Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1070597.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Hetalia:_Axis_Powers
  Relationship:
      America_(Hetalia)/England_(Hetalia)
  Character:
      America_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), England_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Alternate_Universe_-_Pirate, Forced_Crossdressing,
      Humiliation, Whipping, Gangbang
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-12-05 Updated: 2017-06-11 Chapters: 12/? Words: 119862
****** Arthur: Conqueror of the Deep ******
by BeatriceTheGolden, Klei
Summary
     Pirate Arthur one day happens across a puritan boy named Alfred and
     decides he wants to keep Alfred for himself, bringing the boy onto
     his ship and making him his new wife.
Notes
     A new rp from Klei and I. We've been working on this one for awhile
     now and we like it so much we figured we might as well upload it.
     Lots of warnings so be warned: noncon, underage (not shota, Alfred is
     a teenager), crossdressing, gangbangs, whipping, death (of pirate
     OCs), historical inaccuracy and more. Individual chapters will have
     their own warnings for what's in them. - bea
***** Chapter 1 *****
Arthur knew from the moment he saw him who would be warming his bed that night.
 
It was a lovely afternoon, the sun bleeding red over the horizon. The same
color that would soon taint the many crops of the poor colonials, too isolated
and holier-than-thou to properly fight back. Scouting ahead was merely a
precaution, really; he couldn’t afford to get into the habit of letting his
guard down. It went without a doubt that his crew could neutralize a tiny
Puritan village in minutes. It was almost TOO easy, really. Ordinarily they
went for bigger prey, seeing as there was so little of value to be found in
such a place, but the men were in the mood to ravage some wenches, and he
himself yearned for someone to toy with for a little bit. Everyone needed a
change of pace every once in awhile. Even a pirate.
 
That in mind, he hadn’t initially envisioned that he would lust after a young
man, strapping as he was. Oh, he’d certainly experienced it all - Heaven was
already closed off to him - but right then, he couldn’t help but notice that
his desire was a bit stronger than usual. There was something about him that
made him so appetizing a target.
 
“Excuse me, lad,” he said in his most saccharine voice, the accent perhaps
making his mainland origin a bit more obvious than he would have liked. He
leaned over the fence between them and smiled. “I don’t suppose you happen to
know the way to the nearest port?”
 
Alfred was busy outside, tending to the fields that his family owned as he
heard an unfamiliar voice. Turning around he saw a man leaning onto the fence
surrounding his family’s farm. It was no one he recognized and upon hearing his
question knew the man must be from somewhere else outside his village.
 
“If you head straight that way,” Alfred said, pointing to the east, “And just
keep going you should reach it. It’s not too far from here,” The man looked
like he had just stepped off of a ship though, but Alfred wouldn’t question it.
After all it wasn’t like he really knew much outside of his simple Puritan
life.
 
“Many thanks,” said Arthur, reaching behind him in the most casual of manners.
“I fear that my crew and I may have gotten a bit turned around. This place
isn’t at all like the mainland, you see. Everything is so much further apart.
So very… Isolated.” He began to stand up straight, as though he were about to
leave.
 
Alfred became interested at hearing the man was part of a crew. Could he be a
pirate? Surely not, he seemed so nice after all. “Oh, you get to sail the
ocean? That sounds so fun!” Alfred said, sounding rather excited about it. He’d
always been interested in such things but his parents had always made sure he
knew such things were a sin. “What’s it like?”
 
Arthur chuckled, his hands closing around the gun. “Oh, it depends on the
weather, really. Some days are better than others. I don’t suppose you’d like
to see for yourself?” In less than a second, the flintlock pistol that he’d
stowed away behind him was aimed right between Alfred’s curious blue eyes. “Not
that you have a choice.”
 
Alfred barely had anytime to react as the pistol was raised and pointed right
at his face. “Wh-What?” he asked, taking a few steps back but not daring to
take his eyes off of the gun. He could feel his heartbeat speeding up, his
chest pounding as the pirates words repeated itself in his mind, the boy trying
to understand what exactly was going to happen.
 
“I can see that you aren’t very intelligent,” said Arthur, a sinister smirk
tugging at his lips. “So I’m going to make this as simple as I can. You’re
going to come with me, or you’re going to die.” As if on cue, dozens of burly
men swarmed out of the nearby forest, guns in hand. The sweet sound of screams
began filling the silence. Really, they ought to have been thanking him. It was
probably the most interesting thing to happen in their village in generations.
“Any questions?”
 
Before Alfred could even answer he was screaming, hearing gunshots and watching
as his village was suddenly attacked. He was worried. Would his parents and
brother be okay? He wanted to check on them, try and run off with them but he
couldn’t do anything with the pistol pointed at his face. “Wh-Why do I have to
come with you?”
 
“Because I’m the captain, and I said so,” answered Arthur flatly. He jerked the
pistol towards the fence a few times without ever moving it far enough away to
give Alfred an opening to run. “Or would you prefer to be sent to meet your
maker?” Although he was a patient man, he had better things to do than wait for
Alfred to get the message. “If your own life isn’t motivation enough, how about
this? If you don’t come with me, I will personally see to it that your entire
family dies. Slowly.”
 
Tears began to fall down Alfred’s cheeks as he heard that threat. “I-I’ll come,
just don’t kill my family!” he sobbed, reaching up to wipe a few tears away
with his hands. There was no way he could let his family die, he’d readily
sacrifice himself for their lives.
 
Arthur beckoned for him to follow, his smile returning. “There’s a good lad.
I’ll tell them to spare this house, then, shall I?” Well, of death, anyway. He
pointed to the house in the distance that Alfred apparently resided in and made
a waving motion with his hand at one of his men, indicating that the residents
weren’t to be killed. He was nothing if not a man of his word. Anything short
of that was still fair game, though. “Come along. I don’t have all day.” In the
distance, houses and crops alike burned.
 
Alfred looked around, watching a his neighbors had their places burnt down,
wishing he could somehow help everyone. Nodding he opened up the gate on their
fence, stepping out and walking up to Arthur. “What are you going to do with
me?” he asked, having no idea why a pirate would want to kidnap him of all
people.
 
Such a clueless look on his pretty little face. It was quite endearing, if
rather pathetic. “I certainly didn’t single you out for your brain,” he mused,
getting around behind Alfred to press the gun to his back. “Off through the
woods, then. We’ve little use for harbours.”
 
Alfred flinched as he felt the gun against his back, nodding as he slowly began
to walk in direction of the forest. “Wh-Why there?” he asked, wishing the
pirate would have answered his question.
 
“Because there’s a magical unicorn living there that will grant us three wishes
if we placate it with a human sacrifice,” answered Arthur sarcastically. It was
clear the lad wasn’t very bright, but to think he was that slow… “The ship is
on the other side, you idiot.”
 
Alfred didn’t much appreciate being made fun of but kept quiet for now, knowing
it would be rather stupid to talk back when there was a gun pressed against
him. He continued walking with the other, leading him now into the small
forest.
 
The trip wasn’t particularly long, and thankfully, it was made in relative
silence. Well, silence aside from the terrible screaming and gunshots. As they
reached the other side, the ocean came into view, and with it, one of the many
little boats to ferry them out to the actual ship sitting out in the open
ocean. It was a modest-looking vessel, perhaps, but that was because it was
built for functionality, not form.
 
“There she is,” said Arthur, pushing Alfred towards the little dinghy where a
few of his men stood, guarding the area and ready to ferry his crew back and
forth.
 
Now that they were actually at the harbor Alfred was starting to get scared
again, fresh tears running down his cheeks as he pushed towards the small boat.
“Wh-What are you gonna do with me?” he asked, assuming he’d be kept as a slave,
forced to work on the ship.
 
“Let’s just say that the maker isn’t looking out for you right now,” answered
Arthur coolly, shoving Alfred into the boat and climbing in after him. Another
man began to row, a look of mild amusement on his face. “You’ll be serving my
men and I on board the ship for the rest of your days. Well, I suppose we might
let you off in a few decades, when you grow useless, or I decide to retire.
Whichever comes first.” He preferred younger partners.
 
“L-Like some slave?” Alfred asked, wondering what the other meant by serving?
Was he to be cleaning? Or cooking? He wished the pirate would be less vague
about it. Decades sounded way too long though, Alfred having to wipe more tears
from his cheeks.
 
Arthur laughed and slung his arm over Alfred’s shoulder, the gun still pointed
at his head with his other hand. “You poor, sheltered little thing. A close
enough guess, I suppose. I promise, my little lamb, that you will come to enjoy
your new job. Certainly, it will not be without some pain, but you’ll find
yourself far more immersed in pleasures of the flesh than that tiny little
village would have ever allowed.” It was ever so fun to mess with the heads of
Alfred’s kind. The damn Catholics would have been just as horrified - well,
they would pretend to be, anyway - but at least they might still feel like they
could redeem themselves with one of their silly little indulgences. He couldn’t
wait to see his new little pet break down beneath him. “You’ll thank me
eventually, when you come to see what you’ve been missing.”
 
Pleasures of the flesh? Alfred thought he had an idea of what the pirate meant
but it seemed too ridiculous to be true. Surely the pirate was just messing
with his head, trying to scare him even more. He flinched as the other draped
an arm around him, not liking the closeness between the two of them. Maybe he'd
find a way to escape, surely he could somehow.
 
Arthur didn’t release him. At least, not until they reached the ship, by which
point he knew there would be some climbing to get up on deck. “Go on, up the
rope,” he ordered, letting go while still keeping the gun pointed at him at all
times. “And don’t even think about trying to get away when you reach the top,
or my men will open fire.” There were only a few still on deck, keeping watch
while the majority of the crew engaged themselves in the raid. That said, they
were still much more heavily armed than Alfred, whose only weapon had been a
rusty sickle.
 
Alfred climbed on up onto the ship, having a bit of trouble with the rope but
not too much. As soon as he boarded the ship everyone was staring at him,
probably unaware that their captain was planning to bring someone back.
 
Arthur climbed up over the side shortly after him, gesturing for his
understandably concerned crew to stand down. “Stay by my side if you don’t wish
to die, my little lamb,” warned Arthur, shoving him off in the direction of the
stern, where the captain’s quarters were located. “One wrong move, and you’ll
be riddled with lead.” It was so much less fun to bed a corpse than it was an
actual, living person. He knew there were those who enjoyed it, but he quite
liked the sound of their futile pleading.
 
Alfred let the pirate push him, knowing fighting back was useless, especially
considering he was surrounded by men much larger than him who were carrying
weapons. "Wh-where are we going?" he asked, wondering what the pirate was
really keeping him for.
 
“Keep walking, and you’ll find out,” said Arthur curtly. He almost felt sorry
for the poor thing, who didn’t seem to have any sort of an idea as to what
awaited him despite the hints that he’d so graciously bestowed upon him. A few
members of the crew who understood what was happening either chuckled or rolled
their eyes. The eye-rollers were, of course, very quick to change their tune
when he shot glares in their direction; there was a reason he was captain, and
he wasn’t about to let them forget that.
 
Alfred had to wonder why so many were laughing at him, the two of them finally
reaching where Arthur's quarters were. He was so confused, having a very vague
idea of what the pirate might be planning but telling himself that couldn't be
true.
 
“Inside,” said Arthur, opening the door for him as any true gentleman would. It
was a bit tight, perhaps, but it was enough. With a little rope, he would
successfully conquer the young man as he had so many in the past. “You know, it
just occurred to me that I never got your name. Although it doesn’t
particularly matter, as I shall not deign to use it, I can’t help but be a
little curious.”
 
"Alfred," Alfred responded, wondering what the man planned on calling him if
not his own name. What did Arthur want with him in here? To clean? It looked
clean enough. "Wh-what's your name?"
 
“As though I would dignify that with an answer,” scoffed Arthur, guiding Alfred
to the bed pressed up against the wall. “You need only know that I am your
captain, and you do as I say. Right now, I’m telling you to get on the bed and
hold still.” Thankfully, a somewhat worn old rope from one of his earlier
conquests was still sitting on his desk, and he took it in the hand that wasn’t
still aiming the gun at Alfred. “Such an ugly name you have. I may have to
change it.”
 
Alfred did as told and sat down on the bed, eyeing the rope Arthur had. "It's
not ugly!" he snapped, not appreciating being insulted by this stranger. He
could feel his heart pounding in his chest, too scared to even ask what the
rope was for.
 
Arthur’s eyes grew narrow, and he pressed the nozzle of the gun straight
against Alfred’s head. “How quickly we forget our place on this ship, hm?
You’re playing a more dangerous game than you realize. Have you forgotten what
I can do? I can kill you. I can kill your family. About one third of your
village is probably dead already.” He pressed the hand with the rope against
Alfred’s chest and pushed him downward, until his head was on the pillows.
“Arms over your head. I’m going to put the gun down. If I see you move so much
as an inch, I will personally see to it that every man, woman and child in that
village is dismembered alive and fed to the sharks, and you will be whipped
until dead. Is that clear?”
 
Alfred was trembling, quickly moving his arms to rest above his head. He
couldn't risk letting more people die, especially his own family. He hoped they
would be alright, knowing they must be really worried about where he was. If
only he could have at least said goodbye. He watched Arthur set his gun down,
not even daring to ask what the other was doing.
 
It was a relief to have Alfred’s cooperation. Although he was confident that he
could subdue him, having to punish him would delay the very thing he kidnapped
the farmer in the first place. With the skill of someone who’d clearly done it
several times, he tied Alfred’s hands together to keep him from flailing about
as much, then proceeded to tie them to the decorative bed posts from there.
“Good lad. Hold still, if you don’t want to get cut,” he said, pulling a knife
from his pocket that he used to begin cutting away Alfred’s clothing, starting
with his shirt.
 
Alfred's breath hitched as he saw the knife, closing his eyes and expecting
pain only to hear a ripping sound and cool air hit his bare chest. "Wh-what?"
he asked, eyes wide open now as he watched the pirate slice his clothing up.
What was happening? He was tied to a bed and being stripped, was the
pirate...no, no it couldn't be that Alfred told himself, not even sure if such
a thing was even possible.
 
“Are you really still failing to comprehend the situation?” asked Arthur,
staring down at Alfred like a hungry predator. “Do you really not understand
what’s about to happen to you?” He continued cutting away at his captive’s
attire; were it worth something, he probably would have tried not to damage it,
but as it was, it wasn’t something he would be able to sell. If Alfred wanted
something to cover himself, there were some needles and some thread on board
for him to fix it himself. Not that he was likely to do a very good job of it;
the odds that he’d picked up a skill for something traditionally seen as a
woman’s job in his little village were unlikely.
 
Alfred could feel fresh tears forming in his eyes as he was finally stripped,
left nude in front of the pirate. He crossed his legs, trying to hide himself.
“B-But…” he started, not sure what to say exactly. “But...w-we’re both men,” he
had heard of sodomy a few times at church but he never paid attention enough to
really catch on what that meant.
 
“Such an astute observation!” teased Arthur, his hand gliding over Alfred’s
bare chest. He had a muscular frame, no doubt from lugging around all those
heavy tools. Still, he was a farmer, and Arthur doubted that he had a lot of
experience fighting, at least beyond wrestling with other children in his
village when he was young. “It should be obvious by now that your God cares
little for your well-being. There’s no need to heed such rules any longer.” Not
that he cared. Alfred was there for his enjoyment, not the other way around. He
just loved seeing them break down and cry, convinced that they were going to
Hell. Arthur pinched one of Alfred’s nipples between his thumb and forefinger
and pressed his lips to his neck. “You reek of corn…”
 
“S-Stop!” Alfred couldn’t help but shout as he was touched, trying to turn his
head away and get the man’s lips off of him. “Th-This is wrong, we can’t,”
tears ran down his cheeks again, his lower lip trembling. He was a good person,
he couldn’t do such immoral things.
 
Arthur smirked into his skin and sank his teeth into his shoulder, leaving a
lovely little red impression. How cute; his little lamb still thought he had a
choice! “We most certainly can. You just don’t believe we should. Of course, I
suppose I’m not surprised. You colonials have always had such atrocious
grammar.” He began to slide his tongue down Alfred’s body, from the crook of
his neck, down his chest, and then to his navel.
 
Alfred couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him, back arching off of the bed a
bit and goosebumps rising on his skin. “I-It’s wrong,” he sobbed, keeping his
legs squeezed together tightly, a pathetic attempt at hiding himself from the
other.
 
“A lot of things are wrong,” said Arthur, squeezing his hands between Alfred’s
legs and forcing them apart. It wasn’t quite as easy as he expected; he’d been
right when he predicted that Alfred would be strong. Still, he was young, and
his muscles had been built up from peasant work, not combat. No match at all
for a pirate captain. With his legs parted, Arthur took that chance to slide
his tongue along his captive’s inner thighs.
 
“S-Stop,” Alfred gasped, hating how the man’s soft tongue against his flesh
almost felt good. Almost. There was no way he could ever enjoy such a sinful
thing. “P-Please, I don’t want to go to Hell,” he knew it sounded a bit silly
but it was true. The pirate didn’t need to drag him down to Hell with him.
 
Arthur rolled his eyes. As far as he was concerned, anything that would punish
someone for eternity for something out of their control wasn’t worth serving.
The damn Puritans and their talk of predestination, however, made the least
sense in his mind; if you were saved or doomed from birth, life as a whole
seemed rather pointless. Either way, he supposed it didn’t matter. “Lad, I’ve
killed hundreds of people throughout my life. Begging for mercy is pointless.”
He let go of Alfred’s legs, and straddled his body, making sure to pick his gun
back up as insurance for what he was about to do. Slowly, he pulled down the
front of his trousers, releasing his erect cock from its confines. “Now, I’m
going to fuck your mouth, and you’re going to take it. If you bite, not only
will I kill everyone you love, but one of them will have to take your place
after I put a bullet between your eyes.”
 
