Someone had taken a shit on the deck, and all you had was a broom and a mop.

Now, the Captain and the rest of the crew very much enjoyed torturing you, but really? They had left you a neat pile of bum nuggets to take care of while they snickered at you from their corners.

You sigh and poke at it with your broom. It's a hot day, so some of it sticks onto the tool. Gross, you think. This was going to be a real hassle.

"Miss! Excuse me Miss!" You turn to look at whoever is calling. It's a young man, about your age, with strawberry-blonde hair that met up as a tuft on top of his head. He has an attractive face with cherry cheeks, you notice as he smiles apologetically at you. "I'm very sorry," he says. "I'm positive it was my dog that made that mess."

You blink at him, because you've never met a boy so pretty in your entire life.

"Your... dog?" He shrugs.

"Y-yes. He's never usually like this, though." His eyes wander away from you. "There's just something about this ship..."

"...right." You clutch the broom in your hands, forgetting for a moment that it smells like dog crap.

"Yes but anyway!" He turns his attention back to you. "I'll clean it up for you. It is partly my fault."

"No!" You reply almost immediately. Then you blush because you spoke too fast. "You don't have to do that." The truth was, you couldn't let him do that. If the Captain found out, he'd have your breasts chopped off.

"But it's only the proper thing to do," the boy insists. "I wouldn't mind at all."

"But I would," you huff. "Please allow me. It's my job." His eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Well... if that's what you wish." And with that, he hesitantly leaves you to your duties. You let out a sigh, and take a quick glance to your left and right to see if your boss was watching.

...

The S. S. Pegasus is a cheap knock-off of the Unicorn, and somehow people from all over the world wanted to take a ride on it. Even the famous reporter, named Tintin or something, was somewhere on the boat. Not that you knew of him, or even cared. All you wanted was the big bag of gold that was promised to you when you agreed to take this job.

It wasn't fun, being a maid on the Pegasus. The captain always acted like there was a pole up his ass and there were no days off. There was only one other maid, but she only ever worked when Thomas The Sailor Boy was watching.

This month you had to work extra hard, because the Captain was preparing to present the mysterious item he had found on his last venture. He wanted to sell it to some rich folk that would pay him so much he'd be able to retire the next day. Then he'd pay you next, and that was the most important part.

Yeah, you thought to yourself as you swept the dining hall of the ship. This'll all be worth it. You start to hum a little, picturing yourself finally buying that ticket to Japan you were saving up for. You had promised yourself you'd live there someday, and finally witness those spring cherry blossoms everyone always talked about.

"Hmmm... hm hm hmm-"

"Ahem."

You open your eyes to see a boy, the only other person in the dining room. You recognize his face and hair and realize it's the boy from earlier who wouldn't leave you to your own devices.

"Do you need something?" you ask him.

"Ah, no, not really. But I do have something for you." He holds up a box. You stare at it curiously. Why would anyone get you a present?

"What is it?" you ask, suspicious. He shrugs.

"Open it and see."

For some reason you blush. It'd been a very long time since you last got an actual gift from someone. How nice.

You uncover the box to see a purple fruit.

"Wha-"

"Do you recognize it?" The boy crosses his arms, as if he was about to accuse you of something. "My dog has been a bit panicky lately, and when I asked him what it was about, he led me to the Captain's Quarters. Then I found this. Tell me- what fruit is that?"

Of course it wasn't a present. Stupid. Why would a guy this attractive get you- a lowly maid- something of significance?

But wait, what was he talking about? Did he think you knew about all this? You look down at the fruit in confusion, and you realize you've never seen anything quite like it. It seemed as if someone had gotten an orange, painted it purple, then added large leaves at the top. You had no idea what it was. Maybe it was one of those exotic fruits or something? How the hell were you supposed to know?

You look back up at the boy in front of you. He's waiting for an answer.

"Um," you say. "I'm afraid I haven't the slightest clue what this is. I also suggest you stop snooping around. The Captain hates that." You hand him back the box and assume that is all and you can return to your work. However, he doesn't leave.

"But I'm a reporter," he tells you. "My boss informed me that this suspicious boat was harboring secrets." You snort.

"The only 'secret' around here is the porn magazines the Captain occasionally leaves around."

"You're sure? Surely you'd know a thing or two, right?"

"Nope." You begin to sweep again. The boy sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

"What if I told you you'd get a reward?" You stop and take a glance at him. "My next mission is in Japan, and I have an extra ticket. I'm not sure if you'd be interested in a country like that, but-"

"Secrets you say?!" You drop the broom, smiling wide. "I must have not heard you properly! I know secrets! Lots and lots of secrets! Yours truly, Y/N, will tell you everything! What do you want to know, reporter?" He smiles in excitement.

"Call me Tintin. Do you think you could tell me anything about this fruit?"

You take the fruit and inspect it.

"Hmmm... Oh! Yup, I definitely recognize this..."

