Chapter 1

Celeste was excited as she rode with her father in their carriage toward the docks of Brest, France. It was spring, and she felt so alive after the dull cold winter. The docks were busy with hundreds of sailors, merchants, porters, as the trading fleets prepared to start running their routes now that the winter storm season was over. Carts, mules, and men carrying bundles blocked the road, so the going was slow. Eventually their carriage arrived at the dock of her father's flagship trading ship, the Amie, named after Celeste's mother.

As she walked carefully up the ramp, her heeled leather boots were slippery on the wet wood. Her father walked behind her, and they were followed by porters carrying their many trunks of clothes and personal items. Soon she was unpacked and settled in her spacious cabin near the bow of the ship. Her father was in the master cabin at the aft of the boat. She had been looking forward to this trip all Winter. She had convinced her father to allow her to accompany him on his yearly voyage to his trading company's African headquarters. She had just turned 15 and was looking forward to getting out of the house, and getting out from under the thumb of their many servants, who ensured she was never alone.

On her second night after they had set sail, her father went to bed early. Celeste lay on her bunk, listening to the water lapping against the side of the boat as they sailed along through the Atlantic. Restless, she got up, slipped on a white silk shift, and slipped quietly into the hall, the smooth wood cool under her bare feet. She made her way to the galley, thinking of getting something to eat or drink. She found several sailors playing at dice and drinking rum and grog. They invited her in, tentatively, on one hand she was a cute girl on a ship of all men, but on the other, her father owned the ship. She soon set them at ease with her easy manner and silken voice. Soon they were teaching her how to play their dice game, and she was drinking grog from a metal mug. A few hours later the sailors called it a night, and Celeste staggered down the hall to her room, with two sailors escorting her, helping keep her from falling over.

Once back in her room, she stripped the light shift off, dropping it in a pile on the floor. She lay back on her bed, the cabin was spinning around her and she closed her eyes. When she was at home, she snuck as much wine as she could from the kitchen after her parents dinner parties, and was no stranger to feeling this way. She liked the feeling a great deal. Celeste stretched out, her eyes still closed against the spinning room. She was 5'6", slender like her mother, weighing only about 105 pounds, with long glossy black hair that spilled down her back. Her hair was her one vanity, she brushed it 100 strokes every night before bed. Well, maybe two vanities if you counted her breasts. She has firm large breasts for her age (around a 34D in todays measurements). Her waist was corset trained, as befitted a young wealth French girl, down to 19 inches, giving her a stunning hourglass figure that had been drawing eyes for the last couple of years. The cool night air made her nipples hard like pebbles atop her full breasts, but the rum from the grog kept her feeling warm. Her small hands caressed her breasts, rolling her nipples between her slim fingers. She was petite enough that her beasts were larger than her hands and she couldn't cup the whole breast.

Her drunken mind was fantasizing about some of the handsome sailors she had spent the evening drinking and dicing with. The effeminate boyish men that filled her social circle in Brest roused no desire in her, despite their obvious attraction to her. These sailors though, she blushed, were real Men. When she caught one of them staring at her full breasts filling out her thin shift, her nipples would harden blatantly, her cheeks would color, and she felt a warmth in her belly. Soon her hand was between her lean thighs her fingers deep inside her wet virginal slit. Well, virginal as in she hadn't yet been taken by a man, but her own experiments had long ago destroyed her hymen. She began moaning, thinking of what a horny sailor could do with her. Thinking of being used by some of the crew combined with her plunging fingers brought her to a drunken moaning orgasm before she fell asleep.

The next morning a light hangover colored her mood, and her father was content to leave her alone in her cabin, while he worked on paperwork in his. She spent the afternoon on deck, giving shy smiles to the sailors she recognized from the night before. The sea was calm and the sun was warm on her pale skin. She read and watched the water. When the sun went down, she ate with her father and the captain in the captain's small but functional cabin. She managed to talk her father into letting her have a glass of wine with dinner. Afterward, her father begged off to sleep, and she returned to her cabin. She washed herself in the small tin tub bolted to the floor of her bathroom. She ran her brush through her long ebony hair one hundred times, staring critically at herself in the mirror, biting her lips to flush them with blood. She tied her long hair back with a blood red ribbon. She put on her most risque dress, a pink filmy sheath with a whalebone corset built in. The corset pushed her breasts up and together, showing an eye catching amount of cleavage. The filmy layers clung tightly to her hips and spread loosely down and out. She slid her feet into her highest heels black leather boots which came up almost to her knees. She always felt so short next to the burly sailors.

Two hours after her father had retired to his cabin, she was walking down the hall to the gallery. She was welcomed warmly into the galley, and given a seat in the crowded room. Before the blush from noticing so many eyes lock on the exposed tops of her youthful breasts had fully reddened her cheeks, a large tin mug of grog was already put in front of her. She tried to hide her blush behind the cup, taking a deep drink. Soon she was laughing and dicing again. Soon the meager supply of pennies she had brought with her had passed into the hands of the sailors. The man on her right offered her a stack of copper coins for a kiss. She giggled and blushed, but the laughing men cajoled her until she gave in, taking his stack of coins and leaning in to brush her full lips against his. She giggled and pulled away quickly. The man groaned in disappointment, and the men laughed at her. They made fun of her, saying she'd clearly never kissed a boy. Celeste had kissed a few boys back in France, not enough, but some. She protested blushing harder, and licked her plump lips. She leaned back in, and gave the man a real kiss, her lips parting and her tongue sliding into his mouth, tentatively at first, and then with passion as she felt heat fill her body. The men cheered and laughed as she finally pulled herself away. She drank to calm her agitation and self-consciousness.

It wasn't long before she was out of coin again and she was kissing the sailor on her left for a few more coins. By the third time she went broke the lamps were overly bright from the rum in the grog, and her movements were unsteady and overly deliberate. A man from across the table declared it was his turn for a kiss, he stood up and came around to her chair and pulled her abruptly to her feet. He wrapped her arms around her tiny frame tightly pulling her into him and up to his mouth. As they kissed his hands found her high tight ass and squeezed. She yelped into his mouth as the men around the table laughed. She had tensed but soon let herself mold softly against his body as arousal swept over her. She was weak-kneed and almost fell when he finally pulled away from the kiss and embrace. She laughed with the men to cover her arousal. A few hours later all of the men had tasted her sweet 15 year old mouth, and more than a few had let their hands roam over her body. The game had wrapped up, and she tried to stand, only to find that the spinning room she had been trying to ignore didn't bode well for her sobriety.

She tried to get out of her chair only to find that gravity was strong and her legs were weak. She fell back into her seat laughing and red faced. The man to her right stood and helped her to her feet. She thanked him, slurring heavily, and slumped against his strong form. Together they made it down the hallway, although she could never have made it upright on her own. Her legs were like cooked noodles, and she couldn't stop giggling. He helped her into her cabin and she was too drunk to notice the door closing behind them. She collapsed onto her back on the bed, laughing as the room spun dizzyingly around her. Her eyes popped open as she felt his lips on hers. He settled onto the bed next to her, kissing her deeply. His rough hands groped her breasts through to the corset making her moan. Her eyes closed to block out the spinning room, and soon his hands were bunching her skirts up around her hips as they slid up her legs. Her hips arched as his finger dug into her wetness. She was very wet, being aroused from all the kisses and touching and stared during the game with the sailors. He had no trouble working first one then two fingers inside her. She was tight, he must have been thrilled with his luck getting this just turned 15 years old virgin, drunk and alone with him in her cabin.