to search for the sound they'd heard of a woman singing.

The woman's voice, meanwhile, had changed from singing that lilting, haunting melody ... to a plaintiff cry that sounded, to Jack's ears anyway, very much like, "Is anyone out there? Help me, please!"

To Stephen, though, the 'woman's voice' could have been any number of sea creatures mimicking sounds he felt the Captain wished to hear. He worried silently about what it might mean to the Captain's inestimable reputation among the crew when the 'woman in distress' turned out to be a manatee or whale.

His dour expression, however, turned to one of deep amazement when none other than Barrett Bonden, the Captain's coxswain, called out through the fog ... they could hear him clearly as he said, "There away! A boat ..."

And from that first call until Bonden's long boat snugged up next to the Surprise again, the crew waited with barely contained excitement to learn what it was that their fellow sailors had pulled in as catch from the sea.

Stephen was leaning so far over the rail that Calamy grew alarmed the esteemed physician would fall into the sea ... again. "Doctor, take care," he whispered as he stood at Stephen's elbow, gratified to see the doctor suddenly realize the danger of his actions and stand upright in a safer position.

And this is why Calamy was able to report to the other mids later that night what the great Captain Aubrey's first words upon seeing what it was that Bonden brought aboard with him.

"God's teeth, Stephen! If this is not a bad omen, then nothing in life ever was ..." Jack muttered to his particular friend. Then aloud to Pullings, "Gain control of the crew, sir. I will not have them standing around like gaping jackals as a lady ascends into the Surprise clad only in her ... Killick! Killick, there! Blankets ..."

Killick rushed forward with towels he'd had at the ready. But as the decidedly female form was assisted over the side railing, his eyes opened nearly as wide as his mouth and he stopped. For though the crew had believed the noise might have been made by a woman, they had, of course, expected a mermaid, then had to adjust to the notion it must have been a human if Bonden was bringing her aboard ... but this ...

She was like an apparition as she stood there shivering upon the deck.

Stephen jumped back to awareness as he remembered his medical duties. Brusquely, he grabbed the towels from Killick, draped them over the poor bedraggled damsel and then barked an order to Pullings to help him escort the poor woman below to the Captain's cabin where he could ascertain the state of her health and begin healing any injuries.

"To my cabin?" Jack thought to himself suddenly. "This will never do ..."

"Well, madam, perhaps we could start with the details? Your name? An explanation for your curious fate?"

The woman had been given time to dress in warm clothes, a strange mixture of duck pants and a night shirt from one of the mids, with a rough wool jacket over her. Her golden hair was loose, in waves around her pretty oval face, her feet were tiny, white and bare. Somehow the sight of her in men's garb but so fragile and feminine had a peculiar affect on his ardour. It intensified it. He suddenly realized that he had been staring quite pruriently at her and the subsequent reaction on his body was in danger of becoming evident.

He sat down sharply at his desk. "Have you a tongue in your head, madam?" He asked brusquely trying to hide his embarrassment in a business-like manner.

The woman blushed and looked down. "I have indeed, sir. But I am still a little shocked and bewildered by what befell me. I was a passenger on a merchant vessel The Brightstar out of Liverpool, off to America. It foundered in the fog. I think we hit something. There was a shearing noise and then we went down very quickly. I was pushed into a boat but before anyone else could join me, the rope broke and I was plunged into the sea. I realised that if I did not row away that I might be pulled down as the ship sank so I rowed and rowed until I was quite exhausted. I expected others to join me but there was no one. I thought they would jump off and swim to the boat..."

"The water is icy cold. One is dead in moments. It is impossible to swim when the cold freezes your bones. I'm afraid they died, but quickly, God rest their souls. They did not linger or suffer much...."

At that the woman began to cry; Jack was immediately uncomfortable. "Dear lady...please...try not to fret. Did you lose anyone close to you?"

She shook her head, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "I was traveling alone. I am a singer and I was off to the New World to join a company in New York. My name is Flora Bailey. Miss Flora Bailey. From Staffordshire, sir. I thank you for your kindness in rescuing me from the sea. I thought I would soon die of exposure. I kept myself from loneliness by singing...."

"...You have a fine voice, ma'am. Perhaps one day when you are feeling brighter, you would entertain us to a song after dinner? Until then, please feel free to use my sleeping quarters. I have instructed my steward to move my essentials into the outer cabin. If you should need the....ahem....room of ease...there is one available here. I shall make sure I am mostly on deck so as not to compromise your privacy. We should reach America in about four days. I will do my best to make your stay as comfortable as possible."

