Pleasure Cruise update (Patreon)

1,000+ new words catch us up with the sought-after Tiara! ~dS

Tiara had decided to search the ship more strategically. She was at one of the top Observation Decks when she left the coffee lounge, so she decided to take the elevator all the way down to the Main Deck and work her way back up, ending at the Observation Deck at the opposite end of the Mestra.

She was about midway through the Lower Promenade Deck when she reached the Art Gallery. No one was on the ship to buy art, so Tiara found it mostly empty - mostly. As she wandered through the short ins-and-outs of the gallery, briefly admiring each erotic scene  hanging on every wall with a smirk, she made notes of which she’d come back to steal when the time was right.

Nearing the last interior dead-end of artwork Tiara was about to turn back and leave before spotting a foot on the floor. Stepping further around the final corner she found a high-end sex doll on the floor.

Or, it was mostly a high-end sex doll. It had the glassy eyes and rubber waiting maw of a rubber head, but the breasts, arms, legs, and pussy appeared to be from a real person - or people. Tiara wondered if she’d stumbled upon yet another person turned into their inanimate erotic fantasy.

Tiara’s already hard rubber shaft sprung up even higher above her thighs at the thought of it.

“Well, don’t you look inviting,” Tiara laughed as she stepped closer to the doll, it’s back barely resting against the wall as the lovely breasts hung from the hunched torso. Tiara could see that the fleshy slit was glistening from a profuse wetness. “It’d be a shame to leave you here wasting all of that.”

There was no tenderness as Tiara kneeled down and began to move the doll into a better position for her planned fun. Unlike the stoned woman no mental communication came to Tiara as she pulled and shifted the arms and legs, but there was a general sense that sexy playtime was desired. On top of that, Tiara expected that if what she was about to do wasn’t wanted the ship’s mysterious powers would stop her.

And they didn’t.

In short order the doll was limply resting with its soft ass up in the air, juices dripping down its thighs. Tiara’s passions had fully flared before her and her hands were exploring every inch of the doll’s strange composition. She rose up onto her knees and slid into the wet and waiting depths with a very satisfied grunt. A slow gleeful exhale accompanied each swallowed inch until Tiara felt her mons bump the doll’s ass.

Gripping the soft hips Tiara continued her pleasures, her eyes fluttering open and closed. And it was during one of the open flutters that she took particular note of the painting hanging in front of her.

The scene was captured with oil paint, thick swaths of it creased by brush stroke heaving in all directions across the canvas. A brook crossed from the upper left of the rectangular scene down to the right corner. On the far bank of the water a yellow plain of grain stretched back to some hills. On the other bank a large tree rose up, providing shade to the moss and grass growing beneath it.

Amidst the water were a pair of maidens. Their togas were cast upon the grassy side of the stream, and at first glance one could believe they were bathing each other. But as Tiara considered it more and more between each grunt she became certain the deo were lovers, pleasuring each other within the lapping current.

They were not the only ones in the painting. Reclined beneath the tree was another woman. She still wore her toga, but it was partially undone, revealing much of her hourglass form. One hand was upon a generous breast, while the other had slipped between generous thighs. Its grip upon the woman’s slit was all that concealed the private place from Tiara’s eyes.

Which, if Tiara was not mistaken, could see this third woman moving.

There wasn’t much motion to her. It appeared that for the most part she was firmly affixed under the tree upon the canvas. What was moving was the hand on her left breast, while the other hand undulated atop her lower lips. Her face, although roughly captured in the broad strokes of the oil paint, was clearly watching the motionless pair of bathers while going through silent cycles of climaxes.

If this had once been a woman, now turned into a few smudges of paint, it was the most extreme work of alteration Tiara had seen done on the Mestra. She looked for the golden plate which exalted each work’s title, and found it.

“I wish people could watch me getting off watching those two beauties!”

Tiara figured that was all she needed to know for certain that there was indeed a passenger perched upon the canvas, perhaps permanently now a part of the still sapphic scene.

How many other frames held passengers whose movements had been too small for Tiara to notice?

And better yet, how many state rooms might that mean were now empty? Empty and ripe for plundering.

The greedy thought of new targets pushed Tiara over the edge, and she filled the fleshy recesses of the doll with her technicolor seed. Her back arched and her feet curled as her rubber rod stretched and twitched before she heaved backwards onto her heels, Tiara’s spent length slipping out with a Pop! and the knob dragging down the doll’s thigh.

A few deep breaths let Tiara recover, and as she stood up she had another greedy thought.

“You’re coming with me.”

It took great effort for Tiara to sling the doll over her shoulder, and as she did she heard a pair of voices around the corner.

“Ooo, look at that bed!”

“It’s like something Marie Antoinette would have slept in!”

“Mmm, I wish we could be painted into that bed.”

“Uhg, don’t tease me. Could you imagine hanging on someone’s wall, sixty-nining forever?”

“Fuuuck, yes, our orgasms as someone’s art?!”

“Yeah, I’d love it if we were tongue deep in each other’s pussies in that painting!”