"Yes?"

"Yeah, it's a... Flavor Fruit! The Captain discovered it on the last trip. It's one of the yummiest fruits in the world." Tintin's eyes widened and he looks at the fruit.

"How many are out there?"

"Tons! We might even find more in Japan! Captain likes to pretend they're rare so people will pay him more." You were lying straight through your teeth, but who cared? This hot guy was going to give you a ticket to Japan, goddammit.

"Thank you! I might even try some myself." Tintin digs around his pocket. "Here," he says, handing you a sheet of paper. It's the ticket. To Japan.

You want to squeal.

But then you hear the Captain call your name from yards away and you have to leave. Perfect excuse to get out of there before Pretty Boy changes his mind.

When you get to the Captain, things are... weird. The Captain looks nervous.

He's never nervous.

"Y/N... have you seen a... box anywhere?" he asks you. He's sweating so much you swear you can see his beard dripping. Ew.

"No," you say calmly. Take that, Captain. This is my revenge for all those months of torture.

He groans and rubs his head.

"This is not good. Not good at all." He paces back and forth.

"Why?" you ask. Because you can't stand the fact you aren't getting a million gold coins? That's fine, I'm off to Japan either way.

"There was an aphrodisiac in there."

The blood drains from your face.

This was not happening.

"A-a sex drug?!"

"The strongest kind in the world. It's natural; straight from the fruit, Eroticia Melonua."

You remember Tintin. Didn't he say he was going to eat that?!

You feel like throwing up. You lied. And probably committed sexual harassment. You are a sick, selfish, awful human being.

Where was Tintin right now?

"We're lucky that only one of the fruits are gone." There were more? "But as you're cleaning today, I want you to look around for it. If you don't find it by the end of this week-"

"You'll have my breasts chopped off. I know." He glares at you.

"I will have them mounted on my fucking wall. Got it?"

"Yes, Captain."

...

This was awful. You had to leave the ship as soon as possible. The Captain would never accept a fruit that was already bitten out of, and there was no way to help poor Tintin.

You gather your bags together. You had made sure your suitcases were waterproof and floatable. You were pretty fit for a maid, from everything the Captain made you do. Surely you could swim to the shore.

Who were you kidding?

As you rushed to the emergency exit, someone suddenly grabs your arm. Fuck. You turn around frantically.

Luckily it isn't the captain.

It's Tintin, and he does not look okay.

He's blushing. Really hard. His eyebrows are contorted in a distressed expression, and that grip he has around your arm is really tight. Slightly panicked, your eyes dare to glance down between his legs.

Holy f-

He licks his bottom lip before speaking.

"I ate the fruit." You tear your eyes away to look back at his face. "Why is this happening to me?"

He was confused, and very desperate. You felt guilty.

"I... lied." You admit. "I didn't know what it was. But the Captain just told me, and apparently it's an aphrodisiac..." His eyes widen in horror.

"What? Why would you-" Suddenly his eyes shut tight. The hand that isn't keeping a death grip on your arm hits the wall near your head. You suddenly realize just how close he is to you. "Shit." His breathing becomes louder and so does your heartbeat.

"Uh..." You look around. Some people are looking at you. A mother covers her daughter's eyes from the scene. Two teenage girls point and giggle. "You need help. I'll take you to the medic-"

"No." he hissed. "I don't want anyone else to see me like this." You blush, because that implied that he only wanted you to see him all riled up. "This is all your fault. Take me to my room."

"Okay... But can you let me go first?"

"Oh. Sorry." He releases his grip, and blood returns to your arm. You take his arm and put it around your shoulder.

"What room?"

"Th-the Suite." He's heavy on your shoulders, but you're able to lug him there.

You fumble with his keys and it's very awkward because you're starting to realize that the thing poking your leg was not a giant pen he used when writing reports. You finally make it inside and drop him onto his bed. He moans turns his head to the side.

"It's too hot," he whines. You gulp. Should you...? "I'm sorry for being such a bother, but would you mind helping me remove my shirt?" Yup.

"Oh sure..." You curl your fingers under his shirt and pull up slowly. "I'm really sorry about all this." His shirt comes off, and you can see his chest rising and falling. His entire torso is shiny with sweat, especially his abs, which are tense from arousal.

Oh sweet Japanese cherry blossom trees

"It's okay." He looks up at you with half-lidded eyes. "I guess I do deserve it, from when Snowy had an accident and I didn't clean it up myself." As if on cue, the dog runs in from out of nowhere and begins to bark at you. He growls and pulls at your dress with his teeth.

You gasp. If Snowy didn't stop your dress would rip! In front of Tintin! That would make everything one hundred percent more awkward.

Your dress does not rip. Instead, you lose your balance and fall backwards. Into a pile of shit. The dog makes a satisfied sound like "this is all I wanted" and he runs into another room of the suite.

"Nice," you say, wrinkling you nose in disgust. Luckily, nothing got on your skin, but your dress was ruined.

