After the rollicking debauchery of Release the Kraken, I couldn’t resist takin’ another swing o’ the cutlass at the high seas of smut. And thus was born The Lusty Barnacle: A Scholar’s Plunder—a bawdy, wind-blown romp where rum flows freely, trousers vanish mysteriously, and no riggin’ is safe from a thorough ravishing.
Our tale begins when mild-mannered librarian’s assistant Timothy Tiddleton finds himself abducted by the infamous Captain Mad Molly Tugg—red-haired temptress, terror of the tropics, and wielder of a jewel-encrusted strap-on known only as Poseidon’s Wrath. Before he can say “nautical metaphor,” Timothy’s been tied to a mast, licked mango pulp off a map, and charted Nancy’s glowing ass for buried treasure.
What follows is a mess of cannonball oiling, topographical cunnilingus, enchanted sex toys, and a sea shanty so obscene it made a gull drop dead from shock. There’s a sentient doubloon that sings. A parrot with no moral compass. And a finale that involves pegging, poetry, and the phrase “Ego sum pirata!” shouted mid-orgasm.
If ye like yer smut with salt, slapstick, and a hint of sorcery, hoist the mainsail and dive in.
And remember, me hearties—if ye laugh, gasp, or find yer sash suddenly damp, send me a bottle o’ rum or shout “spank me pegleg!” at the moon. She’ll hear. She always does.
Cap’n Eric