Rating : NC-17
Warnings: slash, D/s, F/m/m, pirate fic
Summary: The HMS Minerva was attacked on the high seas. William is taken prisoner by Captain Jenkins, the Vengeful and her handsome, but deadly, first mate, Mr. Harris.
Many thanks to vikingprincess for her invaluable assistance and encouragement
The Cabin Boy
William awoke in the darkness, his head aching fiercely. And while the briny scent in the air was familiar, it was overlaid by the stench of too many bodies in a small space. This surely wasn’t his cabin. He lifted his hands to his head and felt the heavy chains about his wrists pull taut. Then he remembered the attack.
The HMS Minerva had been commissioned by his firm to ferry himself and half the accounting staff to the West Indies. They’d needed experienced staff to straighten out the books for the companies holdings in the region. It was supposed to be a brief excursion, just under a year.
They’d been issued warnings before leaving England about how these waters could be dangerous, but no one had genuinely been worried. Captain Giles had had decades of experience on the high seas, and a stellar reputation for destroying any pirate scum who had attempted to board his vessel. His luck, it seemed, had finally run out. The Laissez-Faire had come out of the early morning fog, her sails black as death, a Jolly Rodger flying high. The battle had been short but brutal, the pirates outnumbered the crew three to one, and they’d been forced to surrender.
Once the white flag had been raised, the surviving passengers had been herded across a thin gang plank to the Laissez-Faire, and then driven below deck into the bowels of the ship. Before his descent William had glanced backward to the deck of the Minnie. The remainder of the officers and crew had been lined up on deck on their knees. Captain Giles, at the front of the line, his hands crossed behind his head but his chin raised high. Then William had been struck on the head for not moving swiftly enough and things had gone dark.
He was unaccustomed to being in such close proximity to other people, and tried in vain to carve a space for himself in the room. Seventeen persons were stuffed into a place not fit for two to rest comfortably. But each time he drew away, he struck another body or unforgiving wood, reminders of his desperate predicament.
No one spoke. They hadn’t been offered any food or water. Hours passed, punctuated by the sounds of the sea, creaking wood, and heavy footsteps lifting and dragging the spoils from the Minnie’s stores. The pirates were looting their ship, stripping anything and everything of value from her before they set her adrift.
Suddenly, the door flew open and William squinted against the light. A tall pirate, with a patch over one eye, entered the room carrying a lantern. He was flanked by two unsavory shipmates.
William’s supervisor, a paunchy, cold man, named Quentin Travers pushed his way to the front, filled with righteous indignation. “I demand you tell me…”
The pirate lashed out without a word, backhanding Travers. William spotted a trickle of blood spilling from the fresh cut on his lip.
“Anyone else have demands?” he asked.
William shook his head, as did most of the other’s he knew from the firm. The one-eyed pirate smirked.
“Now…let’s see if we can’t find what I’m looking for.”
“Mr. Harris, Sir, what about this one?” William drew back as one of the pirates pulled young Andrew into the light.
Stepping up to the boy, he held up the lantern. Mr. Harris studied the lad curiously. His companion took this as a good sign, and began turning the boy’s head harshly this way and that, allowing Harris further inspection.
William felt his cheeks flush at the intimate perusal. Then his stomach clenched. What was he thinking? Whatever intentions that this pirate had, it would not bode well for the person he selected. And Andrew was so young. He hadn’t been with the firm very long.
Without examining what he was doing, William raised his voice and stammered, “L-leave him alone. He’s just a boy.”
One brown eye glittered in the low lamp light. Then his hand traveled down Andrew’s body, cupping him between his legs. Andrew whimpered, but Harris ignored it. “He feel’s like a man to me.”
William’s stomach rolled sickly. Then, unexpectedly, Harris pushed Andrew away, coming close to William. The rest of the prisoners withdrew, giving William the open space he’d craved for so long. Now he wished desperately for them to return.
“What about you?” Harris asked him. “Are you a boy? Or a man?”
“I’m a m-man,” William said.
William flinched when the man reached out to stroke his face, and the pirate grinned. It wasn’t a cold smile, but it wasn’t kind either, and William was inexplicitly struck by a sense of familiarity.
Head down, studying his departure papers, William didn’t see the man he crashed into until it was too late.
“Pardon me, sir,” William apologized. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He was well dressed, almost like a statesmen. His hair was neatly tied back with a black ribbon, and he was wearing a worn, but neat, leather patch covering one eye, the other was a warm brown.