He nodded curtly, indicating she should withdraw and that the interview was over. Miss Bailey made a little curtsey and turned before looking back. "One thing...may I wash my clothes? I would prefer to wear women's clothing if I may. These rough trousers are very... chafing to my tender flesh..." She gave the captain a demure look but her fluttering eyelashes made him wonder if she were entirely innocent of the effect she was having on him. He cleared his throat and tried to dispel the image of the tender white flesh beneath the duck pants.

"See my steward Killick. He will be able to assist you in such matters. Good day to you, ma'am."

"Good day to you, Captain Aubrey," she whispered softly before returning to her designated chamber and the cot wherein the captain himself normally slept.

Flora took a look around the Captain's cabin.  It was manly and stark; much like her first impression of Captain Aubrey.  He seemed a man a bit uneasy with a woman from the few minutes of contact she'd had with him.  But, above all he was a man.  She saw the way he'd looked at her.  She wasn't blind.

And she wasn't immune to him as a man.  He was very dashing in his uniform.  He was so commanding.  She smiled.  He towered over her and was blond and handsome and...............well, he was all man.  She smiled again.  And if there was one thing Flora knew about, it was men. 

She had to struggle all the time to try and further her career as a singer.  She dealt with men all the time.  They were all around in her chosen occupation.  They ran the business.  They paid for the tickets to listen to her sing.  She could get nowhere without them.  She'd learned from a very young age to use her pretty face and figure to get in a door where her talent alone wouldn't gain admittance.

Yes, she would enjoy getting to know the formidable Captain of this magnificent sailing vessel.  And she was the only woman on board, it appeared.  That definitely worked to her advantage.  She yawned and lay back on the cot and pulled a blanket over her to sleep.  She inhaled the male scent of the blanket.  She smiled as she fell asleep and imagined the Captain sprawled out on this cot.

Jack was pacing around.  Stephen stood still watching him over his glasses.  "This is not good, Stephen," and he paced some more.

"Yes, Jack, you've already said that.  Why don't you sit down and have a cup of coffee before you wear a hole in the planks?"  He smiled and held out a small cup as he sat down at the table.

Jack paced a few more steps until he took the cup of coffee and sat down opposite Stephen.  He began to noisily stir in sugar.  Stephen hid his smile.  Jack appeared more flustered or nervous about this woman on board than if he was facing the whole French fleet!  He cleared his throat.  "Jack, I've met her and I'm not sure why you have so much concern regarding Miss Bailey.  I found nothing odd or disruptive about her in our first meeting."

Jack scowled at him.  "Miss Bailey indeed, Stephen.  That in it self will be disruptive on His Majesty's ship."  He waved his hand around.  "You saw what she looks like?  You heard her sing?  Indeed, her every move on this ship will be disruptive.  Women do not belong on a ship of war!"

"Yes, my dear, but there is no other choice!  You can't set her back adrift in the sea?"  Stephen saw a gleam in Jack's eye that told him that's precisely what he wished he could do.  "I'm sure that she will cause no problem with the men.  They are quite disciplined under your command.  I am certain things will be fine, Jack."

Jack got a look in his eyes that Stephen knew meant he wouldn't like what Jack would say next.  "Good, it is set, Stephen.  If you're so sure that she will cause no disruptions on the ship, then I am putting you in charge of making sure she does not."  He smiled at his decision.

"But, Jack, my work...," Stephen began.

"The men are quite healthy right now, is that not true?"  Stephen nodded and Jack continued.  "And we are currently not engaged in battle where there are casualties?"  Stephen nodded.

"But," Stephen began again.

"But, nothing, then it is all set.  Miss Bailey will be your responsibility to keep in line."  Jack drank down his coffee and stood smiling.  "I'm glad that is taken care of, Stephen.  I must get back to my duty on deck.  I will see you later."  Jack nodded and turned and strode out of the Doctor's cabin.

Stephen sat there bemused at how he'd been given this duty.  Well, Miss Bailey seemed a very charming young woman.  He was sure there would be no problems.  He went back to drinking his coffee and reading a fascinating medical journal that he'd picked up in their last time in port.

Flora woke refreshed from her sleep a few hours later and set to getting her first priority accomplished.  She needed her clothes cleaned.  She found the odd Mr. Killick next door in the Captain's quarters and after some grumbling, he got the job done admirably.  There was no problem until he insisted that her clothes be hung below to dry and she insisted they be hung on deck. 