Alfred couldn’t help himself as his gaze went straight to Arthur’s cock. The
pirate was going to put that in his mouth? It sounded so disgusting but he knew
he had no choice. He couldn't let himself get killed, or even worse, let his
family get killed. Knowing the pirate he’d just take his brother if he was
killed.
 
“Well, don’t just stare at it,” snapped Arthur. “Open your mouth and suck it!”
He’d taken a lot of people from all over the world, but so far Alfred had to be
the slowest. “Or do I have to repeat myself?” If it weren’t for his pretty
face, Arthur would have been sorely tempted to slit his throat. As it was, he
settled for setting his gun down to box his ears.
 
Before Alfred could even react he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his ears,
screaming in pain. His head felt like it was spinning and his ears were
ringing. Despite his pain he kept his mouth open, remembering the pirate’s
earlier threat.
 
Arthur picked his gun back up and made sure it was right against Alfred’s head
before he pressed the head of his cock into the Puritan’s mouth. “Aah, good
lad.” Such a warm, untainted mouth he had. Just knowing how thoroughly he was
violating the young man beneath him was enough to keep him hard. He pushed his
erection about halfway in, not quite sure just how well Alfred would be able to
take the whole thing. They didn’t eat well in the colonies. If it weren’t for
the land, there wouldn’t even be any reason to go there. Nothing but fish,
corn, tobacco, and a bunch of angry natives to deal with. No, the high seas
were far superior to all forms of land, that was for sure.
 
Alfred did his best not to bite down, curling his lips around his teeth so he
wouldn’t do it accidentally. It was so disgusting, to have that in his mouth.
He felt like throwing up, gagging a bit as the pirate pushed more of his cock
in. Maybe if he just laid back and let the pirate do what he wanted it would be
over soon, at least that’s what he kept telling himself anyways.
 
Arthur immediately noticed a struggle. It wasn’t that he cared how Alfred felt,
but vomit was incredibly unattractive. He kept his thrusts gentle, the main
goal to lubricate himself before the actual penetration. Actual, full-on mouth
fucking would have to wait until he’d trained his new whore to resist his own
gag reflex. Well, that was the plan, anyway. He could only hope that Alfred
didn’t end up like his last few toys. A few suicides, two attempted escapes
that led to them getting shot, and one that ended up getting suffocated to
death during sex by an overzealous crew member. Said crew member had been
swiftly ‘dealt with.’ Breaking the property of the captain, particularly beyond
repair, was forbidden.
 
Alfred simply laid back, letting the man thrust into his mouth. He’d have to
find a way to escape somehow, escape and find his family and run off to where
the pirate couldn’t find them. Surely he could. Maybe a crew member would help
him, although he severely doubted that. His gagging was going away bit by bit,
getting used to the man’s cock slowly.
 
At last, Arthur withdrew his cock from Alfred’s mouth, and dragged the head of
it down his chin. “Did you like how that tasted, little lamb?” He wore a cruel
grin from ear to ear, and climbed back off to take his place back between his
captive’s legs.
 
Alfred’s ears were still stinging, the boy shaking his head no at the question.
It was so disgusting, like clammy skin. Body trembling he opened his mouth to
beg, a quiet whimper escaping as his legs were spread again.
 
“That’s too bad. You’ll be tasting a lot of them,” said Arthur, licking his
lips. “But that’s just the warm-up for what’s to come.” He rubbed his cock
against Alfred’s soft, floppy length and sighed. Finally, the thing he’d been
waiting for since he’d first seen that wonderful, round bottom. As he slid his
erection between its two cheeks and up against his hole, he found with some
satisfaction that it was just as warm and soft as he’d imagined.
 
“Ah…” Alfred gasped, hips jerking up as Arthur rubbed his cock against his own.
He couldn’t help but flinch when the man’s cock rubbed against his entrance,
Alfred wishing he could at least cover his face with his hands.
 
“Oh?” said Arthur, pleasantly surprised by that little noise of Alfred’s.
“Perhaps you like this more than you let on.” He had such a cute look on his
face, all red and embarrassed. It was no wonder he’d felt so drawn to him. His
expression was just perfect. Slowly, Arthur lined himself up, and began pushing
in.
 
Before Alfred could reply with a stern ‘no’ he was screaming, pain ripping
through his entire body as the pirate shoved himself in. It was so painful, it
felt like he was being ripped in two slowly. It felt so wrong, like he was
committing a great sin just by having this done to him.
 
Arthur was delighted by his screams, and by the silent plea for mercy written
all over his face. That look of hopelessness and desperation, only made better
by a look of bitter defeat when they inevitably succumbed to their own
crippling misery. He was incredibly tight, especially as Arthur finally managed
to push his entire length into his twitching hole.
 
Alfred’s body was trembling, tears staining his face as he continued to sob. It
was so incredibly painful and humiliating. He had to wonder what he had done to
deserve such a thing. He was a good person, he always did his best, what had he
done to deserve such pain?
 
“Pitiful,” said Arthur breathily, pressing his forehead to Alfred’s. “You’re
doing a terrible job dealing with the pain. I must say, though, you feel
fantastic.” He pulled himself out, and then thrust back in without any care for
the well-being of his captive. “Does it sadden you, to know your creator has
left you to this fate? Does it hurt you to feel me deep within you, violating
everything you hold dear?”
 
Alfred turned his head as Arthur pressed his forehead against his. His eyes
were screwed shut, tears continuing to fall. Why had he been abandoned? Why had
he been forced into such a fate? “I-It hurts,” he whimpered, screaming as the
pirate began to thrust.
 
No, no he didn’t want to be touched there, he didn’t want it to feel good. Such
a thing was a sin, he had even avoided temptation when he got the urges to
touch himself, remembering how he had done it once only to feel extremely
guilty afterwards.
 
Arthur could see the distress on his face; he usually preferred looks of pain
to looks of pleasure, but the emotional pain of your body betraying you was by
far his favorite look. He longed to see that soul-crushing despair shining
through Alfred’s blue eyes. With malicious glee, he began sliding his hand up
and down, intent on hardening it.
 
Alfred could feel small sparks of pleasure building up inside him as Arthur
stroked his cock. He hated it, he hated how he was actually getting hard
despite the pain and humiliation.
 
“Hah, not so high and mighty now, are you?” purred Arthur, speeding both his
hips and his hand. He couldn’t get enough of Alfred’s insides, so smooth and
untouched. Virgins were definitely the best fucks, and anal virgins were simply
abundant. “I knew you would like it. Whore.”
 
“N-Not a whore,” Alfred sobbed, screaming out again as the pirate sped up his
movements. He wasn’t a whore. Whores were terrible people, people going to hell
for engaging in pleasures of the flesh outside of wedlock.
 
“Well, I suppose you wouldn’t be, if we were married,” said Arthur playfully.
“I’ll have my first mate hold a ceremony in the morning, shall I? Then you’ll
just be doing your duty to your husband as a loving wife!” He cared little for
religion; he was a thief and a murderer, after all. Having a fake little
ceremony just to freak Alfred out even more sounded incredibly entertaining.
“Until death do us part, hm?”
 
“I-I’m not a woman!” Alfred shouted, not at all amused by Arthur’s suggestion.
Two men couldn’t get married, such an idea was utterly ridiculous. Even if he
was a woman being married to such a man would be terrible.
 
“Oh, really? You had me fooled,” said Arthur, his hand moving quickly up and
down Alfred’s half-hard shaft. “I wonder, if you get pregnant, what should we
name the baby? I’m partial to Alexander, myself.” Arthur, Alfred, Alexander.
The thought was enough to have him laughing almost to the point of tears as he
viciously plundered the farmer’s tight hole.
 
Alfred really, really wished Arthur would stop with the joking. It was only
making him feel worse, for a split second wondering if he even could get
pregnant since they were having sex and sex was for procreation. He quickly
shook the thought away though, knowing it was ridiculous to even think that was
possible.
 
It was clear he would have to pull out all the stops to have Alfred fully
aroused. Arthur leaned over and lapped at his neck, briefly slowing his hips to
give him a bit of a break while he stroked his cock. Next came something he’d
picked up from that French rival of his. He pressed his lips to Alfred’s, even
as he struggled to avoid the contact, and shoved his tongue into his mouth.
 
The kiss had caught Alfred off guard, disgusted when he felt the pirates tongue
enter. It was so disgusting but at the same time he couldn’t help but let out a
whimper, his cock leaking a bit of precum as Arthur’s movements began to become
more gentle.
 
After a long moment, Arthur pulled his lips away, and looked Alfred straight in
the eyes. “You know,” he began, “I’ve never bedded any man who liked this as
much as you.” It was a lie, of course, but that wasn’t the point. “You know, I
was going to have you walk the ship naked, but I’ve changed my mind. I’ll find
you a dress and bonnet. If you’re good, I may even find you some pretty jewelry
to wear with it.” He changed the angle of his thrusts, determined to get that
sweet spot that would have Alfred silly with despair.
 
Alfred shut his eyes, not wanting to stare at the other’s bright green eyes. He
hoped Arthur was lying, lying about him enjoying it and lying about the
clothing. He couldn’t wear women’s clothing, he was a man! “N-Not enjoying it…”
he groaned, hips jerking up into Arthur’s touch.
 
“Of course not. That’s why you’re so hard, isn’t it? Face it, little lamb, the
evidence is right before you,” said Arthur, pressing his thumb against Alfred’s
slit. “What other man could take pleasure out of being sodomized by a pirate?”
Even if he didn’t have Alfred completely believing his words by the end of
their game, at least he would sow the seeds of self-doubt.
 
Alfred couldn't deny that it did feel good, at least a little that is. It still
hurt quite a bit but the pain was dying down and pleasure was replacing it. He
couldn't understand why his body was betraying him. He wasn't enjoying it, was
he?
 
“You can’t even deny it,” taunted Arthur. His own length was as stiff as could
be, and he could feel his own orgasm drawing closer with every successive
thrust into Alfred’s tight, warm body. “Did you ever think that maybe the
reason this is happening is because you deserve it?” He wanted Alfred to reach
his climax, then wallow in misery in the brig for the rest of the night.
 
It had to be true though, maybe he did deserve it. Was this because of the time
he touched himself? Or all the times he'd fallen asleep in church? It had to be
a punishment. Opening his mouth Alfred could only let out a low moan, Arthur's
cock occasionally hitting his prostate.
 
“Oh, you poor, damned soul, wallowing in your sin,” said Arthur softly,
nuzzling Alfred’s cheek. Images of his captive’s mangled corpse began to form
in his mind. Such beautiful blood splattered about the deck. That had ended at
least four of his pets; a simple desire to see them die just as they peaked. He
would have to do his best to hold back. Otherwise the sharks would dine on
human that night.
 
Alfred simply laid back, letting the pirate ravage his body. Pleasure was
building up inside of him, feeling like that one time he had sinned. The
nuzzling felt so strange, so gentle despite the other's harshness, almost
comforting in an odd way.
 
Arthur sifted his fingers through Alfred’s hair, which felt damp with sweat and
grease. Although many of his crew favored wealthy conquests, with their fair,
unmarred skin, he himself had a strong preference for the working class. The
calloused hands, strong bodies, and tan from the sun held much more appeal to
him. He pressed his lips to the farmer’s sweaty brow and pushed his legs a
little further apart.
 
Alfred head rolled back as he let out a loud groan, pleasure pooling in his
belly as Arthur stroked his cock. Oh he hoped that somehow he would be
forgiven. Or was it really a punishment? It had to be a punishment, he had to
have done something bad to deserve this.
 
Arthur knew he was reaching his limits, and there was no way that he was going
to end it before Alfred had spilled his seed. If it wasn’t completely
indisputable that he’d enjoyed himself, he would be slower to break. There was
nothing better than the look on their faces post-orgasm when they realized what
had happened. He wanted to see that on his captive. “I wonder,” he whispered
into Alfred’s ear, “how often have you touched yourself before this? How many
times have you sinned, you vile slut?”
 
Alfred wouldn’t even answer, too focused on that pleasure building up inside
him. It felt like that one time he had sinned which only caused Alfred to start
sobbing again. His hips jerked up, his body craving more of Arthur’s touch.
“Ah..” he gasped, back arching off of the bed as he suddenly came, warm cum
splattering over his own stomach and Arthur’s hand.
 
Finally, with that out of the way, Arthur was able to go all out. With no
further need to be gentle, he swung Alfred’s legs up onto his shoulders and
began pounding into him for all he was worth, not caring if he cried or bled.
It didn’t take long after he started for him to reach his blissful peak, and he
bit into Alfred’s shoulder as his sperm shot into his body.
 
Alfred cringed as he felt the other come, feeling like throwing up. It was so
disgusting, to have another man’s seed inside of him like he was some woman.”G-
Get out,” he begged, just wanting his arms to be untied so he could roll over
and cry for a bit.
 
“Excuse me, but this is my room,” said Arthur flatly. He wanted to refuse just
to spite him, his cock was quickly going soft. “And this is my ship. The first
rule of my ship is that my will is law. If you don’t like that, then I will be
more than happy to escort you off. In the middle of the ocean, with stones tied
to your ankles.” He pulled himself out and tucked himself away.
 
Alfred grunted as the pirate pulled out, cringing in disgust as he felt a bit
of the man’s cum drip out of him. His arms were getting really sore, feeling
numb in some places already. “P-Please, untie me my arms hurt.”
 
“As you wish.” He untied the rope and tossed it onto his desk, then aimed the
gun at Alfred’s head. “Now, if you’ll kindly allow me to escort you to the
brig, I would be very much obliged.” It was almost a shame that Alfred hadn’t
tried anything. He’d been so hoping for an excuse to torment him further. Well,
maybe if he tried to escape. That would be just lovely. He hadn’t whipped
anyone in ages. His entire crew was too frightened to disobey him.
 
“Wh-Why the brig?” Alfred asked, rubbing his sore arms. He’d have bruises for
sure although that was really the least of his worries. “And you tore up my
clothes. What am I supposed to wear?”
 
“The answer to your first question is because you’ll try running away if I
leave you anywhere else,” said Arthur, his tone like that of an English
gentleman despite the situation. “You’re better off for it, really. If I gave
you a hammock with the rest of the crew, you’d almost certainly be violated
throughout the night. I’d rather not have my crew tired in the morning because
they didn’t get any sleep.” He opened the door, and motioned for Alfred to go
through. “As for clothes, I already told you I would get you a pretty dress to
wear. For now, though, you’ve no need of them.”
 
Well, sleeping down there would at least be better than sleeping with Arthur or
any crewmembers, although having to wear a dress sounded terrible. Alfred got
up, walking slowly with the pirate through the door, using his hands to cover
his vital regions. The ship was still docked, Alfred wondering if escape would
be possible that night.
 
“Hands off your damned crotch and into the air,” ordered Arthur, raising his
hand as a warning. “That is, unless you want me to box your ears again.” He
wanted everyone to see the droplets of cum dripping down his softened length,
and the white streaks still running down his inner thighs. The person in charge
of swabbing the deck would probably be unamused, but such were the perks of
being captain. As long as they were getting their share of the money, they had
no right to complain.
 
Alfred’s ears were still ringing from the first time time it had happened, the
boy slowly moving his arms away and holding them up. He could see a few people
on deck as they walked up, shivering as the pirate’s cum dripped down his
thighs.
 
“You’re awfully calm walking around naked in broad daylight for a Puritan,”
remarked Arthur with a sneer. “I knew there was something about you I liked.
You really are a whore. It’s really no wonder your God abandoned you.” As he
pushed Alfred along, one of the crew members remaining on board got bold,
reached out, and slapped him on the ass. Arthur raised an eyebrow, sending him
scurrying away, but otherwise took no action. It was actually good for Alfred
to learn his place. He just couldn’t have people undermining his authority and
getting off without at least a glare.
 
Alfred yelped as he was suddenly slapped, moving his arms down to cover his ass
only to remember Arthur’s threat, raising them again. He wasn’t calm, he was
far from calm, but with a gun pointed at him and the threat of his family being
killed he had to at least act like he was. He needed to get out, to find his
family and leave. Surely he would be able to. Even the pirate needed to sleep
sometime.
 
It wasn’t a long walk to the brig, but Arthur took it slow, giving everyone a
chance to see his new toy. Briefly, he wondered how the raid was going. Knowing
his crew, they were probably having a grand old time with their new conquests,
and would probably end up drinking through the night. He supposed it was fine.
There wasn’t quite as much pressure to rush in the colonies. Even if someone
else showed up, it would take long enough for proper soldiers to arrive that
they would be able to get away without a problem. Maybe they would be able to
sell that gold they’d picked up from that Spanish supply ship in port.
 
The walk was painful, it felt like an eternity before the two of them reached
the brig. At least now though no one could see him and he would get to sleep
alone. If only he could bathe but he figured asking the pirate would just get
him in more trouble so he kept his mouth shut, figuring Arthur would say
something when he was wanting him to bathe.
 
Arthur opened the door, stepped behind Alfred, and kicked him inside with the
intent to knock him to the ground. “I suppose that as my new wife, I should
probably feed you,” said Arthur, slamming the door shut behind him and locking
it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of hardtack, which he
tossed through the bars as though he were feeding a ravenous dog. “One of the
sailors will bring you a bowl of water. Behave yourself, or you’ll be going
thirsty.”
 
An honorable man would have set the keys out of reach, such as on the hook
intended for that very purpose. Alas, he was not an honorable man, and set them
down on a table nearby that he was certain Alfred would be able to get to with
a little effort.
 
