Shore Leave

It was October 31, 2026, All Hallows' Eve, as it was called in the before times. Before times? Before the modern world, telecommunications, consumerism. The heavy all encompassing burden of technology that is increasingly suffocating humanity.

Seven men, obviously sailors from their simple dress and mannerisms, entered the seedy brothel located by the docks of New York Harbour. Nothing about this was unusual, as New York was a crossroads of the world for maritime trade, and sailors entering a brothel was certainly a regular event on any night, in any port.

The brothel manager greeted them with a certain aire of familiarity.

"Welcome back, friends," he greeted, "The usual?"

The leader of the seven lustily slammed a fistful of gold coins onto the reception desk, probably simpler for sailors navigating the complicated world of foreign currency exchange.

"The usual," the sailor replied, "the cost is the same?"

The manager, with an apologetic tone, hesitatingly fretted, "Costs have gone up. A little more, please?"

The sailor laughed with a booming voice, "You scoundrel. Take more, it does not matter to us!"

With that, he added two more coins to the small pile. With the current price of gold, there was significantly more than normal being paid for the product being requested.

The manager retrieved seven of his whores and presented them to the sailors. Now, this is a dockside brothel in a port city. So any whores present in this establishment would never be "top shelf", as bar owners would say.

These seven whores, all in their twenties, were a motley bunch worn down by a hard life of circumstances, drugs, alcohol, and their current trade. You would have to look hard to see the beauty they once possessed, but sailors deprived of companionship for many months had the eye to do that.

"Do these meet your needs?" the brothel manager postulated.

The leader looked at his shipmates, and then all seven turned their gazes to inspect the women on display.

Finally he boomed the question, "Will they last the night?"

All seven sailors laughed lustily, and then turned their attention back to the girls.

Albert entreated, "Fear not, lasses, no harm will come to you tonight. My name is Albert, First Mate of our humble brigantine, a cargo ship to you land lubbers, and these other six are my crew. We sail the Seven Seas, visiting many ports, and only find ourselves in this particular port once a year for shore leave here.

We seek good companionship, and we will entertain you well with all the delights you desire. Then you will entertain us aboard our ship. We have paid the manager well for your services, but we hope you join us voluntarily. At least come with us to our favorite pub for some merriment."

All the women agreed, and this haggard group made their way through a maze of streets and alleys until they were in front of a pub that had seen better days. One of the women who knew the area was slightly confused, as one or two months ago this was an derelict building.

Now it was a ramshackle pub? Well, that must be artificial character to attract the seamen who frequent the area. They certainly would not be looking for an uptown cocktail bar.

The group entered the pub, and found themselves the only clientele there. But it was small, and the fourteen of them certainly filled the place. It was dark and musky. Character indeed.

The ancient publican approached the group. "The usual?" he asked.

Albert handed him four gold coins and replied, "Of course, rum for us, and anything the women want."

He leaned in close to the women and clarified, "And I mean anything. Alcohol is plentiful here, but if you require special treats you normally buy in the street, just ask the publican. I am out of touch with what is available these days, or what you desire for merriment. The choices seem to change every year. But I am serious, ask for anything you want. This is our Shore Leave!"

The women decided to take him at his word and gave the publican an impressive list of all their desires, the poisons of the modern world.

The publican promptly returned with everything requested. Rum for the sailors, drinks for the women, and a veritable cornucopia of street treats. All of the women were shocked to see what was on offer, and several tried to excuse themselves to visit the toilet to indulge, some quite desperately.

Albert commanded, "Stop! There is no need to leave the table. We have paid the publican to close for the night, you are safe here, and you will receive no judgement from us. Enjoy yourselves openly, and with dignity."

The women did, and a wave of relief swept over them as their treat of choice quelled the internal fires that had been consuming them. Much rum and other alcohol was enjoyed by all. Truly, it was a night of merriment.

One of the women finally had the courage to ask, "May I see one of the gold coins you have?"

Albert laughed and handed her one. It was heavy, and old, minted in the 1800's. Along with the value of the gold, there was the value of a rare coin. She was holding a fortune in her hand.

"Where did you get all this?" she queried.

The room went silent. Albert's look turned serious as he said " 'Tis the Devil's Gold, my child. He keeps it all in Davy Jones Locker, and we are sailors of the Seven Seas!"

A moment of silence, then all seven sailors laughed lustily. The women joined in.

The woman holding the gold piece, accustomed to taking advantage of drunk sailors, hesitantly asked, "May I keep this as a memory of our night with you?"

The room again went silent. "You freely accept the Devil's Gold?" dramatically asked Albert.

The woman broke the silence with a quiet, "Yes, please."

The room erupted in lusty sailor laughter again, and the clinking of mugs of rum. The room went silent again. "Anyone else?" Albert canvassed the other six women.

All agreed in turn, and received their gifts. Again, lusty laughter from the sailors who stood unsteadily and drank a toast to their Benefactor, the Devil!

They resumed their seats and drinking, but one of the women bravely challenged them, "You're being a bit dramatic with the devil thing!"