She finally persuaded Mr. Killick with her logic that her dress would take days to dry below and then would smell musty from the dampness.  Actually her logic, compliments and slight flirting convinced the man. She smiled as she saw her clothes hanging to dry on deck.  She complimented Mr. Killick one more time and thought she saw a slight smile.  Then she made her way to Dr. Maturin's cabin to engage that charming man in some conversation.

Jack came back up on deck after being below on gun inspection.  One can never be too ready for battle he mused to himself as he came on deck.  What he saw stopped him dead in mid stride.  Mr. Calamy who had the deck at the moment and most of the men were peering at the sight of a lady's dress, undergarments and petticoats drying on a strung up line.  He opened his mouth and for a moment nothing came out.  Then he bellowed, "Mr. Calamy!  As you were!"  Calamy blushed profusely and ordered the men back to their stations, which wasn't really necessary as they'd all run to do so at the Captain's roar.

Jack turned and began to go below deck toward Stephen's cabin yelling, "Doctor Maturin," at the top of his forceful voice. 

A rage sparked by a great many things had Jack's generous frame tight with fury.  The memory of Flora's sweet voice speaking of her tender chafing skin combined with the sight of her lacy unmentionables fluttering in the sun on the deck of his revered command put a steely edge into his next words.  They were so sharp as he barked them out that even the fearless young Calamy felt his knees tremble.

Below decks, Killick's shoulders hunched and he winced at the authoritative voice that cut so sharply through wind and wave and wood.  For once, he wasn't at the ready waiting the Captain's elbow, for he knew his moods all too well and hadn't wanted to be to hand when the Captain clapped eyes on the string of frippery flying in plain view for all of sundry to see. 

And why wouldn't he?  The lower born among them had most certainly never see the like.  Unmentionables stitched from fabric so fine it was almost sheer.  The higher born, who were most certainly well acquainted with such articles of a woman's dress - or undress - smiled to themselves as the sight stirred their memories.  And their cocks.  Even the young lads couldn't keep away; daring each other to run up and touch the finery as it snapped and fluttered. 

The Captain's virile lusty blood needed no such enticements.  Just the scent of the girl in his cabin and the knowledge she'd pass her nights in his cot was more than enough drive his mind from thoughts of king and country to thoughts of cock and cunt.  Even Killick wasn't immune.  It had been his hands that attended the washing of her garments.  And his face that had inhaled her ripe fragrance before washing it from the fine cloth.    

The men would be in a fine state tonight, he knew.  Once their ration of grog fired their bellies and dulled their wits, a cacophony of sounds would be heard below decks, the discordant rhythm of creaking hammocks...coughing and sputtering as they tried to hide their low grunts of pleasure.  Worse than that would be the scent.  Lust.  Rising from them, thicker and thicker, as each man pictured himself as the one called upon to attend the siren. 

Ships had been lost for less.  It was little wonder why the Captain's bellow struck fear in the hearts of every last man.  His rage was well founded.   

On his way up top, Killick ran into the lovely sleep-flushed Miss Flora, who had no doubt been roused from her rest by the Captain's sharp voice.  Could make the dead sit up at attention, it could, Killick mused unhappily.  "Beggin' your pardon, ma'am...."  His weathered visage turned upwards towards the sound of the thundering voice.  The gesture pushed his bushy eyebrows up higher on his wrinkled forehead and made Flora smile inwardly.  "You might want to stay below until this one blows over...."  He gave a respectful nod and moved past her with resignation dogging his every step.

The picture that met him on deck was a sight indeed.  The Captain's face red with anger.  The good doctor looking on, his bland expression a mixture of curious concern and mild disinterest.  No doubt he wanted to return to his dusty books and couldn't understand why a pair of bloomers dancing gaily in the breeze would fire the Captain so.  Killick snorted.  What would a lubber know anyway?  The rest of the crew stared on, unnerved by the fiery display.  Even Lt. Pullings, though standing fast, appeared to be uneasily awaiting the coming confrontation.

Jack let fly.  

"Good God, man!  We fly our flag with honor.  We fly false colors when it suits us.... but I will NOT have this, this... abomination... flying from the deck of my own goddamn command."  He rounded on Killick so sharply the heels of his black boots snapped together.  He was no longer shouting, which was somehow worse than the Captain in full temper.  "Remove this disgrace from my sight!  If I see it again...."  The crew held their breath.  "... I will throw every last stitch over the side and God himself won't stop me from tossing you along with it."  

Gnarled fingers jumped to the task with surprising speed.    

Killick cursed inwardly as the rumpled Miss Flora appeared on deck.  The sun hit her just right, throwing the soft tumble of her straw colored curls into an ethereal golden glow around her pretty face.  She fair to sparkled there, and to a man, she drew every last eye. 