Alfred did fall as he was kicked, landing on his rather sore ass. As Arthur
shoved the hardtack in Alfred realized that he really wasn’t all that hungry.
After everything that had just happened he knew he would just throw up if he
ate. Water did sound nice though, he could stay quiet and calm until he got
some. Standing up Alfred looked around, finding a few hammocks around. They
didn’t look all that comfortable but it was better than nothing. However as he
was looking his eyes caught hold of keys, sitting there on a table. He could
feel his heart skip a beat as he saw them, wondering if the pirate had
forgotten them or not.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Arthur sat idly in his quarters, looking over his charts and trying to come up
with the next course of action. It was nice that they’d taken a break to
brutalize a few isolated colonial villages, but it was time to get back to
work. He’d already heard talk that the Spanish were thinking of adding more
security around the ships going back and forth from their colonies to the
mainland, and he wanted to make sure that they squeezed them for as much as
they could before it became impossible. Still, that was all the way down south,
and they would be stopping in several ports along the way to resupply. The
question remained whether they wanted to buy things legitimately, or steal them
in the night and risk drawing attention to themselves.
 
Briefly, his mind went back to his new captive. He hoped that he took the bait.
Running a ship, especially a pirate ship, was a stressful career. He needed an
excuse to release some of the pent-up tension.
 
Alfred had finally gotten his water, sipping it as he tried the hardtack,
succumbing to his his stomach rumbling. It tasted terrible and after a few
bites he had tossed it aside, finishing the water instead. He kept his eyes on
the keys, as if they would disappear if he were to blink. It was too good to be
true, but he had to try at least. It would be stupid not to. Luckily he also
never felt the ship start to move, realizing that they were still in port.
 
After what felt like hours Alfred got up and grabbed the keys, putting them in
the keyhole one by one until he found the right one. As quietly as he could he
opened the door, heading up to the ship’s deck and sighing in relief when he
saw it was nighttime. Now all he had to do was not be spotted as he escaped.
 
Arthur, still at his desk, heard a knock at the door. “Yes, what is it? Make it
quick, I’m busy.”
 
Slowly, the door opened, and one of his men stepped inside. “Sir, that boy you
were keeping locked up managed to escape; we spotted him just a moment ago on
his way to the dinghy. Would you like us to go after him?”
 
Arthur smiled. Of course. What a fool. Did he really think that nobody would be
on watch at night? Only a crew of fools would have everyone sleeping at once.
Even for those who liked to stay within the law, it left them open to being
targeted by pirates.
 
“Wait for him in the boat, under the seats; it’s tied to the side opposite from
the one we were ferrying ourselves across from, so it should take him a few
minutes to find it. Then jump out and surprise him when he gets there. Drag him
back onto the ship, then bring him to me.”
 
“Aye, captain.”
 
Alfred had assumed there would be people on watch, doing his best to try and
stay hidden. Problem now was where to find the boat to take him back to land.
He could swim, but even that swim would be too cold and too far for him.
Luckily he bumped into it by accident, seeing the boat there. Now all he had to
do was somehow get in it and make his escape…
 
Suddenly, a pair of armed pirates popped out from under the seats, twisted
grins on their faces. The one to the left pointed his musket in Alfred’s
direction and laughed. “Did you really think it would be that easy?” he asked
as the other climbed over the side to get back into the ship. “That our captain
would just leave those keys out in the open like that? You’ve been set up, you
poor bastard.”
 
Alfred couldn’t help but let out a scream as he was suddenly ambushed, about
ready to turn and run until he saw the musket pointed in his direction. He felt
so stupid now, knowing there would have been no way Arthur would have left the
keys out like that. “P-Please,” he begged, wishing his family had more money,
maybe then he could have made a deal with these pirates.
 
“Please, what? Let you go?” asked the pirate who’d climbed back into the ship,
grabbing Alfred by the arm. “Captain Kirkland would have our heads.”
 
“Well, he is an idiot. Maybe he thought we’d feel sorry for him.”
 
“No one is that stupid.”
 
The pirate with the musket kept it pressed against Alfred’s back as they
marched him off to the main deck, where Arthur stood waiting in the lantern
light, a barbed whip in his gloved hands.
 
Alfred wished he could have kept his tears in, hating how weak he felt and even
looked. He could see Arthur coming up in the distance, noticing the whip in his
hands. It would hurt, he wasn’t sure how badly, but surely as bad as earlier if
not worse. “P-Please don’t,” he sobbed, reaching up to wipe his eyes.
 
“Tie him to the mast,” said Arthur in an eerily calm voice, as though he wasn’t
angry at all. Which was, in fact, probably because he wasn’t angry. The
situation had been very much intentional from the start.
 
His men shoved Alfred against the large wooden fixture, wrapped his arms around
it, and bound his wrists tightly, leaving his bare back and buttocks exposed.
The job was made easy by the fact that he was already nude. Arthur couldn’t
help but find it a shame that he wouldn’t be able to see the full extent of the
damage in the dim light.
 
Alfred tugged at the rope binding his wrists to the mast, knowing it was
ultimately useless to even try and escape. All he could do was brace himself
for the pain he knew was to come, hoping that the pirate would take pity on
him. He wanted to pray, beg for forgiveness but he knew his prayers wouldn’t be
answered, not after what had happened earlier.
 
“How many lashes do you intend to give him, sir?” asked one of his men.
 
“As many as it takes for the lesson to sink in,” he answered simply. The man
who’d asked the question couldn’t help but wince sympathetically, despite
himself; they all knew very well what that meant. It would be days before the
captive farmer would be capable of doing much more than try to rest and
recover, let alone attempt another escape. Arthur ran a tight ship. They all
remembered the man he’d whipped to the point of unconsciousness and proceeded
to hang for falling asleep on his watch. No one had dozed off since, no matter
how tired they were.
 
He raised his arm, and the first lash fell across Alfred’s back.
 
Alfred wasn't prepared for the pain, the barbs tearing off bits of flesh as the
pirate landed the first hit of the whip. His screams were loud, louder than
they were before and fresh tears fell down his cheeks. He wasn't sure if he
could handle this. Just one whip had done enough to turn him into a blubbering
mess.
 
Arthur slid his hand along the whip’s long handle and sighed. He’d been hoping
that Alfred would hold up a bit better than that. Oh well. He was young yet.
After a few years of ship life, he would get better at toughing it out. The
next lash came from the side, like the slash of a sword, striking him across
his lower back.
 
Alfred jumped, blood running down as more skin was torn off with the whip. He
knew that it probably wasn't as bad as his screams made it sound but he was
just so overwhelmed. He had been kidnapped, sinned, locked away, and now
whipped all in one day.
 
“He’s going to have scars all over his back,” murmured one of the crew members.
“How am I supposed to pretend he’s a woman like that?”
 
“I rather like the battered look, myself. Besides, there’s no way you can
pretend that, anyway; it’s obvious even from behind that it’s a man…”
 
“If you have time to chat,” snapped Arthur, “you have time to work. Go take an
inventory of all the gold. And so help me, if I find one piece in your pockets
that wasn’t in your pay, you’ll be demoted to his status.” He jerked his head
in Alfred’s direction, just before proceeding to strike him with the whip
straight across his bottom. Both of them quickly ran off to do as they’d been
told; the first time he’d made a threat like that, a man had been convinced he
was bluffing.
 
He never bluffed.
 
Well, at least no one would be standing around watching Alfred thought to
himself, trying to think of something good, anything. As long as he could
distract himself from the pain. He flinched as he heard the whip crack again,
flesh torn from his ass as blood began to drop from it as well.
 
Arthur brought down his arm yet again, striking twice in quick succession. Once
across Alfred’s shoulder blades, and once more across his lower back, crossing
over one of the earlier cuts. He was bleeding quite badly by then, he noted,
and the blood was getting all over the wooden deck. That would be a pain to
clean once it dried, he knew. Arthur furrowed his brow and considered ending it
a little earlier than usual; after all, it was a first offense. And quite
frankly, Alfred wasn’t taking it as well as he’d hoped.
 
Alfred was barely standing, his legs feeling like they’d give out any second
now. The pain and blood loss wasn’t helping, only making him feel rather dizzy.
He braced himself for a third strike, letting out a sigh of relief when it
never came. Hopefully now the pirate would patch him up and let him rest for a
bit.
 
Just as Alfred finally began to relax and let his guard down, however, Arthur
let him have it with a final blow across his behind, criss-crossing with the
previous one to have landed there. At last, with his toy appearing to be on the
verge of passing out, Arthur handed the whip to one of his men and stepped
forward to go check on Alfred’s injures with the oil lamp hanging beside the
door.
 
Alfred had fallen to his knees with the last blow, unable to hold himself up
anymore. He was too weak, he felt so pathetic. He could hear the pirate step
forward, not daring to crane his head to look at the man.
 
Arthur held the lantern close to Alfred’s back to get a better look at the
damage. “Hmm, nothing a little rest won’t fix,” he said simply, untying the
rope that had his captive’s arms bound to the post. He didn’t even bother with
his gun; he knew that Alfred had absolutely no chance to get away in such a
state. “Come on, lad, can you get up?”
 
Alfred rubbed his sore arms as they were freed, slowly standing up but not
without hissing in pain. His entire back and ass stung, blood dripping down
onto the wood beneath them. He wasn’t sure how well he would be able to walk
though, plus he’d be sleeping on his stomach for quite awhile.
 
Arthur sighed and removed his coat; he didn’t want it tainted with whore-blood.
It was one thing for it to be ruined in battle, but the blood of a fuck-toy was
about as dignified as a tea stain. He tossed it over the shoulder of one of the
nearby members of his crew to carry - much to their annoyance - and slung
Alfred’s arm over his shoulders.
 
“You should be honored,” said Arthur, slowly walking forward. Alfred was
heavier than he’d initially anticipated. “It’s not every day the captain
escorts a prisoner to the brig. I thought I would make a special exception for
my new wife.”
 
Alfred let the pirate help him walk, glad at least for this tiny bit of mercy.
“We’re not married,” Alfred mumbled, not really caring if Arthur heard him. He
was no one’s wife, he was a man there was no way he could be a wife.
 
“Oh, my apologies, love,” said Arthur, quick to correct himself. “Of course
you’re not my wife. Simply my fiancé, yes?” He laughed and gave one of the crew
members standing around a light kick. “You. Be a dear and open the door for the
bride-to-be.”
 
Alfred wished he could have at least had Arthur’s coat, shivering in the cool
night air. Would he at least be patched up? Surely the pirate had some bandages
on his ship. Plus he wanted his injuries to heal quickly. “A-Are you gonna
bandage my back up?”
 
“Hmm… I suppose I could,” mused Arthur as they descended the steep staircase to
get below deck. “But bandages are quite valuable on a pirate ship, you know.
People get injured all the time. It would take a bit of persuasion to waste
some on you, even if you ARE my fiancé.” He took another look at Alfred’s back.
It definitely required treatment, and he couldn’t have his new toy dying so
early, but he wanted Alfred convinced that his life meant nothing to him.
Otherwise he would be harder to break. “So, tell me, then… Why should I waste
valuable bandages on you? What do you have to offer me?”
 
Alfred slowly walked down the stairs, being careful not to fall. “Um…” he
wasn’t sure how to respond, not knowing what he could offer the pirate. He was
already a slave, there wasn’t much more he could do. “Wh-Whatever you want,” he
simply responded, hoping that would be enough to get some bandaging.
 
“Oh, really?” said Arthur, his tone one of disbelief. “Very well, then. Let’s
test that, shall we?” Alfred was obviously not very bright, making such a big
claim without fully understanding the ramifications. Still, he was young.
Hopefully, he would smarten up with time, as there were uses for whores beyond
that of just personal enjoyment. “Would you renounce your God and pledge your
soul to me?”
 
Alfred hadn’t been expecting that, not sure how to answer. On one hand he was
already doomed to hell, but on the other renouncing God was something he didn’t
think he could do so easily. He kept quiet at that, hoping the pirate would
suddenly say that he was joking.
 
Unfortunately, no such words came. Only a period of silence followed by Arthur
shaking his head. “Foolish boy. Don’t make proclamations that you can’t keep.
The next time you lie to me, you’ll have your back against that post, and it
will be your chest that feels the bite of the whip.” He couldn’t reward such an
error with bandages, but he could give Alfred a chance to correct himself. As
he led Alfred into his cell, Arthur decided to pose another question. “How
about we start with something simpler, hm? Would you tell your husband-to-be
that you’re eager to be his wife?” Knowing it would be a blow to Alfred’s pride
to do so, he added, “It’s fine if you can’t. Those bandages can be put to a
much better use than a runaway slut.”
 
Well...that was better than the whole renouncing God thing. “I-I’m eager to be
your wife…” Alfred mumbled, making sure he was loud enough for Arthur to hear.
Saying those words stung, Alfred having to hold back his tears. The threat of
the whip was enough to make him do what the other told him, not sure if he
could handle anymore pain that day.
 
Arthur had hoped for something a bit more enthusiastic, but he supposed it was
foolish to think Alfred would be willing to do more than that so early after
being kidnapped. “That will do,” he said, easing Alfred off of his shoulder. “I
don’t think you’ll be able to sleep in a hammock tonight, but I’ll have someone
spread a couple of old rags out on the floor for you. They’ll be able to
bandage you up, too.” That certainly wasn’t his job. Such menial tasks were
given to those of significantly lower status, not much higher in rank than
Alfred himself.
 
Alfred was glad he wasn’t forced to sleep in the hammock, knowing there was no
way he would be able to sleep on his back. He sank down to his knees as Arthur
let go of him, feeling way too weak to stand. “C-Can I have some water please?”
he dared to ask, his mouth and throat feeling so dry.
 
“You’re awfully demanding for a prisoner,” said Arthur, but he nodded
regardless. “Very well, since you’ll need your strength back to properly do
your job. But I don’t want any more escape attempts.” Not that it would matter
much; by the time Alfred finally recovered enough to stand, they would be out
at sea.
 
“I-I won’t,” Alfred whimpered, glad to hear he’d be getting some water. He
wasn’t trying to be demanding, he was just so thirsty. His throat felt raw from
all his screaming, his voice getting hoarse.
 
“Good lad. There should be plenty to drink while we’re anchored by land,” said
Arthur. He locked the door behind him, unnecessary as it was with Alfred’s
injuries, and left the keys on the hook a good distance away from the bars
where they belonged. “I look forward to seeing you in the morning. If the
rocking of the ship makes you ill, just use the bucket they use to bring you
your water to throw up. Unless you enjoy sleeping in a puddle of your own
vomit.”
 
Alfred nodded, lying down on the hard floor. He was so tired he knew he could
easily fall asleep without any bedding. Hopefully he wouldn’t get seasick, he
felt bad enough already without having to throw up.
 
With no more to say, Arthur put out the oil lamp and left the room, leaving
Alfred in the darkness, alone and in silence. Perhaps, if he didn’t cause
trouble, he would let him above deck when he was well to see what it was like
to be on a ship in motion, out at sea. It was a lovely view, provided you
weren’t one of the sailors responsible for keeping it running.
 
