Hey, Mad Lews, et al. I tried to find more of this seminal example of Hope’s work through an in depth search of the library archives. Unfortunately, with the move to the new server, most of the remaining story files were corrupted. It was impossible to recover any intelligible record of the Pirates of Baskerville.

However, I did a Google search and was lucky to get a few thousand hits. While most were just discussions of her egregious spelling errors and debates about the social utility of pornography, there was one exception. It seems that an excerpt is being used by PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) in their fundraising materials. I found that they were using the famous parrot scene that you mentioned. I’ve taken the liberty of reposting it here.

I do believe that they might have done some editing to the work, as it seems to be of higher quality than other things of hers that I have read. In any event, it is quite an extraordinary piece of writing.

*****
Samantha lay there, pinned to the ground by a pirate kneeling on her shoulders. She could hear the whimpering of the dogs from across the clearing where they had been tied to a rotten log. There were pirates on either side of her, holding her arms down and her legs open. Her clothes were in tatters and her nipples were diamond hard from the cold and her fear.

Her heart pounded erratically in her chest as she fought her captors. Samantha’s struggle for release was fruitless but her undulations against the soft turf of the moor was arousing to watch. She could see the cock of the man holding her shoulders straining at the cloth of his trousers.

Thump, scrape. Thump, scrape. Thump, scrape.

The tableau froze at the approaching sound.

Thump, scrape. Thump, scrape. Thump, scrape.

“Well, well, well. What have we here, me mateys?”

Frightened by the gravelly voice, Samantha peered past the bulge of man-meat to see a frightening sight standing between her wide spread legs.

A wild haired man, with arms akimbo, stared down at her. His filthy gray beard hung in tangled curls nearly to his waist. The green parrot on his shoulder bobbed its head and squawked, “Awk! Wanna screw that!”

“Please, please,” she begged. “I’ll do anything. Just let me go.”

“Anything, wench? Argh, that’s what I like to hear.” A deep laugh rumbled from his barrel chest. “Me boys and me, we were hoping for a wee bit of fun.”

Futilely, she tried to pull her limbs free. “This isn’t fun for me.”

“Oh, that’s because we haven’t started yet.” The pirate Captain stroked his beard. “Me thinks it’s Waldo’s turn to go first.”

“W…Waldo?”

The Captain waved at the parrot on his shoulder. “Aye, wench. Waldo is me parrot.”

“Wha…what is the parrot going to do?”

“Make sweet love to ya, of course.”

“That’s impossible.”

“You impugning me parrot’s virility?”

“What? No…but that’s insane!”

“What’s insane about not wanting sloppy seconds?” The Captain lightly fluffed the bird’s chest plumage. “Those less well endowed deserve a tight cunt, too, ya know.”

The bird squawked, “Waldo wanna fuck. Waldo wanna fuck.” Taking off from its perch on the man’s shoulder, the bird flew down and landed on the ground between her legs. With a little hop, it landed on her mons and plucked at her pubic hair with its sharp claws.

Samantha lifted her head and looked from the parrot to the pirate captain. “Get it away from me,” she cried.

Gripping her inner thighs with her talons, the bird squawked angrily. Its black eyes glittered in the low phosphorus glow of the swamp. Opening its wings to the full span, the bird flapped once and called out, “Shut up, slut!”

Jerking her hips, Samantha attempted to dislodge the creature.

With a squawk, it lunged forward and grabbed her clitoris in its beak.

Samantha shrieked in pain.

“I’d be staying quite still, if I were you. Parrots can crush walnut shells in their beaks. I’m sure ya don’t want to see the damage Waldo can do to yer love button.”

“Ouch! Please, make him let go.”

“Ask him yerself.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sure if you begged Waldo nicely, he might listen to yer plea.”

“Beg a bird?”

“Aye. Tell him you’ll want him to take yer virginity.”

“But I’m not a virgin!”

“So, you’ve had avian sex before?”

“Of course not!”

“Then, yer a virgin to Waldo here.”

For a moment, Samantha debated with herself. How could she debase herself so? When the bird adjusted it’s stance and bit even harder, she broke and started to beg. “Please, Waldo. Be gentle. Don’t hurt me and I’ll …” she gulped. “I’ll let you take my cherry.”

“Aye, that’ll be the ticket. See, Waldo likes his sluts to be willing.”

The bird released her clit and she almost sobbed in relief. Her joy was short lived as the bird moved into position between her legs. Flapping its wings, it squawked several times as its body rocked against her labia.

The feel of the feathers felt good as they rubbed on her tender clit. Still throbbing from the bite, Samantha could feel herself getting close to climax. Before she came, though, she felt a hot pulse against her vaginal opening.

She wept as the bird gave a final squawk and flew up to perch on the Captain’s shoulder. She was not as bothered by the bird fucking as she had feared. Instead, she was upset that she was not given enough stimulation to orgasm.

“Now, wench, thank Waldo.”

Swallowing back the bile that rose in her throat, Samantha whispered, “Thank you for the gift of your spending.”

“Good girl. Now, it’s my turn,” the Captain said as his hand went to his belt buckle.

Samantha nearly fainted as the large man’s pants dropped to his ankles.

*****

I’m afraid that is all that I could find of the story. Hope that it is enough to whet your appetite. Perhaps the resurgence of interest in her work will cause others to find copies on their personal hard drives and induce them to repost them in the interest of the public good.