Followed directly by the full force of the Captain's ire.  

"Miss Bailey?" Jack bellowed. The winsome creature tossed her curls and stood looking at him, hands to her full hips.

"Yes, Captain?" she replied with a look of wide-eyed innocence on her baby blue eyes. Her little tongue peeped out from her lips and his attention was caught by watching its progress across her mouth. Then there was the blush that stole over the cheeks and made its way tantalizingly down the swell of her plump bosoms.

"Madam?" He began, but no sooner had he opened his mouth then he noticed her dainty ankle revealed by the way she had gathered up her skirts to climb the stairs. And then he recalled her underwear and realized she must be quite naked beneath. That led to other more prurient thoughts.

"Captain?" Her voice brought him back to himself again and he realized he must have been standing and staring at her.

"Get this damned frilly nonsense down from my ship this instance! The next time I see it, it goes over the side. D'ye smoke me, madam?" He shouted and turned to stride away across the quarterdeck trying to stem the involuntary surge of blood to his loins. Her voice floated back to him on the breeze.

"Why then, Captain...I should be quite naked beneath. Surely that would not be wise in such company?"

And then the unthinkable happened. There was a titter of laughter amongst the men that began to rise until it was threatening to burst out into raucous laughter. The hussy had made of him a figure of fun on his own ship!

"Get below, madam, before I toss you yourself over and have done with it. And if any man, ANY MAN, here would like to explain what they find so amusing, then perhaps they would like to walk up here and explain?"

Flora quickly ducked below and the men immediately fell silent, pretending to be deeply engaged in their tasks. No one was prepared to risk the wrath of Captain Aubrey.  Jack meanwhile stood and seethed - but did not dare continue. His reaction had possibly been rather excessive and he knew that it appeared that he was aroused by the sight of a lady's nether garments.

Which of course he was. Damnation, would he never be free from the scourge of his importunate prick?

That night, the mess invited the Captain to dine, well aware that he was at the moment excluded from his own quarters and anxious to try to return into his good books after the incident of the petticoat and bloomers had so soured Aubrey's mood earlier.

A fine dinner was consumed and Jack called for some bottles from his own store; the men ate and drank well and it was not long before the entire company was in their cups and the usual formalities were dropped as they caroused together as men.

"Mowett...Mowett...let's have one of your poems, man...they always stir the blood and bring a tear to my eye...another rousing battle set to your epic rhymes, perhaps?

Mowett's normally cherubic red face was now even ruddier, as he stood up to declaim. "I wrote this just last night, sir. Its theme is somewhat different from some of my earlier work, but was inspired by my recent affection for a certain young lady..."

Pullings snorted and muttered a profanity under his breath. Jack frowned, too drunk to understand the nuances of the conversation and thus entirely missing the point. "Ahhhh. A love ballad, is it....? To fire another sort of blood, eh, you rogue... let's have it then and see if you manage a rise out of any of us....ha ha ha! You smoke that....a rise, man?"

Stephen Maturin winced, well aware what was coming but powerless to do any more than watch as the ship foundered on the rocks of male libido...

Oh Flora fair, let down your hair
Its golden locks like hollyhocks
Fragrant on a summer's day

Oh Flora dear, give me your ear
Whose tiny shell like a little bell
Rings with loving sighs

"What the deuce is that nonsense?" Jack shouted down the table. "Am I to assume that this was written for that doxy we picked up at sea? Have you been dipping your wick there, man?"

Pullings leapt to his feet. "If he has, sir, he he'll have me to answer to, the filthy dog!" The young first lieutenant looked for all the world as though he were about to take a swing at his portly colleague. Mowett faced him back; they were on the brink of calling each other out.

Jack stood up and roared, "Get those two fools out of my sight! If either of you go near that strumpet or each other before New York, I'll set the three of you in a boat and you can roger yourselves blind in the open sea...Women on board...! It happens every time...I should have left her where she was...!

From the quarterdeck, Jack's foul mood made itself known to the night watch. Every man kept a weather eye on their captain. They rarely saw him in such a state. It quickened their steps, it sharpened their ears, it honed their hands on the lines. But nothing they did passed near to pleasing Goldilocks. With each turn of his pacing route upon the lee side of the quarterdeck, the men held their breaths and waited on another brusque order.

When at last the great forbidding presence of Captain Jack Aubrey stalked off the quarterdeck and descended below, every soul on deck breathed a sigh of relief.

In his outer cabin, Jack paced, his blood still up and his mind in turmoil. "Killick! Killick there? God blast your soul, man. Light along coffee and the toasted cheese! And whatever's left of the port with the yellow label."