Alfred shivered a bit, wishing he had a blanket to cover up in. Despite the
terrible pain he was in he was extremely exhausted. He closed his eyes, trying
to ignore his pain as he slowly fell asleep, hoping that when he woke up he’d
realize this had all been a terrible dream.
***** Chapter 3 *****
“Raise the anchor!”
It was a beautiful day to set sail. The sun was shining, the wind was blowing,
and they’d managed to secure a few more goods from the Puritan village than
he’d first thought. According to his sources, Alfred’s family was still very
much alive - although not exactly well - and several families had possessed
some iron goods like pots and pans that would fetch a decent, if not fantastic,
price overseas. Arthur barked out orders to his men, eager to get back to sea
before some trader or another came by to bring reinforcements. Everything had
gone exactly as planned, something he found was rather rare when it came to
life as a pirate.
On the downside, their food stores had been filled to the brim with corn,
something Arthur had very quickly gotten his fill of during his first week
exploring the colonies, and he couldn’t stand the smell of the looted tobacco
that his men insisted on smoking.
Alfred hadn't slept too well. He kept waking up from pain or nightmares. He
could feel the ship moving, glad it wasn't making him seasick. Sitting up he
saw a bucket of water, pretty much chugging it down. It must be daytime he
figured, wondering if Arthur was going to come down and see him sometime. He
hoped not, being alone was better than being with the pirate.
It was clear that Alfred had terrible luck, because it wasn’t long before there
was a sound like boots going down the stairs, and a lantern was lit. “I hope I
haven’t interrupted anything important,” said Arthur, staring through the bars
at his conquest. “How have you been, love?” He smirked down at the young
colonist and reached for the keys. “I hope you haven’t been missing me too
much.”
Alfred groaned, sitting up on his knees. He noticed he had a few old rags
around him, probably brought down after he had fallen asleep. His back stung
still, not as bad as before but the pain was still there. "I'm...fine," he
answered, rubbing his eyes with his hands.
“Oh, that’s good,” said Arthur, unlocking the door and entering the room. He
knelt down beside Alfred and looked over his back. The bandages were bloody,
and would have to be changed, but at least the bleeding had stopped. He’d been
told by many a doctor about the wonders of bleeding as a treatment, but he’d
seen all too many a member of his crew fall in battle because their throats
were sliced open. “Because today is our wedding day.”
"Wh-what?" Alfred asked, eyes going wide in shock as he heard that. A wedding?
He thought the pirate had been joking. There was no way two men could get
married, such a thing was absurd. He didn't want to risk getting whipped again
though, keeping his protests to himself.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already!” said Arthur, feigning sadness.
“And to think, I found you the most beautiful dress, too! Perhaps not quite as
beautiful as that of royalty, but it’s amazing what you happen across when
you’re rifling through the goods of wealthy merchants.” He traced his fingers
along the wounds. Too much movement would open them back up. It didn’t matter
so long as he was in his cell, but he would have to keep him as still as
possible while he was in the dress. They still had to sell it after they were
done using it to torment Alfred. “And then, of course, we’ll have to consummate
the marriage…”
Alfred flinched as his wounds were touched, too scared to even dare move to get
away from the other. He was a man! He couldn't wear a dress and get married.
"We've already done that, last night," he muttered, hating the condescending
tone in Arthur's voice.
“You silly little colonial folk,” said Arthur, ruffling Alfred’s hair. “You
can’t consummate a marriage before you’re married. That’s just ridiculous.” He
was taking quite a lot of amusement from his new toy, and his dim-wittedness
and inability to stay quiet even when it was obvious he was being teased were
only making it better.
Alfred growled as his hair was ruffled, turning his head away from Arthur. He
knew he was being teased but it was so hard to keep quiet, the pain in his back
reminding him though that it was for the best. "Whatever," he mumbled, doing
his best to hold in his tears.
Arthur chuckled. “Don’t you want to see your wedding dress?” he asked, standing
back up. “Or is it that you can’t actually walk?” He hadn’t been too much
better off, the first time he’d been on the wrong end of a whip, but at least
he’d made an effort. Then again, he’d also been on a legitimate ship of his own
free will, so he supposed that there might have been a tiny difference between
the two scenarios. “We’ve even found an old corset gathering dust in the
storeroom.”
Alfred struggled to stand up, a few tears making their way down his cheeks. It
hurt so bad but he didn't want to appear too weak. The corset sounded painful
though, especially considering his wounds. God really had forsaken him hadn't
he?
Arthur helped him to his feet and slung his arm over his shoulders as he had
the previous day. “Don’t fret, love. We won’t tie it too tightly. Now, I just
need you to sit on that barrel over there while I fix your bandages. Do you
think you can manage that?” he asked, as though he were actually concerned. He
guided Alfred over to the object in question, and hoisted him up onto the lid
to begin removing the bloody bandages.
Alfred nodded, knowing his bandages would need to be changed considering there
had been blood stains on the floor he had slept on. “I don’t need a corset,” he
said, dreading the idea of having to wear one.
“You’re a bit on the pudgy side,” said Arthur, cutting the bandages off with a
knife and tossing them to the floor for someone else to take care of later. The
poor people of the colonies had better access to meat than those back home on
the mainland. All of the forests where he’d been born had been owned by the
wealthy, and hunting on them had been forbidden. That, and Alfred had lived by
the coast, where he had no doubt had a steady supply of fish. “It’s not very
flattering for a lady.”
Alfred couldn’t help but look down as Arthur said that, noticing that his tummy
was a bit pudgy. “I’m not fat,” he snapped, suddenly feeling very self
conscious about it. Even if he was fat he wasn’t a woman and was really getting
tired of Arthur insisting he was.
Arthur almost felt sorry for the poor thing, obviously too dense to learn from
his mistakes. As he had the previous day, the pirate held his hands up and
boxed his ears before he began to wrap a roll of bandages around Alfred’s
torso. “You are what I say you are. If I tell you that you’re a dog, you kneel
down and bark. Do you understand, or do I need to remind you of just who it is
you’re speaking to?”
Alfred certainly hadn’t been expecting that, screaming out in pain. He couldn’t
exactly hear what Arthur said after that, his ears ringing and his hearing
slowly coming back. “S-Sorry,” he said, almost screaming it considering he
could barely even hear himself speak.
Arthur sighed. He had a lot of work to do, that was for sure. At least, unlike
the more intelligent ones, he could be more certain that the loyalty he
intended to drill into him would be real, not fake. He honestly didn’t think
Alfred was capable of such a degree of acting, quite frankly. With the bandages
changed, he helped Alfred to his feet. “Come along. You need to get changed.”
Alfred stood up, hissing in pain as he did. His wounds still hurt quite a bit
and the idea of having a corset tied around them sounded even worse. At least
this wedding wasn’t a real one, just a trick he kept telling himself. He would
find a way off this ship eventually and then hopefully he could seek
forgiveness.
“I would give you the dress now,” said Arthur, making conversation on the way
up the stairs, “but alas, it’s bad luck for me to see you dressed up before the
wedding. On a ship like this, bad luck is something we can do without.” He
wanted to push his luck. He wanted Alfred to snap at him again, and insist he
was a man, just for an excuse to put him down and show him otherwise. There was
a reason he found religious men so entertaining; their belief in their innate
superiority was their own undoing, to the point where forcing them to do
ladylike tasks and wear feminine clothing was enough to break down their sense
of self-worth.
“I’m not a woman!” Alfred snapped, as if doing exactly what Arthur had wanted.
He couldn’t wear a dress! Men who dressed like women were evil, they were going
to Hell. Alfred didn’t want to go to Hell, although he supposed he already was
considering everything that had happened so far.
Arthur grinned, and shoved Alfred up against the steep stairs so his wounded
back was pressed against the edge of the steps, and his hands were wrapped
around his throat. “Did you not hear me? I suppose not,” he said, leaning in
closer to his ear. “I told you not a moment ago that if I say you’re a dog, you
bark. Or do you want to taste the whip again? I can run it right across that
foul tongue of yours, if you’d like.”
In Alfred’s defense he hadn’t heard the dog part earlier, his ears still
recovering from being boxed. He coughed a bit as Arthur’s hands were forced
around his neck, cutting off his supply of oxygen. He nodded the best he could,
unable to really talk at the moment.
At last, Arthur released him, and he pulled him by the hand to his feet. “Good
lass,” he said, a smile on his face. “Up we go.” He continued up the stairs and
pushed open the hatch overhead. “Behave yourself, and maybe I’ll give you a sip
of rum to numb the pain.” He took Alfred by the arm to aid him up the final few
steps, where a couple men stood laughing under their breath. In the hands of
one was a long purple dress, a pinnacle of luxury for its rare and difficult-
to-acquire dye.
Alfred could feel a few tears run down his face as he saw the dress. It wasn’t
the fanciest but it was nicer than what most of the women he knew wore. It was
even worse considering Arthur’s crew was there, laughing at him.
“Smith,” said Arthur, addressing the man with the dress. “Go. See to it that
he’s ready to be wed.”
The pirate known only as Smith nodded. “Aye, captain!” he answered, cackling so
hard that there were tears in his eyes. He took Alfred by the shoulder and
pulled him away from the crowd, in the direction of the stairs leading down to
the hammocks where the majority of the crew slept.
“W-Wait,” Alfred screamed, suddenly being yanked away by one of the crew
members. Why did the crew need to prepare him? He didn’t want to be seen by
everyone! The laughter only made it worse, Alfred unable to help himself as he
started to cry.
Out of sight of Arthur, the pirate Smith unfolded the dress, revealing a corset
beneath it. It was the first item to go on, and one of the men held Alfred
still while he wrapped it around his body and pulled the strings.
“Such a pretty little girl, you are,” said one of the pirates, giving him a
slap on the rear. “A shame you’re taken.”
“Don’t worry. The captain always makes sure to share his trophies when he’s not
using them…”
Alfred yelped at the slap, glad that the men had at least not tied the corset
too tight, although it still hurt against his wounds on his back. “N-Not a
girl,” he kept insisting, knowing they were just trying to upset him. Still, it
was working, a few sobs escaping his throat as he reached up to wipe his tears
away.
“Put these on,” ordered one of the pirates, a pair of bloomers in his arms.
“Then raise your arms.”
As encouragement to cover himself as quickly as possible, one of them grabbed
Alfred’s bottom and squeezed, pressing their lips to his cheek. “Impossible.
Only a lady could be as weak and pathetic as you.”
“Sh-Shut up!” Alfred snapped, pushing himself away from the man before quickly
slipping the bloomers on the best he could with his injuries and all. Sure it
was women’s clothing but at least now he was covered up. “Like any of you are
real men anyways. No real men would act in such a way.”
“Ooh, a feisty one,” said one of the pirates, grinning ear to ear. “I know we
aren’t allowed to kill him, but did the captain say a word about cutting up
that lovely face of his?” He held up a rusty knife and pointed it in Alfred’s
direction.
“Patience. You’ll have your chance soon enough. For now, though…” said the one
called Smith. He slipped the dress on over Alfred’s head. “Where did you put
that silver necklace? I think it suits the pretty maiden.”
Alfred flinched as he saw the knife, glad at least the crew was too scared of
the pirate to harm him. He didn’t fight as the dress was slipped on, knowing it
would be pointless anyways. It felt so strange to be wearing such clothing.
“Just hurry up with all of this.”
The pirate behind him wrapped the necklace around his throat, and his arm
around his chest. “Excuse me?” he said, quite clearly angered by the words. “I
don’t believe that’s any way for a lady to talk to a man.” He pressed his gun
to Alfred’s head and licked his cheek. “Don’t think for a second that we can’t
hurt you just because we can’t cut you. You’re already soiled. Arthur won’t
mind if we have a little fun before we take you up…”
Alfred cringed as he was licked, feeling the slimy organ drag along his cheek.
The threats were enough to scare him into keeping quiet, Alfred having to bite
his lower lip before he said anything else. Surely the pirates were just
joking, Arthur was a scary man, there was no way they could disobey him.
The pirates practically dragged him back up, though they were careful not to
ruin the dress; it was too valuable to soil so easily. By the time they reached
the deck, the rest of the crew already stood in rows on either side, with
Arthur and another man standing between them at the end. They shoved him
towards the other end, in plain view of everyone present, and one of them
seized his arm to escort him slowly towards to the groom.
Arthur really was going all out for this Alfred thought to himself, breathing
heavily as he saw the pirate. He didn't even know the man's name and here they
were getting fake married. Resisting was useless he knew, walking with the crew
member who had his arm.
Arthur smiled and planted a kiss on the back of Alfred’s hand, as the pirate
holding his arm let go to stand off to the side. Though not everyone present
was quite as amused as he himself was, they weren’t about to pass up a chance
to take a break from work to watch some random captive suffer. “I’m so glad you
could make it, darling. That dress does look good on you.” He would have to
find something cheaper in port and make it a regular thing. Maybe coupled with
a bonnet.
Alfred looked away as his hand was kissed, a light blush on his cheeks. Just
keep quiet and take it he kept telling himself, the pain in his back reminding
him about what could happen if he acted up. The gazes from the crew members
were only making him more nervous. Hopefully this would be quick, he wanted out
of that corset.
“Dearly beloved,” began the man before them, as melodramatically as possible.
“We are gathered here today in the sight of God, and in the face of this
company, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony…”
Arthur pulled Alfred close to him. For a moment, he wished that his toy was a
bit shorter, so that he could place his newfound wife’s head against his chest.
Only for a moment, though, because he quickly solved the problem of height by
yanking Alfred downwards to do just that.
Alfred yelped as he was suddenly shoved down, his head being forced to rest
against the pirates chest. The wedding even seemed real, but no, it was nothing
God would be approving of. At least that way it could never be a real wedding.
The man droned on with his speech for several minutes more. “Through marriage,
Arthur and Alfred make a commitment together to face their disappointments,
embrace their dreams, realize their hopes, and accept each other’s failures…”
It carried on, and on, seemingly without end, until at long last he reached the
vows. All the while, Arthur stood patiently with Alfred in his arms. “Do you,
Arthur, take Alfred to be your your wife, to live together after God’s
ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony?” Notably, the parts about forsaking
all others and any semblance of loyalty were omitted.
“I do,” answered Arthur.
“And do you, Alfred, take Arthur to be your husband, to live together after
God’s ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love him, comfort
him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for
better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow
upon him your heart’s deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself
only unto him as long as you both shall live?”
Arthur stared straight into Alfred’s eyes, silently threatening him harm if he
refused.
Well...at least Alfred now knew the man's name he told himself. He barely
listened to the mock ceremony, only realizing it was time for his 'I do' when
Arthur turned to glare at him. "I-I do..." he said rather nervously, not really
having much of a choice in the matter.
“I now pronounce you man and wife!” said the pirate presiding over the
ceremony. “You may now kiss the bride!”
Arthur pulled Alfred down into his arms and pressed their lips together, as the
rest of the sailors standing to watch all mockingly clapped their hands.
Alfred's eyes were screwed shut in disgust, tasting rum on the pirates lips as
he was kissed. He didn't kiss back, he wouldn't. He wouldn't let Arthur or
anyone else think he was enjoying this.
Although it bothered him that his ‘bride’ wasn’t returning the favor, Arthur
released him even so. After all, they had a marriage to consummate. He could
only hope that Alfred put up less of a struggle than the previous night. The
posts at the head of his bed had been cracked by his squirming, so he didn’t
want to have to tie him to them again. “Okay, then. Back to work, everyone.”
There was a resulting groan of disappointment. “In honor of my new bride, you
can all feel free to help yourselves to whatever is left of the rum once we
make port.” That seemed to cheer them back up. There wasn’t much left, anyway;
they would have to re-stock their alcohol stores soon. A lot of the men got a
bit cranky when they didn’t get their fix.
Finally Arthur broke the kiss, Alfred reaching up to wipe his mouth with his
arm. He was rather grateful the crew was being shooed away, although he
couldn't say he was looking forward to what was next. It felt like such a
mockery of what Alfred had been taught was a ceremony for God. As if properly
securing his position in Hell.
With his arm locked with Alfred’s, Arthur began heading back to his quarters
with Alfred by his side. There was work to be done, for certain, but that could
wait. They already had a course plotted out, and as long as there were no
deviations, they would be at the next port in a few days. “Are you prepared, my
darling?”
"Not really," Alfred mumbled, arms crossed as he was dragged back into that
dreaded room. He didn't want to experience that ever again. It had been too
painful and too humiliating he wasn't sure if he could keep doing it without
going crazy.
“Of course. I should be more understanding. What bride isn’t nervous on their
wedding night?” said Arthur, closing the door behind them and locking it
tightly. He never slept with the door open. It paid to be paranoid, especially
when you were in charge of a band of back-stabbing murderers. He’d single-
handedly stopped a mutiny, once, but that had been while he was awake. The best
fencer, the best shot with a gun… Neither stood a chance when they were
unconscious, and he was no exception.
Alfred could feel himself getting more anxious about the entire thing as the
door was shut and locked. At least no one could walk in he figured, not that it
mattered. He had already been humiliated in front of Arthur’s entire crew. “I’m
not a bride,” he mumbled, not moving from his spot near the door.
Arthur beckoned for him to get closer. “Nonsense. Of course you are.” Briefly,
he wondered just how ignorant Alfred was in sexual matters, and how far he
would be able to take his lies in the name of messing with his poor, empty
head. “After all, we held the ceremony, and you’ll be carrying my children.”
“I-I can’t have children, I’m a man!” Alfred sputtered, cheeks bright red as he
heard that. Now that was just ridiculous. Only women had children, not men.
“Don’t lie to me like that, I’m not stupid.”
A wise man had once told Arthur that you could sell almost any lie as long as
you kept a straight face. “Well, not yet, you can’t. But if a man reaches
orgasm on another man’s cock without having his own touched, he can get
pregnant.” It was the stupidest, most bold-faced lie he’d ever told, and the
odds of Alfred believing it were slim to none. Still, if nothing else, it was
good for a laugh. He took Alfred by the arm and began tugging him towards the
bed, without outright yanking him towards it.
No, that couldn’t be true. It was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
Although...a woman got pregnant when she had sex with a man. Could it really
work that way for him? No, no it couldn’t. “Y-You’re lying,” he stuttered,
stumbling forward as Arthur pulled him. “I’m not stupid.”
“Of course, your little Puritan family wouldn’t tell you that, would they?”
sighed Arthur, as though he were genuinely disappointed by such ignorance.
“You’d know if you’d ever left your little village, and sailed as far as I
have.” Still standing, he began unbuttoning his coat, revealing the white