The sailors, chastised, fell quiet like scolded school boys and Albert offered an apology, "We are sorry, ladies. We are simple sailors who have hard lives and have seen many things. On the open sea, we must laugh in the face of the Devil many times. Forgive us our poor humor and manners!"

Another of the women replied, "We understand, our dear companions. There is nothing to apologize for. It's just an uncomfortable topic any time, and especially on this particular night of the year. Please, forget this and let us return to our merriment, as you call it."

"Agreed," boomed Albert, "We are finished here, we must return to our ship for the next part of our deal. I apologize for my crude sailor language, but to make no mistake, it is time for you to suck and fuck us well before our ship departs."

One of the whores assured the small crew before them, "This is our trade. To thank you for your many gifts, we will indeed fuck and suck you as never before, and you will carry these fond memories for the next year until you return to our port!"

"Let us away then!" exalted Albert.

The fourteen of them made their way to a curious old sailing ship tied to a deserted pier identified "50". On the back of the ship was the name "Mary, something or other", it was too dark to see. Curious to see such a ship in this modern age, but these women were certainly not up on current events. Perhaps it was from a country that could not afford newer ships, or perhaps it was a response to the energy crisis. What was all this talk of wind energy?

No matter, the women were there to ply their trade, not to learn the latest in nautical news. They made their way below decks, and all quickly shed their clothes to attend to the matter at hand. There was no need for ceremony.

The woman and sailors paired off, and soon sucking and fucking commenced according to each man's particular need.

Sex was happening all over the deck. Many positions, many techniques, many pieces of furniture serving as supports for the women to lay on, or to be bent over. Even the deck played a role.

There was never a break in the action except to switch positions, or partners. This was a full on orgy, but much more intense than you might encounter at your local yacht club.

After a hour or so of this, each woman independently arrived at a thought. Although the activity was relentless, they were not getting tired as they might normally do. The more they were fucked, the more they felt invigorated. The sailors certainly had stamina. Hard men, hard lives, indeed!

Eventually, at various times, all the woman enjoyed orgasms. This is usually not worthy of mention at your average yacht club swinger orgy, but these women, ravaged by hard lives, rarely, if ever, achieved completion anymore.

One of the women, Cindy, was formerly a promising and popular college student who within a year found herself going from attending fraternity parties to servicing clients in a cheap brothel. The streets are cruel and quick.

Cindy paused between partners and stated, "I need some fresh air!" Before anyone could react, she was up the steps to the topside.

Maybe a minute passed before screaming started coming from there. The screaming went on unabated, so the other women, her friends, rushed up to help her. It all happened so quickly, they did not even take their clothes.

The sailors sadly looked at each other, dressed, grabbed the women's clothes, and joined them.

Now, all fourteen were topside, but in two separate groups facing each other. The ocean swells were making it difficult for the women to stand upright, but the sailors with their experienced sea-legs experienced no such difficulty.

They were at sea. Six of the women were screaming at this fact, horrified they were being abducted for some future in the foreign white slave trade. Cindy, who had started all of this, was screaming over and over,

"We're on the Mary Celeste, We're on the Mary Celeste!" It appears that she had seen the small plaque on the ship's great wheel.

The sailors watched this spectacle for a time before one of them said, "Enough, Albert. Get on with it."

Albert swept a fully extended arm, and the ocean calmed somewhat. Not entirely, but enough so that the women could stand. He swept his extended hand, palm facing the women, and their terror subsided. He had that power, but they were still in great fear.

"Please get dressed, you do not deserve the indignity of nudity," Albert entreated.

Now dressed, the two groups faced each other, the women fearfully looking at the group of solemn sailors.

"I know it is unwise to tell a woman to calm down. Fear and anger are products of the mind, and only you can control that. I just want to talk to you to help with that.

Yes, Cindy, we are on board the Mary Celeste. She is our ship, and a fine one indeed that has faithfully served us for many years," explained Albert.

Cindy, knowing the legend of the ship from her college years, had a crazy thought, so she verbalized it,

"Are we going to Hell? Is that why all the Devil talk?"

Panic started to rise. "Please, allow me to explain," Albert finally added,

"God and the Devil, Heaven and Hell, Angels and Demons, and any other terminology you want to use from any religion, do indeed exist. But everything you think you know is wrong, an invention of men seeking to control others. How can mere mortals know of such things?

The stories told about us are mutations of gossip from some of our more chatty mortal employees, like your brothel manager. When they finally join us, they get bad performance reviews indeed!

We do not concern ourselves with the babbling of earthly religions, we do not use any of that terminology where we come from, but for the purpose of this conversation I will use the words you are familiar with.

All your questions will be answered, but let me start first with Frequently Asked Questions, as you say today.

We are Demons from Hell, another realm you cannot understand. We were once ordinary men, the original crew of this ship some 154 years ago. We live in Hell, but we work on Earth.

Hell is not a fire-pit of eternal damnation, it is only the destination for those who do not meet the stringent requirements for Heaven. And trust me, you're wrong about all that too. Think of them as a gated community with an insane HOA. But, some folk prefer that I guess.