From his duty position on the other side of the bulkhead, Killick muttered, "Whatever yer lordship orders. Ye should just have at her and we'd all live happily, wouldn't we now? Always the blasted toasted cheese for him and me never getting any rest when he's got his blood boiling so hot ..."

But even Killick was clever enough that night not to invite the captain's wrath upon him. He fixed a diffident look upon his old wizened face as he set the tray down and drew the captain his first draught of coffee. On his way out of the cabin, he turned to see Jack pouring a glass of port.

There was to be no sleep for Flora with such goings on aboard the ship that night. She'd supped alone in the cabin but had overheard the loud arguments of the officers at dinner. How could she not? The ship was not so large that voices raised as loud as they had and in relatively close proximity to the great cabin would not be heard by Flora. She'd also heard his barked commands from the quarterdeck for the last hour. And, of course, there was no way that Jack's bellowing to Killick just moments before had not chased any hope of sleep away for Flora.

"Have you another glass, Captain? I believe after all the great doings tonight that I could be ever so grateful for a touch of spirits to lessen my anxiety," Flora told Jack as she stood awkwardly in the middle of his outer cabin.

He had not even heard her approach. He'd been pacing before his desk, inwardly cursing his officers and his damnable luck to have had the great misfortune to pick up the woman ... When the woman in question suddenly appeared as if in a dream. One minute he was alone in his black temper, the next she was there before him.

When he beheld her, he nearly stopped breathing. It had been far too long for a man like Jack to have been without any woman. And the woman before him ... could she have done this on purpose? Was she mocking him? How dare she come into his sleeping area wearing nothing but one of his white uniform shirts? With the buttons undone nearly to the middle of her chest? Making it impossible for him to not see the rise of her soft, ample bosom? And her legs ... bare under the lower edge of his shirt? How dare Killick allow her to use his clothing in such a manner? Did the old goat take some randy pleasure at night, dreaming of this woman wearing naught but a man's shirt?

And her hair! How it flowed around her face, setting off the wide eyes and the softly parted lips. Eyes that begged to glow with passion and lips that begged to be kissed.

"Madam, you should not be in here. Not when I am in this mood. Your very presence on my ship has caused nothing but a lowering of discipline and has set man against man ..."

"Is that all my presence has done, Captain?" Flora said softly, walking forward, coming straight toward Jack ... her intentions plain to see within the invitation of her proudly erect nipples. "Are you quite sure you do not wish me here, Captain? There is nothing I could do to induce you to allow me to stay? Do you smoke my meaning, Captain?"

"If you linger, madam, you place yourself at my mercy as a gentleman."

"If I stay, Captain, I do not wish mercy nor do I wish for you to be a gentleman."

In times of stress, Jack Aubrey had two main reactions: he either became aggressive or he became amorous. He longed for either the violent catharsis of action or for that of making love. He loved a battle. He loved a wench ...(Patrick O'Brien)

Flora was right there before him. Offering herself. Her little hands reached for his buttoned breeches and in a wink of the eye, she had him undone and she was holding his manhood. Jack breathed through his mouth, trying to control his ardor. But when Flora's little tongue licked her lips and she gave an excited groan as she stroked him, he could hold himself in check no longer.

His big hands grabbed the shirt she wore and he ripped it open, revealing the creamy soft skin of the voluptuous beauty panting before him. He lifted her in his strong arms and placed her squarely down upon his desk. Shoving her thighs apart so that he could stand in their inviting private space, he moved in ... and laid her firmly back upon the desk's surface, following her down, his lips devouring hers ... his tongue merciless in its exploration of the sweet sanctuary of her mouth.

And then he sucked in mouthfuls of her breasts while she writhed and moaned beneath him, her voice making nonsense noises of need and desire ... until she begged him to enter her. She pleaded with him while he ate his fill of her bosom, his teeth grazing her nipples with such skill that she breathlessly warned him she was about to come ... and then with a little cry of surprise, she came as he added to his attack by plundering her wet little cunt with his thumb.

"Oh, Captain! Please! Take me ... take me now, sir! Teach me to flaunt myself aboard your ship ... to entice you ... to brazenly sleep next to you each night separated only by a flimsy bulkhead... do with me as you wish, Captain ..."

On and on she begged him, her voice becoming huskier and huskier.

Finally, Jack could hold back no longer. He wrapped her legs around his waist and told her to prepare for boarding. And board her, he did. He plunged in, his hot cock stretching her obscenely ... he could feel her struggling below him ... he liked it ... he liked her cries of abandon ...