ruffled shirt underneath. Tossing that aside, he began unbuttoning the shirt,
too. Those were his good clothes, after all; sex was a sweaty affair, and he
didn’t want them getting ruined.
Alfred averted his gaze as Arthur began to undress, arms crossed. “Cause it’s
not true,” he muttered, trying not to let his fear show on his face. The pirate
had to be lying but then again the man was very convincing and it was no lie
that he was very sheltered.
“You poor thing. You really don’t know anything of the outside world, do you?”
said Arthur, sliding his hand under Alfred’s chin to keep him from turning
away. By then, both his coat and his shirt were sitting atop the desk. He was
always so amused by those living in isolation from the rest of society.
Communication with the world was a difficult thing, and as far as he could
tell, it always would be. However, some groups were in smaller pockets than
others, devoid of any semblance of common sense.
“No I don’t but I’ve never seen a man getting pregnant before either!” Alfred
snapped, shaking his head free from Arthur’s grip. He had to keep denying it,
then maybe the pirate would admit he was lying. Then again he hadn’t known
anything about sex between two men, it was possible that the pirate was telling
the truth… “So it’s not funny, stop it.”
“That’s because no one in your village has ever tried. After all, your holy
book says it’s a sin. Why would they?” said Arthur, taking the tiny glimmer of
self-doubt in Alfred’s eyes and running with it. He took Alfred’s whole face
between his two palms - perhaps with a little more force than was necessary -
and planted a light kiss on his lips. “Now remove your dress, my love.”
Alfred shivered at the kiss as well as the thought of getting pregnant. It was
true, no one in his village was doing such sinful things. But the idea still
sounded so ridiculous. “N-No…” he whimpered, trying to hold back the few tears
that threatened to fall.
“No?” repeated Arthur, raising an eyebrow. Had Alfred already forgotten that he
wasn’t in a position to deny him? He took both of Alfred’s hands, deciding that
he would try to be gentle before he got forceful. After all, in the long-term,
it was much more beneficial to have a happy sex slave than an unhappy one,
especially when there were guns around. Not that Alfred would change his tune
quickly, but with the right coaxing, perhaps one day he wouldn’t have to keep
taking up space in the brig. “I can’t very well have you soiling such a
beautiful dress, though. And it’s absolutely imperative that we consummate our
new marriage. I would like my firstborn sooner rather than later.” In truth, he
already had a firstborn, technically, and a really annoying one, at that, but
he was pretty sure he’d lost the little brat back in Europe. ‘Peter’ was what
the wench had called him.
Alfred knew he had better do what Arthur was saying, knowing the man could
easily at any time go back on his promise and find his family and murder them
all. He shook such thoughts out of his head, not wanting to think about his
family, not now. Shakily he reached down and began to lift the dress, having a
bit of trouble thanks to the corset and his injuries.
“Oh, my apologies! How rude of me to forget!” said Arthur, as though he were
truly bothered by Alfred’s apparent pain. He reached down and assisted him in
removing the dress, lifting it over his shoulders and carefully folding it up
to put down in a place where it wouldn’t get damaged. They still had to find it
a buyer, after all, and something with that sort of dye was worth its weight in
gold. Even if the English colonies had fuck-all in terms of money, the Spanish
had a nice little stash in the South.
Alfred was left in the bloomers and corset, shivering a bit as the dress was
removed. Hopefully the corset would be too. Even if it wasn’t laced tightly it
still stung against his wounds on his back, rubbing against them everytime he
moved.
Arthur stepped around behind Alfred and began untying the many strings of the
corset. It would be quite entertaining to one day tighten it up to the point
where Alfred struggled to breathe - especially during copulation - but for
right then, his main priority was making sure that the bandages weren’t ruined,
and that Alfred didn’t get blood all over his bed. As with his own clothes, he
tossed the corset aside, and began to ‘help’ Alfred remove the bloomers.
Alfred sighed in relief as the corset was removed, hesitantly stepping out as
Arthur slid the bloomers down. He could feel a few tears run down his cheeks,
reaching up to wipe them away. He didn’t want to go through this again, knowing
it would just hurt even more.
“Oh, sssssh,” hushed Arthur, batting Alfred’s hands away from his face to wipe
the tears away himself. “Come now, it’s not so bad. I thought you lot were into
the whole ‘sex for reproduction’ thing.” Hopefully Alfred didn’t question where
it would come out. All potential lies regarding that issue sounded incredibly
unpleasant. “Now, down to the bed, darling.”
Alfred didn’t want to end up pregnant, that is if the pirate was even telling
the truth. He couldn’t tell, the man was able to hold such a straight face it
was impossible to figure out if he was lying or not. Slowly he got over and sat
down on the bed, not yet lying down.
Getting a little impatient, Arthur quickly removed both his trousers and pants
alike. He wasn’t at all ashamed of his body, especially not in front of a young
farmer from the colonies, of all people. Without further hesitation, he pushed
Alfred down onto the bed and sat himself comfortably between his legs, the both
of them bare and exposed.
Alfred flinched as he was pushed down onto the bed, glad at least that the
injuries were bandaged up, even if it wasn’t done too well. He was feeling so
humiliated, wanting to reach down and cover himself up despite the pirate
having already seen him nude before.
“You’ve got quite a lovely body for a farmer, you know,” commented Arthur,
tracing his fingers up Alfred’s surprisingly smooth skin. “Most of the farmers
I’ve met had several more scars and calluses.” His age was no doubt a factor.
Enough time to build muscle and toughen up the skin on the palms of his hands,
but not enough to leave time for enough accidents to mangle his flesh in any
significant way.
“Too bad I’m all scarred up now,” Alfred mumbled, shifting a bit to try and get
more comfortable on his back. He didn’t want the pirate to compliment him, it
disgusted him. He just wished Arthur would hurry up with it already, hating how
the man was dragging things out.
“Whip marks are far more attractive than sickle-based injuries. Particularly on
a lady,” he all but purred, pressing his lips to Alfred’s neck and sucking
gently. He rubbed the head of his erection against Alfred’s entrance, but
didn’t yet penetrate him. Not until he was a bit more excited. “Sort of like
the difference between fat and pregnant. One is rather undesirable, unless
you’re after the money, and the latter is quite cute.” He rubbed Alfred’s
stomach, as though in anticipation. “Not everyone can make it work, but I think
you’ll look just lovely with a baby inside of you.”
It was a lie, it had to be a lie he kept telling himself, cringing as he felt
Arthur’s cock rub against his ass. He couldn’t help but whimper again at the
sensation to his neck, hating how it sent chills up his spine.
The pirate made sure to take his time; if Alfred didn’t enjoy it, then -
according to the logic in Arthur’s lie - he wouldn’t have been successfully
‘impregnated,’ and that would just ruin all the fun. He licked his neck, his
face, and his chest, leaving trails of saliva all over his captive’s upper
body.
Goosebumps rose on Alfred’s skin as he was licked, squirming as he felt the
pirate’s tongue run across a nipple. His own cock was starting to get hard, his
mind going back to what Arthur had mentioned earlier about getting pregnant.
“S-Stop…” he sobbed, reaching up to drape an arm over his face.
“Don’t try telling me you don’t want it,” said Arthur, nipping his ear. “You
were having so much fun the other day. Making you a man was obviously a mistake
on God’s part. You would have made such a lovely lady.” There was something
about offending people on religious grounds that really got him all hot and
bothered, though he had absolutely no idea why. Perhaps it was just the feeling
of violating something that they held near and dear to themselves.
“G-God doesn’t make mistakes!” Alfred snapped, trying to push Arthur’s head
away from him. He knew Arthur was just trying to rile him up but it was
working. The man really knowing what to say to upset him.
“Throughout an entire eternity of existence, one is bound to make the
occasional error in judgment,” said Arthur, not really caring one way or
another; he’d heard of many gods and creation myths in his travels, and paid
them little heed. Whichever one happened to be correct, he was still damned,
himself. He didn’t touch Alfred’s cock; that would spoil the game. In order to
convince Alfred that he was pregnant, he would have to get him to reach his
peak without taking the easy way out. To that end, he slipped two fingers into
his captive’s tight rectum and began wiggling them about.
Alfred couldn’t help but let out a scream as he was suddenly penetrated. The
pirate hadn’t bothered with slicking his fingers up, the penetration dry and
painful. “H-Hurts…” he sobbed, muscles clenching down against the intruding
fingers.
“Forgive me, love. You’re so ladylike that I forgot you don’t slick yourself
up,” said Arthur teasingly, pulling his fingers out just long enough to spit
into his hand and stick them back in, quite unceremoniously.
Alfred wasn’t quite sure what Arthur meant by that, not bothering to ask. He
knew the pirate would just make fun of him or lie to him anyways. It still hurt
even with the spit, Alfred trying to calm himself down and relax around the
fingers.
Slowly, and as gently as he could, Arthur began to search for his little toy’s
sweet spot, buried somewhere inside his fleshy abyss. He prided himself on his
self-control, even has his hardened length demanded the warmth of Alfred’s
confines. It would all be worth it when he had an experienced pet by his side,
broken by harsh punishments and won over with affection. The human mind was a
simple mechanism. One only had to push the right buttons to have it working
their way.
"Ah..." Alfred suddenly gasped, cock twitching in pleasure as Arthur's fingers
hit something inside of him, sending sparks of pleasure through his body. He
hated how his body betrayed him, not understanding how he could be enjoying
such a thing.
“There we go. Proof that you were a mistake,” said Arthur victoriously, pushing
on that spot with the first two fingers and taking the opportunity to slide in
a third. “How else could you enjoy this so much?” It was difficult for the body
not to betray itself when you were repressed to the point of being so
completely unused to such pleasures; he found that those who masturbated
regularly had a significantly higher resistance. By comparison, Alfred didn’t
stand a chance.
Alfred had to keep reminding himself that Arthur was just saying such things to
upset him, that he shouldn't listen to the pirate. It was hard though
considering how much his body was enjoying it. God had already forsaken him,
maybe it was true that he was a mistake. That must be why such terrible things
were happening.
Arthur began to thrust his fingers in and out of Alfred’s abused entrance,
prodding the same spot every time he did so. He wanted very much to just take
his pet right then and there, especially with that adorably humiliated look on
his face. Such despairing eyes were a beautiful sight to behold, lost and
embarrassed. He’d always had a good eye for pets, at least in terms of their
quality in bed. Not so much in their attitude, as evidenced by the fact that
he’d lost every single one he’d ever captured up until that point. All of those
times, it was either because they killed themselves, or got themselves killed.
"Ah, oh God," Alfred moaned, back arching in pleasure each time Arthur's
fingers hit his prostate. He couldn't understand why it was suddenly feeling so
good, assuming it was just his body betraying him more. His mind went back to
what he was told before about getting pregnant, still unsure if it was true or
not.
“Taking the Lord’s name in vain? I know you’ve already been forsaken, but
that’s quite a turnaround,” said Arthur, just before he gave Alfred’s inner
thigh a lick. It actually was sort of impressive. Perhaps he was making faster
progress than he’d thought? The sexually repressed were always the most
interesting.
Alfred hadn’t meant to do it! He hadn’t even realized it. It seemed so small of
a sin though when compared to everything that had been happening. Even so he
knew praying for forgiveness wouldn’t work. If he was to be forgiven God
wouldn’t have abandoned him to this fate, to being a pirate’s slave.
Not that it mattered how Alfred felt. Regardless of his inner turmoil, Arthur
was busying himself by trying to get him aroused. He doubted that he would have
his new toy begging for him anytime soon - that would take much more training
and conditioning - but getting him to start enjoying himself, if only
physically, was certainly a start. He hitched both of Alfred’s legs onto one
shoulder, holding them there with his free arm, and used the other hand to keep
thrusting his fingers into his body.
Alfred bit down against his knuckles, trying to hold in any sounds that
threatened to come out. His body was enjoying it so much it really did make him
wonder if this was some predetermined fate, that there was nothing he could do
about it. “Ah,” he gasped, Arthur’s fingers hitting his prostate with every few
thrusts.
“There you go,” said Arthur, removing his fingers and trailing them along
Alfred’s thighs. He moved one leg over to the opposite shoulder so that he was
once again sitting between the both of them, and placed his cock at the
colonist’s entrance. He couldn’t wait any longer. Alfred had had enough
preparation. “Do you want it inside of you, my lovely whore?”
Alfred almost just blurted out a ‘no’, shutting his mouth and instead staying
silent. Saying yes would be a lie but saying no would make Arthur angry. It was
a lose-lose situation really. He couldn’t even help himself as he cringed a bit
when Arthur rubbed his cock against his ass, trying to prepare himself for the
pain he was about to be in.
Well, submission to his fate was close enough. Arthur plunged into him in one
go, not even giving Alfred time to adjust before he started moving his hips. As
far as he was concerned, he’d been very generous with the foreplay. Alfred had
to get used to the feeling of being stretched, because he was going to be going
through a lot of it. Especially when the crew finally got their turn with him.
Most of them weren’t ordinarily interested in men, but it was amazing what
months at sea without any sign of a woman could do to even the most adamant
heterosexual male. Particularly pirates that didn’t really care one way or the
other for the fate of their eternal souls.
Alfred couldn’t help but scream as he was penetrated, tears running down his
cheeks as the pirate thrusted in and out. He felt like he was being ripped in
two, especially since the pirate hadn’t even bothered to slick himself up
beforehand. His mind felt hazy, using all of his concentration on trying to
calm down and lessen the pain.
“You’re not very good at bearing with pain, are you?” sighed Arthur, deciding
to slow down a bit. Damn it, he’d lost his self-control, there. What about the
plan? If Alfred didn’t climax, it would be a setback not just for his training,
but for that whole pregnancy thing. Sure, it would last for about a week, at
the absolute maximum, but it was too funny to just leave be. “Surely you’ve
felt worse pain than this before.” Alfred was in for a rude awakening regarding
life on a pirate ship if he couldn’t even handle what little pain he was in
right then. At some point, he would end up getting shot, stabbed, or beaten,
either accidentally, or over the course of a battle. He wasn’t sure how good
Alfred would be at fighting - his main reason for taking him aboard had been
because he was attractive - but hopefully it would be enough to avoid getting
himself killed if they were ever boarded.
Alfred really hadn’t dealt with that much pain in his life. The occasional farm
animal attacking him or simple fighting with other boys but never anything this
painful, aside from the whipping he had gotten the other day. At least Arthur
had slowed down, giving him time to adjust around the girth inside of him.
Arthur could see that Alfred wasn’t exactly in a talkative mood, so he decided
that perhaps his own lips would be better used making his pet feel better. He
slid his tongue over Alfred’s neck, the hickey he’d left the other day having
faded. That wouldn’t do at all. Immediately, he began nibbling all over both
sides of Alfred’s neck and shoulder, determined to leave his fair share of bite
marks to remind the colonial teen just who he belonged to.
Arthur’s tongue felt so gentle compared to the pain he was feeling in his lower
body, a low groan even escaping his throat. His cock was getting hard again,
having gone soft when he had been penetrated.
“You’ll learn to like the pain,” murmured Arthur into Alfred’s ear, giving it a
quick bite. “I used to hate it too, you know. But now? There’s nothing more
thrilling than the feeling of a blade slicing your arm open in battle, or a
bullet tearing through your leg. It makes you feel alive… It makes you feel
invincible…” Uhg, he was getting all sorts of wondrous mental images of Alfred
covered in his own blood. If he didn’t stop, he would end up killing yet
another pet, and having to go find a new one in some other port was such a
hassle.
Alfred couldn’t understand how anyone could enjoy being in pain, wondering if
Arthur was just lying to him again. Although it wasn’t that crazy for someone
like him to enjoy such things but for him to enjoy pain? That would never
happen. He was starting to relax around the pirate’s cock, the pain slowly
dying down as pleasure slowly built up inside his body.
Oh, it was almost too much. As much as he prided himself on his self-control,
it all sort of went out the window in the bedroom. It took all of Arthur’s
restraint not to pin Alfred’s hands down with knives; the last thing he wanted
was to have to amputate limbs, at least so early on. He wanted Alfred’s hands
pumping his cock at some point, and that was a bit difficult with gangrene-
induced stumps. Instead, Arthur opted to continue biting into various parts of
Alfred’s upper body, from his neck, to his shoulders, to the pink nipples on
his chest.
A bit of precum leaked from Alfred’s cock, again thinking of Arthur’s words
about getting pregnant, wondering if it was true. “Ah…” he moaned out loudly,
his nipples gently toyed with by the pirate. He hoped it would be over soon, he
just wanted to roll over and go to sleep, too exhausted from everything that
had happened.
“There we go, you do like it, don’t you?” said Arthur triumphantly. He swirled
his tongue around Alfred’s nipples and sucked gently on the both of them; first
one, then the other, then back to the first again. If he could just hit that
one spot inside of him to really make him feel good, then it would be easier to
get him to reach his peak. “Mmm, such a good wife, you are. I might let you
sleep with me, later on in the pregnancy.” He wasn’t letting Alfred near his
prone form until he was completely sure that he’d been thoroughly broken and
brainwashed. He’d been through one attempted murder too many.
Alfred couldn’t help but moan even more, his chest feeling rather sensitive as
the pirate toyed with it. The bed did sound nice, although sleeping with Arthur
didn’t. The floor in the brig wasn’t very comfortable and thanks to his wounds
sleeping in a hammock wouldn’t work.
Arthur used his hands to hold Alfred’s hips firmly in place, then pressed their
lips together in a quick kiss. “Your face is such a lovely shade of red. It’s a
good look for you,” he said, trying to distract himself in an effort to put off
his own orgasm. There was no way he could finish before Alfred. It had been
humiliating enough the one time with that French bastard. To think he’d
actually allowed that fucking frog to touch him… No, he’d grown since that
awful experience all those years ago. No one bested him anymore. He was a force
to be reckoned with, and one day, all would know Arthur Kirkland as the king of
the sea.
Alfred wiped a few tears away, feeling even more embarrassed as the pirate said
that. He could feel pleasure building up inside of him, scaring him and making
him wonder if he really would reach orgasm without being touched.
Arthur began to stroke Alfred’s belly, going the extra mile to angle himself in
a way that would have his toy as pleasured as possible. He wanted to talk more,
b he wasn’t exactly in a state where he could do that. As it was, it was taking
everything he had not to wrap his hands around Alfred’s neck to see how cute he
looked when he face turned blue.
“Oh, ah…” Alfred gasped, Arthur’s cock now occasionally hitting his prostate.
It felt so good now despite the pain, Alfred wondering if he too would turn out
like the pirate, to enjoy pain like he did. He could feel himself getting
closer to orgasm, Arthur’s cock pressing against his prostate with almost every
thrust now.
“That’s right,” Arthur managed to say, sweat dripping down his brow. “Moan for
me as I fill you up.” He returned to sucking on Alfred’s neck, wanting to make
absolutely sure that his pet finished before he did. Otherwise he wouldn’t be