“Are you lost?” the stranger inquired, peering at the now-wrinkled papers in William's hand.
Embarrassment about his poor sense of direction filled him. “I’m sure I can find my way,” William mumbled.
The stranger’s fingers closed around William’s and he turned the page toward him. “I’m pretty familiar with the dock.”
It was a simple touch, but it was like sparks traveled between them and William’s heart quickened. “Number f-fourteen. The Minerva.”
“You’re on the right path. It’s not far, four slips down.” Surely that wasn’t reluctance that crossed the stranger's face as he released William’s hand.
“Who are you?” William asked boldly, feeling the tips of his ears burn.
“Just a wanderer.” A smile curled on the other man’s lips. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t kind either.
William’s eyes were drawn briefly to the soft swell of his bottom lip, and he remembered the feel of calloused hands on his. “I-I must be going. T-thank you for your assistance,”
The smile widened and became one of genuine mirth. “Glad I could help.”
“G-good bye,” William stammered and rushed away before the man could see the heat blooming in his cheeks. Men did not have such thoughts about other men.
“What’s your name, prisoner?”
Swallowing thickly, he whispered, “W-William.”
Mr. Harris lifted the lantern higher. This was the first time he’d been in such close proximity to a pirate, and was surprised to find the man was clean and well groomed. Harris took another step closer, and now their chests were touching. Heat from the lantern warmed his cheeks and Harris’ wide shoulders consumed his view. Instinctively, William knew he had moved closer so no one else could see what was going on. Their eyes met and Harris’ large hand traveled southwards. He gently cupped William’s sex and squeezed applying gentle rhythmic pressure. Shame flooded William, as his sinful body reacted.
“Such a treat,” Harris whispered, so low, William could barely hear, and a slow smile crossed his face briefly.
Then he stepped away, and his voice and face were impassive once again. “Bring William up to the Captain’s cabin,” he said loudly “He needs to learn not to speak out of turn.”
William was released from his irons, only to be immediately tethered by a worn piece of leather.
No one met his eyes as he was dragged out of the brig. Men he’d worked with all his life lowered their heads or studied the ceilings. Travers alone spared him a gaze, and it was contemptuous, as if he could read Williams mind and see the shameful pictures there.
His captors were brutal, pulling him along by the makeshift leash, laughing as he stumbled and fumbled to keep up. William was exhausted and shaking when they arrived at the door to the captain’s cabin.
They pounded on the door.
A sharp, “Enter,” was the terse reply.
“Sounds like she’s in a foul mood,” the brigand on his left muttered. “Sure wouldn’t want to be you, pretty boy.”
He pulled the door open and William was shoved inside.
The cabin was enormous by seafaring standards, four times the size of the cabin he’d been issued on the Minerva. Heavy cupboards lined the walls, each carefully latched to prevent their contents from spilling. The captain’s desk was directly in front of him, and there was a long, low table with a matching chair to his left. He spied a door in the far corner, and presumed the captain’s private quarters were beyond. The floor was covered in an expensive, but familiar Turkish rug. Sickly, William realized it was one he’d seen on the Minerva.
The captain stood in the center of the room and Mr. Harris was to her right. William recalled the sailors on the Minerva fearfully speaking of her in hushed tones, Captain Jenkins the Vengeful, a she-demon of the high seas. For someone of such tiny stature, she was imposing, her gaze was strong and clear, holding none of the timidity he associated with most women. Her outfit mimicked those he’d seen on many of the brigands: a long, loose white shirt, cinched at the waist by her sword belt, and tight black breeches. On her, however, the ensemble looked both functional and feminine.
She eyed him speculatively, almost intimately, and William flushed as he was reminded of the way Mr. Harris had perused him in the brig.
“Captain, Ma’am,” one of his guard began respectfully; he’d removed his hat and was picking at the brim nervously. “We brought him like we was supposed to.”
“This is William, Mistress Anya,” Mr. Harris supplied. “He took offense to my examination of one of the prisoners.”
The Captain leaned casually against her desk, arms folded, studying him. Her eyes flicked to his guards. “Leave us.”
William’s heart skipped a beat as the two swiftly and fearfully scuttled out. He was alone with two of the most dangerous pirates in the Seven Seas.
“My authority on this ship is absolute, William,” the Captain informed him, sounding not-quite annoyed, “You understand that being a woman leaves me vulnerable, and that’s something I can’t have.”