Her hands clutched at his back; he could feel her nails digging in even through the fabric of his shirt. It drove him on. In he would plunge, out he would draw, in he would lunge ... and under him, she bucked and mewled until she screamed his name and he could feel the walls of her sweet, dark tunnel grabbing his hardness as she came. Once he knew he had well-rogered her, he thrust hard once, twice, thrice and then and only then was he ready to really let himself go ... coming into her with a triumphant roar that he hoped would be heard before the mast and down to the orlop when ...

Mowett's voice rang out clearly in the night, his heavy rap upon the great cabin's outer door resounding in the night. "Captain Aubrey? Captain? Begging your pardon, sir, Lt. Pullings requests your presence on the quarterdeck. A sail, sir."

For just a moment, Jack hung between the two opposing forces ... what had seemed so real and what now turned out to be truly, damnably, frustratingly real.

"Where away, Mr. Mowett?" Jack finally barked out, forcing his eyes open and making himself accept that it had only been a dream.

"Two points on the starboard bow, topgallants up, sir."

Rubbing his eyes and peering about his darkened cabin, Jack sighed heavily and then sprang from his bunk, grabbing for a towel to clean himself up. He wished like anything it had not been just a dream.

He smiled wistfully and thought about how shocked Miss Flora Bailey would have been to have known he'd entertained such lascivious dreams of her

Jack Aubrey burst from his cabin, somewhat red-faced, but already his mind on the possible danger from the ship that had been sighted. He held the glass to his eye and concentrated, watching intently as the ship emerged from the distance and came into range. All the men stood about eyes trained, trying to make out the details. But the moment passed."Stand down. Merchant vessel. As you were," Jack announced, his strong voice ringing to the topsails.  "Killick? Pot of coffee, if you will, man, I may as well take the watch as I am up..."

For the next half hour or so, Jack sat sipping his coffee and drawing on a cigar as he contemplated his life, basking under a night sky that was studded with stars. It was clear and cold, a brilliant moon shining down. He thought to himself that it was a night for lovers and then smiled at his frivolous thought. A post-captain of his experience should not be entertaining such silly notions; this was another wretched consequence of the presence of that goddamned woman!

"...OH! I beg your pardon, sir! I had imagined that you would be retired so late..." Jack turned his head, found himself staring into the eyes of the object of his recent erotic fantasy and blushed despite himself. He was glad for the night that she could not see his coy reaction; it might have given him away. "I shall go down below..." Flora muttered in embarrassment.

"NO...stay!" The words were spoken before he had time to think about them. "What I mean is...you can take the air if you are unable to sleep. I shall leave..."

Flora smiled. "You don't like me much, do you, captain? You think I'm just a bit of a wench, no better than she ought to be?"

Jack frowned. "No. It isn't personal. I simply do not enjoy the extra burden that the presence of a nubile woman places on men who are already at the end of their rope."

Flora thought about his words before replying. "Would you regard yourself amongst the men in this case, Captain Aubrey? Are you at the end of your rope?" she whispered, moving to sit beside him. Her fragrance assailed him and the slender softness of her body pressed in against his thigh. The hand that held the cup shook slightly. He swallowed deep.

"My rope...is not in question here. I speak of my men. They are rough and ready fellows who are easily aroused by a beautiful woman..."

"But you are not? A beautiful woman is of no interest to you, Captain? For you are strong and resolute, are you not? The temptations that beset ordinary men never affect one such as you, do they? You do not wish to strip each garment from me and feast your eyes on my nakedness, I am sure! You would never gaze upon my round pink breasts and imagine the taste of my rosy nipples in your mouth, now would you? Nor do you ever imagine how my little wet snatch would grip you tight as you took me with your mighty prick! Post captains of the Royal Navy are never tempted in such a way, isn't that so?"

All the while that Flora had spoken in her voice like warm honey her small hand had stroked down Jack's leg and begun its tantalizingly slow journey towards his groin where he could no longer disguise the evidence of his arousal. When her palm found the hard swell she moaned lasciviously as he groaned lewdly.

"Well, Captain Aubrey, what is it to be? A visit to your cabin and the relief that you seek or do you wish to suffer this all the way to America? Are your principles more rigid that your member?" She flashed a seductive glance at him as she fondled his groin. Rising, Flora touched his face gently. "I believe you are the Master and Commander of this vessel. I await your decision below, sir!"

And she slipped away from him, leaving him breathless and engorged. What the devil was he to do now?