able to lie about him getting pregnant, at least not until the next time they
had a chance to copulate.
Alfred couldn’t help himself, back arching off the bed and a loud moan escaping
his throat as he came, his own cum splattering against his stomach. His mind
was too hazy to worry about what the pirate had said, the pain starting to come
back now that he had finished.
When he felt Alfred’s sperm hit his stomach, Arthur quickened his pace, until
he, too, had spilled his seed deep inside of the colonist’s body. He gritted
his teeth as the pleasure reached its peak, not wanting to repeat the mistake
he’d made when he accidentally ripped someone’s neck open. That had been a
messy little debacle.
Again Alfred could only cringe as he felt the other come inside of him, left
feeling disgusted and humiliated. If only he could bathe, then he could wash it
all out and for sure not be pregnant, that is if the pirate was even telling
the truth.
Slowly, Arthur pulled out, and white droplets dribbled out shortly after. “Good
lad. That’ll do the job. If that’s not enough to impregnate you, I’d be quite
surprised.” Well, no he wouldn’t be, but he wasn’t about to say that. He was a
gentleman, for certain, and he had a certain code of honor. It was still the
code of honor of a pirate, though, which, actually, sort of killed it.
Alfred reached up to cover his face, not wanting the other to see him crying
more. It was a lie he kept telling himself, becoming more and more unsure of it
each time it was brought up.
“Oh, hush. There’s no need to be upset. Good wives give their husbands lots of
children. You’re doing an excellent job,” said Arthur, patting Alfred on the
head and kissing his forehead. Such a crybaby. Sure, he’d just been kidnapped,
violated, whipped, violated again, and was continuously being threatened with
the death of his parents, but that was hardly reason to break down.
Alfred turned over onto his side, trying to hide his face from Arthur. He just
wanted to be left alone, to be taken back to the brig so he could sleep and
forget that any of this had ever happened. Maybe even form another escape
attempt, after all the ship would have to dock sometime.
“There, there,” said Arthur, looking around for some rags to clean them both
up. Unfortunately, none seemed to be present right then. Ah, well. Alfred would
be able to rinse off with a bit of seawater. “There are a couple dresses
sitting around that you can wear tomorrow. Behave yourself, and I might let you
up on the dock.” Under strict supervision, of course; preferably his own. The
men knew the routine by then. Unless something went wrong, they didn’t need him
hovering over their shoulders. His presence would be enough to keep them in
their place.
Dresses sounded terrible but it was at least better than having to walk around
completely nude. He wasn’t sure if he wanted up on dock though, knowing he’d
just be laughed at and taunted by Arthur’s crew members. “Can I get to sleep
now?”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Very well. I’ll take you back to your cell. I’ll even
make sure you get an extra pile of rags and blankets. You’re taking care of
two, now, so I want you to be careful.” Quite frankly, rags were probably more
comfortable than the hammocks most of the crew got stuck with. If anything,
Alfred was doing fairly well for himself, considering that life on a ship
wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.
Alfred slowly stood up, shivering as cum ran down between his thighs. Extra
rags sounded nice, the hard floor hurting his back a bit when he had slept on
it. He only hoped that he would be left alone for awhile in the brig but he
knew that come tomorrow the pirate would be back to torment him further.
“Easy, now. Let me clean you up. This rug came all the way from the Orient, and
I can’t have you dripping all over it,” said Arthur firmly. Surely there was
something he could use. He glanced around for a bit, then shrugged his
shoulders. Oh well. He was a pirate; he could get better clothes any time he so
desired. That rug, though… That would require a return trip to Asia. The men
were tolerant of many things, but not crossing the entire ocean because their
captain needed to pick up some frivolities. He picked up the white shirt he’d
been wearing for the wedding and used it like a rag to clean them both up.
Alfred obediently let the pirate clean him, glad at least the cum splattered on
him was being wiped away. The fear of pregnancy still lingered in his mind,
doing his best not to think about it, at least not now. He would just have to
wait and see what happened.
Arthur set the then-ruined shirt aside to put his trousers on, leaving him
topless. As for Alfred, he took his coat and put it over his shoulders to cover
him up. There was no need to have him walk the ship bare in such a state,
especially when he hadn’t done anything to warrant a punishment. “You’ve made a
lot of progress, considering we’ve only just set off,” he mused. Indeed, the
ship had begun to rock even more so than it had been doing earlier, a sure sign
that the anchor was up, and they were on their way out to sea.
Alfred just hoped they would reach land soon. Surely there was some way he
could escape when they did. He pulled the coat to cover himself more, thankful
at least that the pirate was showing some mercy.
“It’s not fitting for a lady to be out and about without clothes on,” said
Arthur, smiling cockily. “Yesterday it was fine, since you were a man. But now
that you’re my wife, I expect some decency from you.” Until he had to be
punished again, anyway.
Well...being clothed was nice although being called a woman still bothered
Alfred. He followed Arthur up onto the deck, glad to at least be left alone for
now. The brig wasn't the best place to sleep but he'd take it over sleeping
with the crew any day.
At last, they reached the stairs, after weaving through the numerous sailors
working aboard the ship. Most kept themselves busy. A few turned to look at
them, dipping their heads respectfully as Arthur passed. They understood how
things were run. They knew what would happen if they disobeyed his commands.
Arthur led Alfred back to his cell without incident, and locked the door behind
him. “If you keep up the good work, there might be some fish in it for you,
instead of just hardtack.”
Alfred walked in, sitting himself down on the rags he had been given. Fish
sounded wonderful, so did water too. "May I have some water?" He dared to ask,
hoping it wouldn't upset the other. He was just so thirsty from all of his
screaming and crying.
“Of course,” answered Arthur, bringing his arm up behind his back and assuming
a more civilized posture, despite the fact that he still lacked any sort of a
shirt. “The next port isn’t far, so there’s no need to cut rations. Feel free
to have all the water you can drink.” It wouldn’t always be like that. Once
they’d finished unloading their loot, they would be off on the high seas to
obtain more wares. The English colonies were barely a pit stop. It was the
Spanish that had all of the gold, and from what his spies had reported, they
were scheduled to send a ship back to Europe in just a few short months. That
meant it was best to start heading south, if they hoped to intercept it before
those damned privateers.
Alfred was relieved to hear that, both about the water and about docking. He
would need an escape plan, maybe somehow convince the pirate to bring him on
land. "Thanks," he said, voice hoarse. He didn't even care where the ship was
docked, just as long as he could escape and find help.
“There’s no need to thank me. I’m your husband, after all. Besides, I can’t let
the baby suffer,” said Arthur, hanging the keys up far out of Alfred’s reach.
“You’re eating for two now. You need the very best I can provide.” He stepped
away from the cell and waved. “Sleep well. Or not; it’s still early.” Not that
it was easy to tell from inside. It was dark, and there were no holes to see
into the outside world.
Alfred sighed, rubbing his eyes as he yawned. He was very tired and sleeping
was certainly better than being awake. He surely couldn't be pregnant though,
wasn't it too early to tell? He seemed to remember his own mother teaching him
such things, although her explanation had been rather vague.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Footsteps resounded throughout the room as Arthur descended down the steps to
the cell where Alfred was being held. He hadn’t gotten word of any misbehavior,
and from what he understood, the colonial seemed to be in decent shape, given
the number of lashes he’d received. As expected, the young recovered quickly,
though he certainly wasn’t close to being completely healed. Even so, Arthur
didn’t intend to let his guard down, even as he allowed Alfred a chance to
stretch his legs on deck.
Alfred had slept in Arthur's coat, keeping him warm. Before he had fallen
asleep the night before however he had felt something in one of the pockets,
realizing that the prate must have left a dagger in there by accident. It could
be another trick he knew but a weapon was a weapon and he was going to take
advantage of it. He kept it in his pocket, sitting up and rubbing his eyes as
Arthur walked in.
“I’m sorry to have woken you,” said Arthur, though his tone didn’t sound
particularly apologetic. He took the key ring off of its hook and went to
unlock Alfred’s cell. Really, Alfred ought to have been feeling grateful, in
his opinion. It wasn’t often that Arthur extended such kindness to his
prisoners. “Did you sleep well, my little lamb?” He’d since acquired a
different shirt, though it wasn’t quite as fancy as the one he’d used to wipe
semen up from between Alfred’s legs. Well, at the end of the day, it wasn’t his
only good shirt, even if it had been one of his favorites.
"I guess," Alfred yawned, rubbing his eyes some more. He would need to keep
calm if this plan had any chance of working. Slowly he stood up, hissing in
pain as his back and ass stung. All he needed was Arthur to get close to him.
"I'm in a lot of pain though."
Arthur took him by the hand and pressed his lips to Alfred’s fingers. “I’d
never have guessed. You’re looking quite fetching this morning.” Or perhaps
that was just because he was attracted to limping. It was hard to tell
sometimes. There was a fair amount of distance between them as Arthur guided
Alfred out the door. “As it turns out, one of the men spilled raw fish all over
your dress. I can assure you that their back is currently much worse off than
yours right now. I hope you don’t mind walking about in that coat just a little
longer, until we can get you a new one.”
“It’s fine,” Alfred said, sticking his hand into the pocket where the small
dagger was. He leaned in closer to the pirate now. “I feel weak,” he said,
hoping it would be a good enough excuse. He wrapped his fingers around the
handle of the dagger, suddenly pulling it out and slashing at the pirate.
Arthur was admittedly taken by surprise; unfortunately for Alfred, being so
forward had immediately been a cause for suspicion, and it quickly came
together when he saw the knife. Even as he ducked out of the way, it sliced
through his cheek; he managed to tip his head back just far enough to keep it
away from his eyes. He cursed himself for forgetting the blade in his pocket;
he never slipped up like that. In fact, he couldn’t even remember putting it in
there to begin with! Was it possible that someone had planted it there, knowing
he would use it to cover Alfred up? Was he dealing with an indirect attempt on
his life by one of his own men? His eyes narrow, Arthur grabbed Alfred by his
thumb and yanked it downwards, peeling his hand off of the handle so as to
snatch it away. To think, it had seemed like such a nice day…
Alfred screamed as his thumb was pulled back, the pirate pulling the dagger out
of his hand. He desperately tried to reach for it with his free hand, too weak
to break free of Arthur’s grip. Regret immediately washed over him, knowing
that his punishment would be a lot worse than just a whipping.
“And I was trying so very hard to be a good host,” sighed Arthur, as though
more disappointed than angered. Truth be told, he was beyond pissed off, but it
wouldn’t do to lose his temper, as he’d been known to do when he had a bit too
much rum to drink. People responded better to composed punishments. Even if it
was logically probably justified for Alfred to attempt to murder his kidnapper
and rapist, there was something about the mind that caused people to feel worse
about their actions if you spoke calmly. He shoved Alfred up against the wall
and pointed the blade straight at his chest. “How foolish of you. Have you
already forgotten who you’re dealing with, just three days in?”
Why had he even tried such a useless attempt at escaping? Alfred could only
scream again as he was shoved against the wall, sure that a few of his wounds
were reopening. He opened his mouth to utter an apology but he wasn’t sure what
to say. Nothing would make the pirate any less angry at him.
Arthur wasn’t done yet. He kept his voice down, like a parent scolding a child,
choosing instead to demonstrate his anger through his physical actions. “Did
you even think this ridiculous plot through? What did you intend to do once
you’d killed me?” he asked, lifting a single one of his large eyebrows. “Fight
your way through my entire crew? Commandeer a boat? Row back home?” Even his
previous captives had possessed the foresight to wait until they were in port
before they tried to escape. “I could never be killed by one as empty-headed as
you.” The blade he was holding up against Alfred’s chest was beginning to draw
a small amount of blood.
Alfred hissed as the blade broke skin, a bit of blood starting to run down his
chest. He hadn’t thought the plan through, he should have waited at least until
they were in port. “I-I’m sorry,” he whimpered, knowing it was useless to even
apologize.
“Of course you’re sorry,” said Arthur, his frown turning into a smirk. “You
were caught.” He would have to be punished. Arthur yanked the coat off of
Alfred’s shoulders. He had just the thing in mind. But first, he would scare
him a little. “And for your transgression, you must pay the ultimate price!” He
raised his arm, aiming the knife at Alfred’s heart, and keeping him pinned to
the wall by the neck.
Tears began to fall down Alfred’s cheeks as he saw the knife, unable to say
anything with the other’s hand wrapped around his neck, blocking off his supply
of oxygen as well. He should never have tried to escape, at least not now. He
hated how impulsive he was, never thinking things through.
“But I’m a sporting fellow,” Arthur continued, smiling maliciously. “So I’ll
give you one chance to convince me that you’re worth keeping alive. Give me one
reason that I shouldn’t cut out your heart and feed your corpse to the sharks.”
He loved the look of fear in their eyes, as all the hope was drained from their
souls. It was such a beautiful thing, greater than any fine art.
Alfred honestly wasn’t sure how to answer, trying to think of something,
anything. “B-Because...I’m your wife,” he muttered, hating those words but it
was all he could think of.
So he wasn’t quite as dimwitted as he’d made himself out to be. “Good boy. I
suppose I can’t go killing the mother of my child, at least while you’re still
pregnant.” He wasn’t going to let that go. Not until Alfred finally figured it
out. Briefly, he wondered if it would be practical to try to fatten him up to
keep it going on even longer, but that wasn’t very practical. Not when he had a
whole crew to feed. “But I’m not quite done with you yet.”
Alfred sighed in relief at that, not wanting to die just yet. Still, he
wondered what the pirate would do to him now. Another whipping? His old wounds
weren’t healed yet, if he was whipped again he’d probably lose too much blood.
Arthur thought for a moment about how many of his men he could spare, and how
many would actually want to participate. He was certain he could get at least
ten or so to assist him with Alfred’s punishment, if not more who just wanted
to take a break from working. It wasn’t world-ending if they had to anchor the
ship; they weren’t terribly far from land. “Come along with me.”
“Wh-Where are you taking me?” Alfred asked, not bothering to resist as he
walked along behind Arthur. Fighting back would only make his punishment worse
after all. As they headed above on deck he was certain he would be getting the
whip again, reaching up to wipe a few tears away.
Arthur didn’t respond. Instead, he guided Alfred up onto deck, without any form
of clothing, and shoved him out into the open where most of the crew was either
busy keeping watch, cleaning, sailing the ship, or taking a brief respite.
Being a gentleman, Arthur didn’t shout to get their attention. Instead, he
merely raised his pistol, and fired it into the air.
Alfred flinched as he heard the gunshot, not used to such loud noises like
that. He reached down to cover his vital regions, fear rising in him as he
started to get an idea of what was about to happen. He remembered the crew
members saying that Arthur would let them have their way with him. Thinking
about it only made him want the whip instead.
“Listen up,” said Arthur as all heads turned to his direction. “It seems that
my wife has seen fit to make an attempt on my life with a blade that ended up
in my coat.” There it was. In the back. He could see the glimmer of
disappointment in the eyes of two or three, apparently not having expected that
he would survive the ordeal. “A knife that I didn’t put there. However, the
matter of which of you will be punished for mutiny shall be postponed, pending
an investigation. For now, all those of whom would like to volunteer for my
wife’s punishment should report to the bow immediately. Those that aren’t
interested may take turns keeping watch and taking a break. The rum stores will
be open, but be aware that anyone found drinking themselves to the point where
they can no longer work properly will have their pay docked.”
Alfred’s suspicions were right as he listened to Arthur talk. There was nothing
he could do either, surrounded by ocean on all sides of the ship and a crew who
would do nothing to help him. “Please! Don’t do this,” he sobbed, turning to
look at the pirate. Doing such sinful things with one person was enough, but
the entire crew? He wasn’t sure he could handle it.
“Quiet,” snapped Arthur, reaching up to seize Alfred by the hair. It hardly
mattered that he was, admittedly, the shorter of the two. Alfred may have been
feisty, but he was inexperienced. “Would you rather I execute you for attempted
murder, little lamb?”
Already, the men were lowering the anchor. Thankfully, the weather was good,
and the seas calm, though they would be prepared to postpone Alfred’s
punishment if things went south. Most of them rushed down to get their fair
share of alcohol. A few of the more experienced men chose to take the first
watch, unwilling to be hanged because they passed out when it was their turn. A
smaller handful of about twelve men followed Arthur and Alfred to the front of
the ship; there wasn’t enough space to do such a thing inside, after all. Not
with all of them at once.
Alfred obediently walked with Arthur, not that he had much of a choice. He
could see some crew members following them, noticing just how many were coming.
He felt like throwing up partly due to fear and partly over thinking about what
was about to happen. He still hurt from the night before, knowing that after
this he would be in even way more pain.
“Honestly, I’m surprised your morals were lenient enough to allow you to try to
kill me,” said Arthur casually, running the flat of the blade against his hand
and pressing his fingers to the cut in his cheek, the blood having begun to run
down his face. It stung a little, but he’d suffered far worse. Once you’d been
impaled a couple of times, tiny little cuts were nothing. If anything, it was
more embarrassing that the first injury in six months had been inflicted by an
untrained, unskilled prisoner. If a gun had been in that coat… He was already
formulating ways to punish the perpetrators. They would die for their errors.
He could let Alfred off lightly; he was still new, and was there against his
will. Such things were to be expected. But he couldn’t allow people that were
out and about, working his ship and getting paid to do so plotting against him.
Notably, he saw none of the guilty-looking party from before in the group.
While Alfred was being taken care of, he would confront them. If they could
survive losing a few toes, and maybe their genitalia, and could somehow make it
back to shore after they were dumped overboard, they would be free to go. He
was a sporting fellow, after all.
Alfred kept his gaze down, too frightened to look at the pirate or the several
crew members in front of him. He couldn’t help himself as he started to sob,
shoulders trembling and hands covering his vital regions.
“Can’t even be bothered to respond? That’s fine. A good wife knows when to hold
her tongue,” said Arthur, putting the blade in his pocket. As much as he wanted
to watch, he had business to take care of. He would come back once the traitors
were dealt with. With the group gathered, he turned to look at them and began
to speak. “I don’t want him dead, is that clear? If one of you kills him,
intentionally or by mistake, I’ll dull my blade and use it to cut your balls
off. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir!” said several voices in unison, and he could see already that a few
were regretting their decision to join in.
“Good. Aside from that, don’t hold back.”
Alfred felt like throwing up, not even looking at the men as they began to near