“I’m s-sorry, Ma’am.” William swallowed thickly. “But…Andrew is just a boy.”
“Andrew doesn’t interest me,” she replied tersely. “Nor do your excuses for disrespecting my first mate.”
He looked at Mr. Harris, bowing his head in apology. “I’m sorry.”
Harris’ lips turned up in a small smile, but he didn’t speak.
“It is customary for an infraction of this nature to earn you three lashes.” A long, elegantly tapered finger pointed to Mr. Harris.
Eyes widening, William saw the heavy coil of a leather whip affixed to his waist. Immediately, he felt all the blood drain from his face. It was a curious and terrifying sensation. His heart felt like it both slowed and sped up and his pulse pounded heavily in his ears.
“However,” Captain Jenkins continued, “This excursion has been profitable. Very profitable, and I find myself in a very forgiving mood. Xander, you may release him.”
Relief, it seemed, had no bounds.
Mr. Harris, Xander, loosed his bonds, calloused fingers lingering much longer than necessary. “Better?”
William’s heart was pounding now for an entirely different reason. “Yes,” he whispered.
“Would you like some wine?” The first mate pointed to a rough-hewn skin on the captain’s desk and a heavy flagon. “I would offer you water, but it’s in scarce supply.”
At the mention of water, William suddenly realized how parched he was. “Thank you.”
The wine on the Minerva was more like vinegar and nearly unpalatable, and he expected the same here. This was smooth, however, and very pleasant. He was so thirsty he drank the flagon, and a second in record time.
Thirst finally slaked, he passed the cup back to Mr. Harris, who placed it, and the wine-skin back on the Captain’s desk. “Thank you,” he said again.
“I’m glad I could help,” Mr. Harris replied.
William’s jaw dropped. “That was you, on the pier. You directed me to my ship.”
Xander smirked, his hands sliding around the captain’s waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder. “I wondered if you would remember me.”
“We’ve tracked you for weeks,” the captain said.
“You followed the Minerva…looking for…me?” he asked, incredulously. “Why?”
“We’re pirates,” the captain said simply. “We take what we want.”
To illustrate her point, Xander tugged at the Captain’s loose blouse, sliding the thin fabric off her shoulders until her chest was bared. William’s cheeks grew hot, but he was unable to look away as Xander kissed her passionately, his rough hands stroking her breasts. A soft sigh escaped her lips.
The two of them were beautiful together, and William felt his sex stirring. He tried to avert his eyes, but they returned to the scene unfolding in front of him of their own volition.
“That was nice,” she whispered when they parted.
“I live to please you, Ma’am,” replied Xander, with deep sincerity in his voice.
“Would you like to join us, William?” she asked, her voice very nearly a purr. “My quarters are much more comfortable than the brig.”
William flushed. Surely he’d misheard. But they both looked at him, expectantly. “I-I don’t know what you’re asking.”
Xander stepped forward. William was frozen to the spot, unable to move. The man pressed his lips to William's, giving him a firm, sensual kiss. “Come with us.”
William was suddenly certain that the offer was not merely to join them in their bed. “Wallowing in carnal pleasure is a sin.”
“Not on this ship.” Xander’s hands ghosted over William’s body. Barely touching him, but inflaming his passions. “My captain likes to watch me bed beautiful, willing, young men. And you are beautiful, William. We’ve crossed half the ocean for you.”
“I’m not w-willing,” he stammered, but the words felt like a lie.
“You will be, by the time I’m through with you.” The soft gentle kisses he dotted across William's face were in stark contrast to his next words. “Or I could take you by force.”
“Please don’t.” William knew that these were the right words…the ones he should say, but again they felt strangely foreign on his lips. He felt certain that Mr. Harris was quite talented, no stranger in regards to the arts of pleasure. He knew he should continue to protest, but suddenly he felt over-warm and his thoughts became fuzzy. “That wasn’t wine,” he blurted out.
Harris smiled wickedly. “Sure it was. Plus something extra we picked up in Borneo. It takes away your fear and makes it easier to say yes. But only if that’s what you want.”
Before William could form the words to reply, Xander kissed him soundly, his mouth opening and his tongue brushing against William’s. This was so wrong, but William couldn’t find it in him any longer to object. Calloused fingers loosed the leather tie that bound his hair and began stroking the bare back of his neck. “Join us, William,” Xander murmured. “You won’t regret it.”