Yes, we get the evil people, and they suffer torments. But not from comic book devils. Their torments are delivered by their earthly victims, and some very very bad people have many tormentors waiting for them, with very imaginative ideas. This area of Hell is far removed from us ordinary folk. You will never see it, unless you want to visit someone who has harmed you. Really, I recommend you forget about all that.

You were already in your own personal Hell. You knew in your hearts that the choices you were making would cause your time on earth to be limited. The Grim Reaper was going to visit you all shortly.

She hates being called that, by the way. Anyway, Reaper deals in mass transit to deliver all souls eventually to one destination or another.

We are given the privilege to rescue some of you, and guide you more gently into the next realm. We've been around for many years, we know everything about your world. If I can use an analogy you might understand, we are your personal Uber, not a crowded subway."

Albert's gentle tone and explanations were having an effect on the women, causing them to indeed calm down.

He looked at Cindy and assured her, "Yes Cindy, there is love where we are going. So pure and complete, you cannot imagine."

Cindy looked at him with surprise, and he answered her next thought, "Because once I removed the terror, and you reduced the fear, I can read your minds. It comes in handy at poker games."

All the women and sailors laughed politely, and one of his crew thought, "Albert, you need new material!"

Albert turned to that crew-mate and openly spoke, "I know, but it's the first time they've heard it! "

He turned back to the women with their thoughts. Answering another he explained,

"No, eternity does not exist in our realm, but time flows differently for us. Your man Einstein was pondering the mechanics of the universe and time dilation and such, and he continues to do so with us. He's so happy with all the new facts and resources he has at his disposal. I don't know much about that, we're simple men who prefer to explore the beauty of the seas and nature. You can meet him if you like! "

Another woman, another thought.

"You will meet your loved ones who passed on, if they are with us. Some may have suffered the misfortune of Heaven," mused Albert. The sailors smiled.

Another thought, they were coming quickly now. Albert chuckled,

"Yes! We have your childhood dog! That's another piece of misinformation. All dogs in fact go to Hell! We even have Hitler's dog, she is such a good girl. They are all well loved and cared for.

I think the cats go to Heaven. Their aloof nature is more suited for that place."

The questions and answers went on and on until there wasn't much more to explain.

Albert swept his arm again, and the ocean became as still as a mirror, the full moon reflecting from it. The air was fresh. Everything was calm, including the women.

"We have a very fine night here off the archipelago of the Azores," marveled Albert.

He waved his extended hand again, "Now that your fear has sufficiently subsided, I can gift you this."

The women suddenly found themselves without pain, injury, scars, illness, addictions. Any of the abuses from their former lives. He had also given them deep peace, in a way they had never felt.

Albert continued, "I have restored your flesh and bone, but I cannot make you younger. But you are young and beautiful already, handpicked by our brothel manager for this special gift. However, we should replace those whores' rags you are still in."

Another wave of his hand, and they found themselves elegantly dressed and groomed in the manner of truly beautiful ladies of the 1800's. As they marveled at how each other looked, no-one was watching the sailors. When they did look at the men again, they had transformed into fine gentlemen of the same era.

They were the same men, only immaculately groomed and dressed. They did not display any of the ravages of their hard lives either.

The deck had transformed into a version of a fine garden party, or at least as much as one could manage on the deck of the ship. St. Elmo's Fire danced on all the masts and rigging.

Albert continued,

"If you recall, my first statement to you in that brothel was that we were seeking good companionship. That is not what we have done already, you should only consider it as your going away party from the true Hell you knew.

And to be truthful, it was fond memories of our time as mortal sailors. Shore Leaves from long ago.

We took advantage of each other, but with full intent and consent. We shall talk no more of it.

That was not the companionship we sought.

We wish to enjoy the company of fine ladies. You will find us excellent conversationalists on any topic you like, from your earthly realm, or the next. We've been around quite awhile.

We desire humanity.

We will enjoy the full dawn together, many hours from now, and then you will gently fall asleep. You will awake in Elysium with us by your side. We will be your teachers, guides, and companions until we are called away again on our next odyssey. The Seven Seas are our true love."

Three of the new gentlemen companions approached with large silver trays containing fine china, gold plated utensils, and sweet nibbles. "Shall we sit for tea?" Albert invited.

In the Captain's cabin, an unseen hand updated the ship's log,

"October 31, 2026. Brigantine Mary Celeste.

Departed, New York USA, Destination, Home Port.

Crew, Albert R., Andrew G., Edward H., Volkert L., Arian M., Boy L., Gotlieb G.

Cargo, Seven Souls."

Postscript

Annual Halloween Story Contest Entry 2026

The Mary Celeste was a famous mystery from 1872, but has been largely forgotten by the modern world.

She was a sailing ship found abandoned off the Azores, completely unmolested, but with no crew.

The author encourages you to Google the topic. And then perhaps re-read this story to find some Easter Eggs.

Hope you enjoyed my humble efforts. Don't forget to Vote, Like, and Subscribe! lol

Happy Halloween 2026!