him. He hated how he had to be so impulsive and attack Arthur like that. He
should have waited until they were docked and just tried to run off. He
hiccuped, his sobs getting louder. Hopefully it would be over soon.
The first to grab him was one of the younger, more impulsive men, who didn’t
appear to be that much older than Alfred. “I don’t really get what the captain
sees in him,” he muttered, having seized Alfred’s face to look him over, as
though we were inspecting a horse. “He’s too old to be able to pass off as a
woman. Not from in front, and not from behind.”
“You should have had your fill when we were back in port,” said one of the
older ones, who seemed to be in his mid-thirties. “You can’t bring a real woman
into battle on a ship. Bad luck, that.”
Alfred tried to shake his head free of the man’s grip, turning his head to the
side. His entire body was trembling as he sobbed, unable to even voice any
begging. Hopefully they wouldn’t hurt him too badly, he couldn’t stand to be in
much more pain.
“Don’t try escaping!” said the pirate, letting go only to strike him across the
face. “I commend you for having the courage to make an attempt on the captain’s
life, but you’ll soon know all too well why nobody ever stages a mutiny on this
ship.”
The older pirate grabbed him in a bear hug from behind. “Well, I was on-duty
during the raid, so I’m going to make do with what we have.” He wasn’t quite as
‘intimate’ as Arthur, if it could be called that; there wasn’t any kissing, or
licking, or biting. He simply dragged Alfred down to the wooden floor and
pinned him there, face-down.
Alfred hadn’t been expecting to be shoved down, screaming as he slammed against
the hard wood floor. He weakly struggled to break his arms free from the
other’s grip, knowing it was pointless. Even if he broke free he wouldn’t be
able to escape.
“You may as well stop squirming,” mused one of the men, kneeling down beside
him and lowering his trousers. He had a colonial accent like Alfred’s, instead
of a mainland one like the others. “You’re not doing yourself any favors.” If
nothing else, Arthur’s crew was diverse. “Where do you think you’re going to
run? Struggling will just make it worse.”
“Oh, but that’s half the fun!” said another, grabbing him by the shoulders. The
one pinning Alfred down got off, allowing the other to slip underneath him so
that they were chest to chest, with Alfred straddling his waist.
“You’re going to look at him from the front while we do this?”
“A hole’s a hole. I don’t particularly care whose it is.”
It felt awkward to have someone underneath him, his hands on the man’s chest as
he held himself up a bit. “Wh-What are you..?” he cut off, unable to hold back
his sobbing. It was so humiliating, the other crew members around them were
laughing at him too, that or pulling out their hard cocks.
The pirate beneath him pressed his erection to Alfred’s hole, then moved his
hands to Alfred’s hips to keep him in place. “Go on. Put it in like a good
whore, if you don’t want a beating.” One of the others was already stroking
himself to hardness; whether or not it was clear to Alfred, they didn’t exactly
intend to take turns.
Alfred flinched, his body shying away from the man’s cock. He was still so
sore, and being penetrated dryly again would most likely tear him. “P-Please
don’t,” he whimpered, tears streaking down his face, a few landing on the man’s
chest underneath him.
“Either do it yourself, or this will be even worse for you!” said one of the
men behind him, grabbing him by the hair to pull his head back. “I wonder how
many can fit inside of you at once…”
One of the men who hadn’t spoken up since they began choice that moment to say
something. “Actually, I don’t think you can fit more than two, if only because
there wouldn’t be space for another person’s body to-”
One of the others whacked him. “It’s a threat! You’re not supposed to take it
that seriously!”
“...Right, sorry.”
Wait, two? He was going to have two of the men inside of him at the same time?
Was that even possible? Just one hurt enough already he couldn’t even begin to
imagine how two would feel. “Th-They won’t fit!” he shouted out desperately,
unable to bring himself down onto the other’s cock.
“Too slow,” sighed the pirate beneath him. He pulled down on Alfred’s hips,
forcing it in dry, and leaned back against the deck with a satisfied sigh.
“There we go…” It was fun to hear them whine and complain. There was no doubt
in his mind that Alfred would be dead by the end of the year, either because he
screwed up when Arthur was in a bad mood, or because Arthur accidentally killed
him with all of his implements of torture.
Alfred’s eyes shot open in pain as he was penetrated, being forced all the way
down until he had all of the man’s cock inside of him. It hurt about as much as
it did last night, although his ass was still rather sore.
“Good, now ride it like you’d ride a horse,” ordered the man he was seated on
top of. “You know how to ride, don’t you? Or did your papa not want your
delicate lady-bits getting damaged?” The others laughed, even though it wasn’t
really that funny. The man tried moving Alfred’s hips upwards, urging him to
start bouncing.
Yes, Alfred had ridden horses before, although he couldn’t really say much in
his current state. Slowly he moved his hips up as he was directed, the friction
burning his insides. All he could do was let the man guide his hips, using his
own hands to brace himself on the other’s chest.
A couple people clapped their hands and continued laughing, as though they were
at the theatre to watch a play. The man behind Alfred was getting into
position, though he waited a few minutes before he actually motioned for the
man on the ground to stop Alfred’s movement so he could position himself.
Alfred felt himself suddenly stop moving, his hips pulled up so that he was
only about halfway down on the man’s cock now. He opened his eyes again as he
felt something nudge at his entrance.”N-No, no please no,” he sobbed, tears
falling down onto the man’s chest below him.
“I’ve killed hundreds of people that begged like you are right now,” said the
man behind him, grinning sadistically. “Do you honestly think it’ll do any good
to beg for mercy over something as small as this?”
The same one that had gotten whacked earlier piped up again. “Hundreds? I don’t
think your kill count is that hi-” He was interrupted by the back of someone’s
hand meeting his face.
The spat going on behind him probably would have amused Alfred if not for his
predicament. Instead of he just wished that they’d shut up and get on with it
instead of delaying the inevitable. Or they could knock each other out and he
could be free from this punishment, although he knew that wasn’t going to
happen.
The second pirate, with his cock pressed against Alfred’s already-stretched
hole, began to press in. Or, rather, he attempted to. It wasn’t going so well.
Try as he did to fit it in, it was impossible for him to submerge even the tip.
“What are you doing? Get on with it!” said the pirate on the deck, eager to get
moving again.
“I’m trying! It won’t fit!” said the second, clearly somewhat frustrated.
“Usually they’re a bit looser by the time Arthur is willing to let anyone else
have a turn…”
“I told you it wouldn’t fit!” Alfred screamed, getting rather angry at the
pirate kept unsuccessfully trying to penetrate him. He had only been on the
ship for a few days how loose were they expecting him to be?
“It’s because you’re going in dry, you idiot!” snapped the pirate on the
ground. “Hang on, get him to suck on it first.”
“Good idea,” agreed the second pirate, standing up and walking around to place
the tip of his cock at Alfred’s lips. Sweat dripped down from his brow onto
Alfred, an unfortunate effect of both the hard work and the hot sun.
Alfred obediently opened his mouth, taking in the man’s cock. It tasted
terrible, probably a side affect of them being at sea most of the time. He was
probably rather disgusting too he figured, knowing he hadn’t bathed since
Arthur had fucked him.
The pirate in Alfred’s mouth rolled his hips forward and sighed. “That is good.
If only you had a prettier face,” he said, turning down to look at the young
captive. He wasn’t ugly, or anything, but his face was quite blatantly
masculine. He would never understand how their captain found such things
attractive. Still, the feeling of power over another individual enticed him
onwards, even if that individual was unquestionably male. Besides, it never got
old to see all of Arthur’s poor conquests forced to walk about in women’s
clothing.
Alfred gagged a bit, pulling his head back as the pirate thrusted in. If they
all found him so ugly then why were they even doing this? He couldn’t
understand it except that these men just enjoyed seeing him suffer.
“That’s enough, I think,” said the pirate, pulling himself out of Alfred’s
mouth to go kneel behind him, placing his then-wettened cock at his pulsating
hole once more. As he began to push, it was still a struggle. Just getting the
head in took a lot of effort, even as the one who was already in pulled out
slightly to help him.
Pain tore through Alfred’s entire body, his screams even louder than before. He
felt like he was slowly being split in half, feeling a bit of blood trickle
down between his thighs. Was he going to die? The pain was enough to make him
think so.
“Quit screaming,” barked one of the men, coming up from the side. “For God’s
sake, I’ve seen men get stabbed through the heart that cried less than you!”
“Maybe he really is a woman,” joked one of the men, and the rest of them
laughed once more.
“Worse than that. We did this to dozens of the women back in his village, and
even they weren’t this pathetic. His damned mother held up better than this.”
It took Alfred a minute to realize what the pirate had said, his eyes going
wide in shock. “Y-You did what?” he screamed, craning his head to look at the
man currently penetrating him from behind. Not to his own mother right? Arthur
said his family would be spared!
Technically, they had no way of knowing it was his mom, but the pirate had
years of experience learning how to upset people. Blades and guns weren’t the
only weapons; sometimes, words were far more damaging. “Yes, that’s right. I
fucked your dear old mum, just like this. But in the end, she liked it, just
like you will.”
The pirate from earlier that kept getting smacked looked a little appalled, as
though even he thought that such a thing was going too far, but he kept his
mouth shut that time.
“Y-You’re lying!” Alfred screamed, refusing to believe such a thing. He could
never tell what was truth and what wasn’t with these people, starting to feel
nauseous at the thought of his poor mother suffering like this.
“Wasn’t he there for it? I thought we fucked them both together,” said one of
the men, a bit confused.
“That’s impossible. Arthur took him back to the ship before then.”
“But I could have sworn there was a woman and another person who looked just
like him…”
The pirate behind Alfred grinned and pulled on his hair. “Really? I wonder if
they were related…” He jerked his hips forward, moving in sync with the man
below him.
Alfred grunted at the thrusting, more tears running down his face. The pirates
had done this to his brother as well? He didn’t want to think about it, bile
rising in his throat as he was unable to hold it back, a mix of stomach acid
and the small amount of food Alfred had been given landing on the man’s chest
beneath him.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” screamed the man beneath Alfred, quite visibly pissed
off. Most of the others began laughing, several practically in tears. “Get him
off of me!”
The one behind Alfred groaned and pulled out, wrapping his arms around Alfred’s
chest to keep him still and give the person that had been beneath him a chance
to pull out and get out of the fray. “Someone pull up a bucket of water before
he drips vomit all over the deck.”
“That little son of a bitch!” hissed the pirate covered in Alfred’s bodily
fluids. He whipped a knife out of his pocket and pointed it at the captive’s
throat. “I’ll kill you, you whore!”
“Take a deep breath, now… You don’t want the captain to cut your balls off over
some whore’s vomit, do you?” said one of the other men quickly, trying to calm
the man down through his own laughter.
Alfred was relieved at least as the two men pulled out, not even feeling bad
for throwing up on the other. It was what he deserved really for saying and
doing such things. “Y-You did such things to my mother and brother you
monster!” he screamed at the pirate holding the blade to him, too angry to care
about the fact that he could be killed at that very moment. He hoped it was a
lie, that the pirates had just seen his family and they were making this up
just to upset him.
“Obviously,” said the man behind him, rolling his eyes. “We’re pirates, not
saints. What did you expect? The captain told us not to kill anyone, but that
doesn’t mean we’re going to let them go.” One would almost think that screaming
would somehow turn back time. “Now shut up, rinse your mouth out, and open
wide!” He slammed his cock back into Alfred’s confines, and one of the other
men reluctantly crawled beneath him to take up the position the person who’d
been vomited on had freed up. At the same time, a pirate shoved a bucket of
saltwater against Alfred’s lips to get him to rinse.
He held in his screaming as he was penetrated again, opening his mouth and
eagerly accepting the salt water, even if it was disgusting. He swished it a
bit before simply spitting onto the wood floor next to him, not caring much for
manners at the moment. “A-Are they safe though?” Alfred asked, hoping that they
were at least able to get away.
“Physically? Yes,” answered the new man below him, before someone else could
lie and prompt Alfred to throw up again.
“Probably pregnant, though,” chuckled one of the others, only for the man on
the deck to shoot them a death glare.
It wasn’t long before Alfred was once again filled by two cocks. The blood
dripped down their sweaty sacks and fell to the deck below, which would no
doubt require a thorough scrubbing after the whole thing was said and done.
Well...at least they were alive Alfred figured, wishing he could find them,
apologize to them. He knew it wasn’t his fault but he still felt like it was.
Had his family done something bad? They were good people. They went to church
every week, had never done anything really bad. “Sh-Shut up,” he whimpered, not
wanting to hear anymore about it.
The pirates thrust into his hot cavern, getting sweat and grease all over his
body. Another one off to the side grabbed at Alfred’s hand and guided it up to
his cock. “Start stroking, you slut,” he ordered, another coming over from the
other side for the other hand, expecting the same treatment. Jeers and insults
came from all sides, making fun of everything from him, to his family, and to
his religion.
Alfred had a bit of a hard time holding himself up now that both of his hands
were busy, clumsily stroking the other’s cocks. Their insults and laughter made
the entire situation worse. He could have dealt with the physical pain, but
their insults were getting to him, fresh tears falling down onto the pirate
below him.
The pirate beneath him was a bit bothered by the tears, but he figured that
they were better than vomit. No, the real problem was when someone decided to
stand over him, facing Alfred, and giving him a perfect view of their hairy
ass. “Hey! What are you doing?”
“Using his mouth, obviously,” said the man standing over him, pushing his cock
up against Alfred’s mouth as the man from before had.
“What? No! Not from this angle! Stand off to the side!” said the pirate on the
deck, eye twitching with frustration. “I’d rather look at his face than any
part of you.”
Alfred parted his lips like before, taking in the head of the man’s cock. He
didn’t go down any further, listening to the two of them argue with each other.
It would probably have been rather amusing if not for his current situation.
The man standing over the one on the floor thrust into Alfred’s mouth, holding
him by the back of the head all the while. Down below, the one stuck staring at
his unpleasant behind - which was, unfortunately, beginning to drip sweat all
over him - could only close his eyes and pretend he was alone with a beautiful
prostitute. It was a bit difficult, considering the distinct feeling of
somebody else’s cock rubbing against his.
Alfred coughed as the man's cock thrusted into his mouth, gagging a bit and
hoping he wouldn't throw up again. The men would surely kill him if he did. If
only he hadn't tried to stab Arthur, knowing it had been an incredibly stupid
idea.
With Alfred’s ass, mouth, and hands in use, there didn’t seem to be anything
else for the remaining men to use. One of them made a valiant effort to fit his
cock in Alfred’s mouth with the other one - much to the disdain of the
unfortunate pirate stuck with his back on the deck, staring at both of their
misshapen bottoms - but found it too difficult to fit in the end. Instead, the
majority opted to masturbate over his body, occasionally slapping him across
the face with their genitalia for the sole sake of humiliating him.
Alfred’s mouth simply couldn’t open that wide for two cocks, the first one
already stretching his mouth out. He kept his eyes screwed tightly shut,
feeling flesh slapping him in the face and on other various parts of his body.
He didn’t even realize that his cock was starting to get hard, feeling the men
inside of him brush up against his prostate.
“Oh, you’ll never believe this!” said one of the men, pointing downwards at
Alfred and laughing heartily. “He likes it! He actually likes it!”
“The captain certainly knows how to pick out the freaks,” commented another.
The man at Alfred’s mouth tilted his head back and groaned, and a burst of his
seed was shot into Alfred’s mouth, coating his tongue. A few other splatters of
the sticky white substance met the skin of his face, and dripped down his
forehead and cheeks to the underside of his chin.
IIt tasted terrible, Alfred spitting the man’s cum out as his cock was pulled
from his mouth. He wasn’t a freak, his body was just betraying him. Right? Or
did he actually enjoy all of this? He honestly couldn’t tell anymore. His mind
went back to what Arthur had told him about getting pregnant. If he came again
would he be pregnant with more than one child? He really wasn’t sure how it all
worked, or if it was even true.
Unfortunately for the man on the deck, relief over the hairy ass in his face
being moved out of the way turned to horror when what Alfred spit out ended up
getting sprayed all over his abdomen. “Oh, come on…” he groaned, especially as
another ugly butt took the place of the previous one, the next man’s hard
length forced into Alfred’s waiting mouth.
“Such a whore,” chuckled the pirate behind him, reaching around to pinch
Alfred’s nipples. “It would have been a crime to let you get married to another
woman like yourself.”
Alfred whimpered as his chest was toyed with, sending small sparks of pleasure
straight to his cock. He gagged again as another cock was forced down his
throat, wondering just how long these men would keep this up. Surely they were
close to done, right?
The men thrusting into Alfred’s shredded hole began to speed the pace of their
movements, even as the one beneath him was forced to stare at both the splatter
of some other guy’s sperm on his body in disgust.
“I wonder if you can get him to reach his limit without touching him,” said one
of the pirates, slapping Alfred’s face with his cock for the umpteenth time.
Some of the men began smiling deviously, having heard the lie that he’d been
told by Arthur, and wondering just how far they could take it.
No, no he couldn’t let it happen again. He hated it, there was no way he would
come without being touched! Still, as the pain slowly died down pleasure built
up inside of him, a bit of precum dripping from his cock. He had to get out of
here somehow, had to escape even if it meant jumping into the ocean and
swimming until he found land.
The man behind him reached around with his other arm, so that he was squeezing
both of Alfred’s nipples at once, pulling and twisting them with no regard for
how much it hurt. Several more splatters of cum covered Alfred’s body, a few
getting into his caramel-blonde hair, and some on his wrists from the two he
was being forced to use his hands on.
Alfred moaned around the cock in his mouth, unable to control himself. Despite
how disgusted he felt with the other’s sticky cum splattered over his body he
was still aroused, his cock begging to be touched.
“Aww, how adorable, his face is so red! Look at how much he loves it!” jeered
one of the men, their seed shooting out to mix with the rest of the sperm all
over Alfred’s face. “Make him swallow it! I bet he’ll like that!”
The one in Alfred’s mouth seemed to like the idea, because when he reached
orgasm, he kept himself fully sheathed in Alfred’s mouth, not allowing him to
spit it out like he had the last time. Meanwhile, the people pounding into him
from behind weren’t letting up, and one of them released their load deep inside
of him, though it was difficult to figure out just which one it was until the
man on the deck lifted him up to pull out.
Alfred was relieved when one of the man exited him, although he felt disgusted
as the other shot his cum down his throat, forcing him to swallow it all. Were
they almost done? He hoped so, he wanted them to finish before he had a chance
to.
It was hardly over, though. Almost as quickly as the other had departed,
another man took his place underneath Alfred, and shoved his erection into