Jack paced the deck hoping his arousal would not be too evident to the men on the sparsely populated deck at night.  He worked to get his emotions and body under control.  He thought of duty and country to little avail.  He remained painfully aroused throughout the remainder of the watch.  Finally at five bells, Pullings came on deck to take the next watch.  He tersely briefed him on the quiet night and strode below deck saying he would retire to his cabin.

Lt. Pullings was about to remind the Captain that his cabin was occupied, but he held his tongue and watched the Captain disappear below.  Perhaps this was best, he mused to himself

Jack strode into his cabin, pulled off his coat and loosened his cravat.  He gulped down a glass of port and turned toward the subject of his torment who now was sitting quietly on his chair.  Her hair was loose and cascaded to her waist.  She wore only a long dressing gown.  His eyes bore into her.  "I thought you weren't coming," she whispered.

"I haven't yet come, Madam, but I intend to.  As will you."  He covered the distance between them in two strides, wrapped his arm about her waist, pulled her up and hard against him.  He forced his lips down on hers, parting them, then thrusting his tongue into her mouth and filling it.  She fleetingly thought that she may have pushed the formidable Captain too far.

But then she was responding to his harsh kisses and pillaging tongue and rubbing against his raging erection.  He laughed and said, "Who is Master now, Flora?"  He pushed her up against the cabin wall, continuing his devastating kisses.  His big hands roamed over her body.  He pulled the gown up to her waist and cupped her naked bottom in his hands squeezing and rubbing her soft rounded flesh.  She moaned, "You are, Captain."

In one motion he pulled the gown the rest of the way up, over her head and off her body dashed to the floor.  The cool early morning air washed over her body, nipples puckering in response.  Jack saw the puckered flesh and moved his hungry lips and tongue from her lips to her breasts and nipples.  He licked and suckled and nipped them until she writhed in his hands.

He undid his breeches and lifted her to position his entry.  "Bring me in, Flora," he commanded.  She slid her hands inside his breeches to grasp his huge erection and free it from its confines.  She guided him through her wet lips to her eager opening and placed the engorged tip inside.  "Jack, now," she pleaded.

He thrust up hard, impaling her against the wall with his cock.  She wrapped her legs around his waist as he withdrew and thrust up hard filling her again.  He fucked her hard against the wall a few more strokes.  Her cunt was wet and tight.  He growled in frustration as he was unable to obtain the rhythm he desired in this position. 

He hugged her body tight to him and carried her over to his bunk lowering them down without losing his penetration of her.  He began to fuck her in earnest with hard, sure, deep thrusts in and out of her body.  She moved her legs higher up to pull his cock deeper into her flesh and moaned for him.  "That's it, Flora.  Come for me," he grunted.  She moaned and cried out his name as her cunt squeezed down hard on his cock in orgasm.  "Yes, Flora," he yelled and fucked faster until he shot his come deep up inside her hot body.

After he emptied his seed completely and her body stopped gripping his cock he withdrew and fell to his bunk aside of her.  Slowly they both opened their eyes and locked their gazes on one another, panting heavily.

He groaned.  She giggled.  The frantic beating of their hearts slowed and left behind a pleasant warmth, tingling under their rosy skin that was moist with sweat and the more intimate traces of a man and woman well pleasured.  His face was red.  So were her cheeks.  And breasts.  And thighs.  A pearly wetness glistened between her legs and matted the golden brown curls at the base of his now drooping cock. 

Flora's eyes twinkled as she ran her finger over the oozing tip, smiling to herself as he gave an involuntary shudder that caused a few more drops to seep out.  Still feeling rather self-indulgent, Jack hoped to see her bring that sweet little digit to her mouth.  Men are such visual creatures and the Captain was no exception.  He had no qualms about admitting he took a masculine enjoyment from watching such a sensually erotic act and he was most heartily pleased when instead of flicking her wicked little tongue over her finger, she bent and lapped away the fresh drops before collapsing against his side with a breathy sigh as she pressed little kisses over his wide chest. 

Jack smiled, his mood vastly improved.  They whispered a bit, silly things, as the fevered tempest slowly blew itself out.  He lay back with a low rumble of pleasure, content to do nothing more than breathe in the musky scent of their lingering passion and fill his big hands with her soft creamy flesh while she nuzzled at him like a contented kitten.  She smelled good.  And her hair tickled pleasantly.  He had the desire to pet her.  So he did.     