And the captain was there. Her shirt was still in disarray, her beautiful breasts exposed. Her eyes glittered, and she leaned up, pressing her lips to his. William had only been with one other woman, a sharp tongued tart he’d paid on his one foray to the shadier side of town. Anya was nothing like her, she was demanding, but soft. William sighed and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. With his other hand, he cupped her breast, flushing with pleasure as she murmured in approval.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bright as she pulled away. Then she smiled. “You’ve chosen well, Xander.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
The bed seemed as large as the room in the belly of the ship he’d woken up in a lifetime ago.
Xander stripped off his clothes, and William followed suit. He should have been ashamed to be nude in front of two strangers, his sex jutting proudly from between his legs, but he wasn’t. It was more than the substance they’d put in his wine, this was what he wanted. Fevered, lustful thoughts had occupied his mind since he’d grown into a man, but he’d been unable to act on them, bound by the constraints of a society which condemned then. Not so here.
“So pretty,” Xander whispered, kneeling before him.
William shuddered. He’d longed to pay the whore to put her mouth on him, and had surely had enough coin for the service, but found himself unable to find the proper words for his request. With Xander, he didn’t need to speak at all. His hands fell upon Xander’s shoulders in an effort to remain standing, trembling as the warm mouth moved slickly up and down his shaft, tongue curling, stroking, rubbing flicking in the most wonderful ways. Too soon, his sac drew tight against his body and William cried out sharply, unable to withhold his release.
He was shaking when Xander released his prick, licking his lips contentedly. “Time for round two. Your Mistress is waiting for you.”
Anya had shed her clothing and was lounging at the head of the bed. The soft brown curls at the apex of her thighs glittered wetly and she beckoned him closer. “Pleasure me, William,” she murmured, parting her thighs.
His cheeks felt hot, as he knelt on the bed and joined her. “I’ve never…” he whispered apprehensively.
She stroked his cheek kindly. “You’ll figure it out.”
Still apprehensive, he lowered his head, nuzzling her sex. Her musky scent surrounded him as he tasted her for the first time. Anya wove her fingers in his hair, both holding him in place and using her grip to guide him. With giddy pleasure he felt his cock begin to swell once again, spurred on by the soft moans and sighs the captain was making due to his ministrations.
He faltered when he felt Xander’s warm hands on his backside. Anya’s grip tightened, holding him in place. He tried to concentrate on his task, but stopped again as his nether-cheeks were prised apart. This time she loosed her hold on him, and William looked over his shoulder, eyes watching Xander warily. “Please. Don’t,” he whispered.
“I’m not going to hurt you, William,” he said, his voice thick and husky. “Just relax.”
“I don’t know if I can…”
“You can,” Xander replied confidently. William whimpered as slick fingers brushed over his tight pucker. “I know you’ve thought about this - late at night, in the darkness, when you were alone.”
He wanted to lie so badly, but the words wouldn’t come. William trembled silently.
The fingers became more insistent, pressing rhythmically against his sensitive entrance. “Trust me,” Xander whispered. “Please.”
William’s shoulders slumped in acquiescence, and he nodded. “All right,” he whispered.
Gentle triumphant kisses peppered his back and thighs. “Relax. I’ll be good to you.”
Xander’s thick finger breeched his hole, coated in a cool, greasy substance. William tried not to tense and fight the intrusion. Xander was gentle as promised, and William found himself able to relax. A second and third finger slid inside him, joining the first. Then Xander’s fingers brushed against something inside and lightening sizzled across William’s nerves. He thrust back, trying to take the fingers deeper inside.
“That’s it, baby,” Xander murmured. “Time for the show.”
William felt the blunt head of Xander’s prick at his entrance. Xander gripped William’s hips and pressed forward, into the slick channel he’d prepared.
A low moan issued from Anya, and William looked up at her. Her eyes were hooded, locked on where the two of them were joined.
William dipped his head down and tasted her sex once again. Anya’s thighs parted further and she arched up to meet him, hands once again threading in his hair. She held him in place as she sought her pleasure, just as Xander held him in place and took his own. William succumbed, relaxing and letting himself be taken, used. It was bliss.
Once spent, the three nestled closely together. Soft hands whispered against skin in intimate places. William explored the others as he was explored. His bedmates were as insatiable as he was.
“You’ll make a lovely pirate, William,” Anya murmured, her lips brushing his throat. Then he felt them turn down into a frown. “You will have to change your name, however.”
“What about William the Bloody?” Xander offered, and then his hand slithered down between William’s legs, stroking his engorged shaft. “Or, maybe Spike?”
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