Because of your "maid instinct" you suddenly have the urge to clean up the mess on the ground. You look over to Tintin to see if he needs anything.

He's whimpering, eyes closed. He squirms around the bed, palming at his pants and biting into a pillow.

You immediately leave to the restroom to get cleaning supplies. When you see how red your face is in the mirror, you scowl at your reflection.

"You fucking pervert."

You come back and ignore Tintin, cleaning up the mess.

Bag. Wrap. Spray. Wipe. To you, it's routine. A great way to keep your mind off what's going on behind you.

"D-don't just clean!" Suddenly he's being vocal. "This is so em- mm- embarrassing. And here you are, c-cleaning... like it's normal."

"What do you want me to do?" you almost shout.

"Water would be nice!" he replies. You mutter and go to the kitchen for a glass of water. You come back and hand it to him.

"Here."

"Thank you." He takes the glass but doesn't drink it, not at first. He just starts pouring the liquid on himself- on his face and chest and abs. Then he gulps down the remaining liquid and sighs. But then he huffs air through his nostrils. "It isn't w-working! And it's starting to hurt." You look down at the tent- wait not tent, but at least a two-story household- that is in between his legs.

"Maybe you should... you know."

"Yeah, I know... is that okay?" You nod. This was definitely okay. He fumbles at his zipper and unzips his pants, then sighs.

He turns to you.

"T-Take off your dress." Heat rushes to your ears.

"What?!" No no no no

"It's stained. Is-mm-isn't it a little gross? Wearing that?"

"Oh." Dummy. Of course he wouldn't...

"You... *pant* don't have to do it in front of me. Unless you want to." Then, as if he suddenly realized what he was saying, he blushes even harder. "I... didn't mean it like that. It's the fruit. God, when will this die down? This is so embarrassing. You must think I'm disgusting."

"No I don't." I'm the disgusting one. "It's alright. I know you're not a pervert, Tintin." You turn around to face the wall and start to remove your dress.

"Please don't," he rasps. "I am a very big pervert. Especially now."

"Tintin, it's okay."

"Fuck."

The dress slips down. You have a camisole underneath, so you're not revealing too much. You turn back around to say, "see, I even have something on underneath", but Tintin is no longer on the bed.

You feel warm hands wrap around your waist and slip under your cami. Tintin's fingers slip underneath. He feels you up to the breasts Captain wanted to chop off and hang on the wall, and you can feel his breath behind your ear.

"I want to have sex with you." Goosebumps run up your arms. Should you?

Well, he did give you a ticket to Japan.

You're both on the bed, and Tintin kisses you furiously. He grinds down into you through his underwear and kisses your neck and collarbone. One hand grips your ass, and the other rips your camisole down the middle.

This was actually happening.

Tintin was losing himself. He takes what's left of the ripped clothing and ties your hands together, then ties them to one of the poles of the bed.

"T-Tintin..."

He shushes you, then slowly gets off the bed. He walks away. You frown. What the fuck? Extremely annoyed, you shout a "hey", but he doesn't come until two minutes later.

"We needed lube. I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

Tintin pulls out what was hiding in his underwear and your kind of glad that he went to find something to make it smoother. Maybe it was the fruit. Maybe it was him. But how on earth did he manage to hide something so large in his pants?

He pulls down your your panties and even though this entire thing is already erotic you cover your face with an arm.

"Look at me," he says. "You're so pretty." That only makes you want to cover your face more, but you do as he says. He takes one of your legs and places it over his shoulder and pushes in.

"Ah!"

"Fuck." He stills himself and breathes deeply. "You okay?"

"Yes," you gasp. "Please keep going." He immediately pulls back, and pushes back in. Maybe it was the fruit and you were getting secondhand affects, or maybe Tintin just felt that good, but this felt so much more amazing than you expected.

Tintin's face was insanely hot right now. You could take a picture. He was panting, his eyebrows were serious and you could see how much he wanted it- and you were completely at his mercy.

But then he stops. He stops but you're too worn out to notice at first.

"This is wrong." he says. You're pissed. This is no time to be getting all righteous right now. "This will be much easier if I do this." He removes your tied hands from the bed pole, them moves you onto his lap. Your hands are around his neck now. Oh. This was a different position. A closer position. Now you could feel his chest up against yours as you were bounced up and down on him.

Gasps, moans, and the sound of skin slapping against skin were the only sounds in the otherwise quiet room.

"Y/N, is it okay if... if I..."

"Yes," you reply. "God, just do it. I'm going to too."

You come at the same time, and it's like warm milk running through your veins and buzzing bees in your toes.

You're both panting, relaxing against each other.

"I'm- sorry." you say again.

"It's fine." Tintin assures. "But there's still just one problem..."

"Hm?"

"It's looks like that still wasn't enough to wear down the fruit." He smiles sheepishly.

And neither of you slept that night.