For as much as Jack enjoyed the act of congress, it was the intimate moments after that were the true prize.  Though nothing compared to the inviolate solace he found with his lovely Sophie, and though this lusty encounter was not quite the stuff of his numerous affairs de coeur, there was something about the simplicity of a man and woman enjoying each other's bodies that he found compelling on a base level.  For all the damnable trouble women brought to his well-ordered life, Jack Aubrey was a man who also appreciated the softness they brought along with it. 

A gentle word.  A sweet voice uplifted in song.... or pleasure.  Laugher that sounded of little bells.  The delicate arch of a dainty foot.  The slender length of a swanlike neck.  The heaving of a plump bosom.  The fragrant perfume they dotted on their skin, as well as the headier perfume of their arousal.  The feel of a silky curl wrapped around his finger or the softness of honeyed flesh as it yielded to his forceful assault.  Their tender care.  He liked it all.  Even their sharp tongues.  For what man could resist taming such a delectable shrew?        

Though he was loathe to drag himself away, even then in those few selfish moments of utter satisfaction, the busy sound of the ship intruded; the creaks and groans of wood and sail, the patter of men running to and fro, the muted voices of the crew.  In truth, none of it had ever really gone away.  Even the much needed tupping of a lusty girl couldn't drown out his duty to king and country.  All the more reason to keep women off his beloved ship, he mused as his fingers found her rosy nipple and idly plucked at it with an easy familiarity.

He sighed.  It really was such a pity.  In the wake of a good rogering, Jack preferred nothing more than to let his earthy appetites have full rein while he gorged himself on his partner's delectable flesh, preferably followed by several glasses of fine spirits and finally the blessed relief of sleep found with his head pillowed on a soft plump breast while the scent of her filled his head.  Was there ever a finer rest?  Or a better way to wake than in the arms of a comely young girl with a lusty appetite for the pleasures of the flesh?

But duty called.  Still, even with that pressing matter battering at his conscience, he was unable to turn away her tender ministrations as he rose and prepared to dress.  He braced his thick arm on a stout beam above while she attended him, gently cleaning him first with her mouth and then with a ready cloth dipped in a nearby basin of cool water.  How he loved watching the feminine way women went about their tasks.  How she tucked a loose curl behind her ear while her tiny hands rinsed and wrung out the cloth once more. 

She stroked it over his fleshy lips and stubbly chin, wiping away her scent before she moved it lower, to the musky hair under his arms before sweeping it across the small of his back.  The fire in his blood rose at the intimate attention.  So did his prick.  She laughed when he grunted and a sour expression appeared on his handsome face.

"Damned nuisance," he muttered.

"This lovely creature?"  She asked, stroking the thickening length of his cock with her slender cool fingers.

A wry grin split his face and he shook his head.  "My duties."  He dressed but made no effort to return in kind her tender care of his body.  Not this time.  That was inviting trouble.  He knew his limits.  One touch and he would be well away.  No,  better to save that pleasure for next time.  And there most certainly would be a next time.

Jack was nothing if not a pragmatic man.  Back and forth he'd gone in his tortured reasoning, but now..... well, a bell could not be unrung.  The deed was done.  Most pleasurably, he thought to himself as he rebuckled his sword belt and settled it on his hips.  He had already broken the golden rule with this lady.  One time or one hundred times, it mattered not.  It was still the same infidelity.  He might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. 

If he hadn't been so satiated, there might even have even been a bounce in his step as he walked toward the door... but he was most pleasurably satiated... and he strolled leisurely, cockily instead.  He was content.  Even optimistic.  His prospects were shaping up to look very promising indeed. 

At the door, he turned smartly and gave a little bow.  Although, this time, when he ordered her to keep her intimate garments out of his sight until they made landfall, it was for a different reason altogether.  And Flora was only too happy to oblige.  In fact, in the three days it took to reach their destination, she wore very little at all.  Mostly just one very virile sea Captain and a rather impressive sex flush. 

But of course, all good things come to an end.  And as the Captain's diligent eye watched her delicate skirts sway as she was helped ashore, he felt a start of pleasure in his breast as she turned and gave him a jaunty little wink.  Oh, ha ha ha!  His prospects were indeed good.  The next time he was in port, the lovely Miss Flora would undoubtedly welcome his card.  To say nothing of his more amorous advances.

It was a story that got told again and again in the months that followed... the men would raise their cups and crow how the braw, brawny crew of the Surprise had found a siren at sea and braved the fabled perils to pluck her from the briny deep... and when they were far into their cups, some brave fellow would stand up and shout how only Lucky Jack could manage to pluck a siren...on land.  And the men would cheer and whistle and stomp their feet.  And somewhere in his cabin above, Jack would smile and raise a glass, his thick finger resting on a passage that had recently become quite dear.