Alfred without hesitation. The blood was beginning to turn gooey and make
movement rather difficult, but the sperm still inside of him managed to keep
him slick enough.
Alfred felt numb, blood trickling down his thighs as he was again forcefully
penetrated. He felt like passing out, his mind getting hazy. Despite that
though his cock was still hard and he could feel his orgasm approaching.
No mercy was shown as he was assaulted from all ends. When one man finished up,
someone else quickly took their place. One of the pirates slapped Alfred on the
wrist to get him to speed the movement of his hand over their cock, while
others continued coating him in a thick layer of semen all over his face and
chest.
It was hard for Alfred to stay coordinated enough to stroke the crew members
off, his movements slow and awkward. It felt like this punishment was going to
last forever, that it would never end.
The man behind him, who’d somehow lasted through the whole thing, breathed into
Alfred’s ear and laughed. “Come, now, aren’t you at your limit? Doesn’t it feel
good to have two deep inside of you? I want you to cum to the thought of your
belly full of bastard children.”
Alfred shivered as he felt the man’s breath against his ear. It was oddly
arousing and the attention to his chest wasn’t helping. He knew he was close,
unable to stop as he moaned out around the cock in his mouth, his cum
splattering onto the man beneath him.
There had already been some stifled laughter, but the sight of Alfred’s orgasm
had the group of pirates erupt into a fit of mirth. Some of the ones who’d
already gotten off rubbed their boots against his limp cock, a couple going so
far as to kick him lightly in the balls. From that point, things slowly began
wrapping up, as those who hadn’t already reached completion did so, either over
his body, or inside of him. His mouth was quickly filled with sperm, and the
two men pounding into his abused hole finished shortly after.
The kicking was definitely painful, causing Alfred to scream out as pain shot
up to his stomach from where he had been kicked. He could barely feel the other
men come, his mind too hazy. He knew he was going to pass out soon, rather
thankful that he would.
At last, they pulled out, dumping his abused body off to the side while they
cleaned themselves up and chatted with one another about the day. They rinsed
themselves off with buckets of saltwater, and some were even ‘kind’ enough to
dump a few on Alfred’s sperm-covered body, too. They didn’t pay too much
attention to him after that, though; he seemed too weak to be capable of
actually doing anything, and they had to hurry up and clean up the mess they’d
made if they didn’t want to be on the wrong end of the whip.
Alfred fell to the hard floor as he was thrown off of the other men, curling up
as he quietly began to sob. The water dumped on him didn’t do much, it really
just made him feel worse. He couldn’t even feel like he could walk, hoping
someone would at least carry him down so he could get some sleep.
Getting him back into his cell was one of the last things on their minds,
particularly as a sudden screech erupted across the ship. It was followed by
another, and another, until those on board were all turning their heads in the
direction of what sounded like three men screaming like small children. One of
the pirates that hadn’t participated in Alfred’s abuse ran around with a shell-
shocked look on his face.
“The captain found the people who slipped the knife into the coat he gave that
brat,” was his only explanation. The others, suddenly understanding, only
nodded and got back to work, the noise a reminder of just why it was that
nobody usually crossed him in the first place.
Alfred couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for whoever Arthur had just killed,
curling up even more. He felt sickened as he felt cum drip from his abused
backside. He felt absolutely covered in the stuff, as if no amount of bathing
would get rid of it.
The minutes ticked on by, and Alfred’s body went mostly disregarded on the
floor. Eventually, the screaming died down, the mutineers having apparently run
out of the will to go on living. Either that, or Arthur had decided to be
merciful enough to grant them a slightly quicker death than usual. The latter
possibility seemed less likely as the captain himself rounded the corner to
check up on things, his clothes absolutely soaked with fresh blood. It was
everywhere, from his shoulders to his boots. Some had even gotten into his hair
and dried up, and he idly sifted his fingers through the mess as he sized up
the situation.
His first course of action was to take a closer look at Alfred’s body and give
it a light kick. “Good,” he said, noticing the slight rise and fall of his
captive’s chest. “For a moment, I thought they’d killed you.”
Alfred wasn’t unconscious yet, flinching as he was kicked. He didn’t respond to
Arthur, not even bothering to look at the man. He was too humiliated, too
embarrassed to even look the other in the eyes. He wanted to sleep, he didn’t
even care about bathing he was too exhausted for anything but to curl up alone
and fall asleep.
Arthur sighed as he realized he was going to have to carry Alfred back to his
cell. He was still partially-coated in sperm, even as the men occasionally
dumped buckets of saltwater over his limp body. “Sit up so I can clean you up.
Come on,” he ordered, taking off his bloodstained shirt, then removing the
slightly-stained undershirt beneath that and flipping it inside-out. “You’d
better be grateful. I’m wasting a lot of my clothing cleaning semen off of
you.” He would have used the rag, but all the ones that were available were
being used to clean up the mess he’d left of the mutineers.
Alfred slowly sat up as told, sitting on his knees instead of his ass. He was
grateful to be cleaned up, knowing he would probably throw up again if he
wasn’t. He wondered if he should ask Arthur about his family, if all of those
things had really happened but he knew it was pointless. The pirate seemed to
be constantly lying to him.
Arthur took another one of the buckets of water handed to him by one of his men
and dumped it over Alfred’s head. Even with his back turned, he trusted that
they wouldn’t dare to attack him. Not just out of fear, but because the
majority of them respected him as a leader and felt no reason to rebel. Still,
the events of the day had him even more wary than usual, and he glanced down
into the water as though to make sure nothing dangerous would suddenly spring
out at him before he used it. He used his shirt to wipe off the sperm that
coated Alfred’s body like a second skin, using his fingers to try to squeeze
out what had gotten in his hair. When they were closer to land, he decided, he
would have to have Alfred disembark to bathe in the sea. Such was the problem
with having a whore on board; it wasn’t easy to get them cleaned up when you
were done with them, especially after such an ordeal.
“So,” he asked dryly. “Did you have fun?”
"No," Alfred responded, voice hoarse from all of his screaming. The salt water
stung against his wounds, wishing he had some normal water to bathe with. "You
crew said they attacked my family," he needed to know if it was true, that is
if Arthur even knew about that.
“Well, of course they did,” answered Arthur unsympathetically, as though it
were obvious. “I told you they wouldn’t be killed if you didn’t fight back, and
they weren’t. Although, now that you’ve attempted to stab me, it’s not as
though I should be compelled to hold up my end of the bargain any longer.”
Fortunately for Alfred, it was too much trouble to sail all the way back just
to murder his family.
Alfred began to sob again, his shoulders trembling as he reached up to cover
his face with a hand. "Please don't hurt them," he begged, hoping his poor
mother and brother were okay, that they had escaped and found somewhere new to
call home.
“Perhaps you should have thought about that before you tried to murder your
loving husband,” said Arthur, tossing the used shirt aside and giving Alfred a
final rinse with a bucket of water, just to get rid of any final traces of
semen. “Not that it’s entirely your fault. Worry not; those responsible for the
brunt of the matter have been dealt with accordingly.” With Alfred mostly
clean, he slipped his arms underneath him to pick him up off of the ground. He
was heavier than Arthur had anticipated, but he didn’t have much trouble
lifting him. He was stronger than he looked, as several had found out the hard
way in the past.
Alfred winced as he was lifted, way too sore to even think of standing up.
Blood and cum still trickled down his thighs, landing on the wood beneath him.
"I-I'm sorry," he whimpered, shivering in the cool air. He leaned against the
pirate for support, hating how close he was to the man.
Well, the lesson seemed to have been learned - if only temporarily - so there
was no use beating a dead horse. “It isn’t as though you could have succeeded,
anyway,” said Arthur, turning to start heading back to the cell. It would be
tricky to get Alfred through the narrow corridors of the ship in such a
position, but not impossible; he would just have to sidle through. “Even if by
some miracle you’d managed to stab me, I’ve survived far worse than mere
blades.” He didn’t like to think of himself as obtrusively proud, but he was
far from humble about his experiences. “I could go back on my word, as you went
back on yours, but lucky for you, I’m a gentleman. I’m willing to forgive you
just this once so long as it doesn’t happen again.”
Alfred nodded, closing his eyes as he was carried. He knew he shouldn't be
planning his next escape attempt but he couldn't go on much longer on the ship.
He'd go insane for sure. Hell he would be willing to swim to shore next time
the ship docked. He at least knew how to swim.
Arthur couldn’t help but find the resigned look on Alfred’s face rather
endearing, despite himself. Sure, the man had just tried to kill him earlier,
but to be fair, the vast majority of people he met for the first time usually
tried to kill him. Except Francis, but that was because he’d been trying to get
in his pants. “How about I show you something before I take you back to your
cell, hm? Just a quick detour. Don’t fret, it doesn’t involve sex. I’m sure
you’ve had quite enough of that for today.”
Alfred was relieved that it wasn't sex, although whatever the pirate had to
show him couldn't be good. "Sure," he mumbled, knowing he would be shown
anyways. He would need to be nice and obedient for awhile, maybe have the
pirate let his guard down before his next escape.
“Good,” said Arthur, strolling over to the portside gunwale and holding Alfred
up against it to look out over the sea. Even though the ship was anchored, the
waves continued lapping at the hull like thirsty dogs. A cool breeze blew on
by, though it didn’t do much to dry off Alfred’s wet, dripping body. “Isn’t it
beautiful?” The ocean sparkled under the sun, which still hung high in the sky
over in the east.
It really was beautiful Alfred thought, finding the statement a bit strange
coming from the pirate. It actually felt...nice. The wind in his hair, the
smell of the sea, he knew he'd really enjoy such a view if not for his
situation.
“You seem rather quiet,” said Arthur, looking over Alfred’s face one last time
to make sure there was no more sperm on it before he leaned down to give him a
kiss on the forehead. To an outside viewer, there was probably something to be
said for just how bizarre the scene was; after all, his trousers were still
covered in blood, and Alfred was still naked. Still, for him, it was all in a
day’s work. “I have a question for you, my little dove. Purely to sate my own
curiosity. If, at some point in the future, we were captured by an English
vessel, would you be able to kill the people coming after you to save your own
skin? After all,” he added, staring out at the sea, “as far as they would be
concerned, you’re just as much a pirate as the rest of us. If you’re captured,
they will seek the death penalty.”
Kill someone? Sure Alfred had just tried to stab the other but what the pirate
was describing seemed impossible. Surely if they were caught he could tell them
his story, and they would take pity on him. He kept quiet, choosing not to
answer and instead looked back at the ocean.
“Can’t answer?” said the pirate, smirking. “That’s fine. Neither could I, when
I was first pressed into this life. But worry not. Sooner or later, you’ll grow
desensitized to death.” He took a deep breath, allowing himself to take in the
ocean air, then stepped back with Alfred still in his arms. “I was going to let
you walk the ship with me today to give you a chance to stretch your legs, but
it’s clear you still need some time to adjust back in your cell. Maybe next
time, hm?” Arthur began the descent down the steep steps to the brig.
Alfred preferred the cell to being on deck anyways. At least down there no one
was around to humiliate or make fun of him. He wasn't even sure if he could
walk in his current state, his ass horribly stinging in pain. He did have to
wonder though what made Arthur become a pirate but he'd ask another day, he
just wanted to be alone right now.
Arthur pushed the metal door open with his foot and set Alfred down gently on
top of the rags. “Well, I certainly hope you didn’t enjoy yourself so much we
end up having several children to lug around in nine months. Might have to dump
them all in the ocean,” joked Arthur, closing the door and locking it behind
him. He wouldn’t really do such a thing; pirate though he was, he didn’t kill
children. It wasn’t very sporting to murder something that couldn’t defend
itself. Even one as annoying as the boy that resulted from that one-night stand
with a barmaid back in London.
The room went dark as Arthur shut the door, Alfred left sitting there in
silence. He was too worried to sleep, wondering if Arthur said was true. Would
be really have several children now? And if he did would the pirate really
drown them? Alfred was still so unsure about everything, lying down on the pile
of rags he had been given. It really didn’t take long for him to fall asleep,
too exhausted to stay awake despite his fears.
***** Chapter 5 *****
It was another calm day at sea, and they were expected to arrive at their
destination by the end of the day. Arthur was, to put it mildly, getting a
little bored. It was nice to have everything go well, but there was something
thrilling about the feeling of rallying everyone together in the rain, or
grasping desperately at a rope or something while the waves threatened to shove
you right out into the sea. Others looked at him like he was crazy when he
described his affinity for terrible situations, and they were probably right.
It didn’t stop him from tossing them overboard, though.
Once more, Arthur found himself descending into the brig to collect his
favorite - and only, at that particular point in time - prisoner.
Alfred had slept rather soundly, still asleep as Arthur came down. He awoke as
light suddenly entered the room, hearing footsteps. His entire body felt sore,
possibly even worse than how it had felt the day before. Sleeping on the hard
floor didn’t help much either, grateful for the rags he had been given.
Arthur looked into the cell and, for the first time in weeks, smiled non-
condescendingly at Alfred’s helpless form. All things considered, he’d
acclimated quite well to life on a boat. Well, he was still deeply traumatized,
of course, but he had yet to throw up or lose his balance on the rocking
vessel. He was lucky the sea had been good to them; Arthur had a feeling he
wouldn’t be so relaxed the first the the weather turned bad. He took the key
ring off of its hook and unlocked the cell door.
Alfred sat up as Arthur entered, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He didn’t
bother with a greeting, waiting for the pirate to talk first. He wasn’t really
in the mood to give any pleasant hellos, especially with how terrible he was
feeling.
“Good morning, my darling. Are you feeling well enough to walk today?” asked
Arthur, stepping inside and bending over to press his hand to Alfred’s
forehead. He didn’t seem sick. A good thing, since Arthur hoped to get through
that day without any more incidents coming up. He glanced down at Alfred’s pile
of rags and sifted through them; even though Alfred was bare, he didn’t want to
deal with any more knives. Or worse, a gun. The gash on his face had already
scabbed over, but bullet wounds took a bit longer to recover from.
“I don’t know,” Alfred muttered, legs feeling like noodles. He honestly just
wanted to spend the day resting in his cell and having something to eat
although hardtack wasn’t on his list of food he ever wanted to try again.
“Surely you want a chance to stretch your legs,” said Arthur, setting down a
tidy little pile of folded-up clothing on the floor beside Alfred. Some of the
men had brought back a few articles of women’s clothing from Alfred’s village;
they were cheap, and a bit on the worn side, but they would do. Some of the men
would get upset if he provided his personal whore with better clothing than
them, perhaps rightfully so. “I promise you won’t have to provide any special
favors today, so long as you do as you’re told and refrain from attempted
murder. Unless you really want to, of course.”
That was a relief at least, his body way too sore to be doing anything like
that. He looked at the clothing, a plain dress, the type his village wore. He
was at least thankful for something to cover him up, even if it was a dress,
corset, and some bloomers.
“Well? Get dressed, if you can stand. Would you like assistance, darling?”
asked Arthur, petting Alfred’s head and standing up, himself. “I was hoping you
could accompany me for the day so I can show you how things work on this ship.
After all, you never know when an emergency will come up that might require you
to have some basic knowledge of the procedures we have to follow out here.”
Especially if they headed back to Europe at any point. He was actually looking
forward to a trip back to London, maybe at the end of the year. The Americas
got a bit tiring after awhile.
Alfred slowly stood up, legs shaking a bit. “I-I need some help,” he mumbled,
crossing his arms and shivering a bit. He’d especially need help with the
corset that he hoped Arthur wouldn’t lace too tightly. His back still stung
from the whipping he had gotten.
“Of course, darling,” said Arthur, a bit too nicely. He wrapped the corset
around Alfred’s bandaged form, pleased to see that the wounds seemed to be
healing up nicely, though they were still far from completely gone. He knew
better than to lace it up too tightly, but he pulled the strings just a bit
further than the last time. They would take it in steps, until he could span
his newfound wife’s waist with his hands. Or, well, perhaps not quite that far,
because that was a bit creepy. But it was interesting to see the aesthetic
results of having it on a male body.
Alfred gasped as the corset was tightened, wincing in pain. It was tighter than
before but luckily he was still able to easily breathe in it. He would remain
obedient for now, gain Arthur’s trust before he attempted escape again. He
needed time to heal anyways, knowing there was no way he could escape in his
current condition.
“There’s a good lad. You’ll get used to it,” Arthur assured him, stroking his
hair as one would a dog. He helped Alfred step into the bloomers, then draped
the dress over his body. It was plain, but it looked rather fetching on him,
though there was still the problem of shoes. He hadn’t checked the bottoms of
Alfred’s feet, and didn’t know whether or not he would be able to handle being
barefoot on the deck on such a hot day. It had been cool during the wedding,
and the day after it, but the sun had decided that morning to beat down on them
with a vengeance. There were always the shoes he’d worn when he’d gotten onto
the ship, but masculine shoes would clash with the dress.
Alfred tugged the dress down, at least glad he wasn’t going to be walking
around nude. Not that it mattered considering most of the crew had already seen
him naked. It was strange how kind Arthur was acting, it had to be a trick he
figured. Surely the pirate had something terrible planned for him.
As soon as Alfred was fully dressed, Arthur did a quick pat-down to make sure
there weren’t any weapons on his person, then stood up straight and looked him
over. “My dear, you look simply ravishing!” he said, cupping the young
Puritan’s face in his cheeks. “I do apologize for yesterday, but it couldn’t be
helped. Mutiny is a serious offense. I hope you won’t hold it against me.” He
took Alfred by the hand and guided him out of the cell.
Alfred pulled his head away from Arthur’s grip, of course not forgiving the
other. He’d never forgive Arthur for what happened! Slowly he walked up the
steps with Arthur, gripping the man’s hand tightly.
“I can see you aren’t in a talkative mood again,” said Arthur, guiding Alfred
out onto the deck where the men were hard at work keeping the ship moving
towards the next port. “However, I’m afraid I have some questions that must be
answered. The first one being whether or not you’ve ever been on a ship before
this.” He seemed to recall Alfred mentioning, or at least hinting that he
hadn’t in the past, when they first met, but he asked just to be on the safe
side.
Alfred shook his head no, refusing to talk especially after the pirate’s
sarcastic comment. He had always wanted to go to a ship but never had been
before Arthur had kidnapped him. It felt so strange to have something he had
wanted to do for so long come true only for it to be an absolute nightmare.
“Well, then,” said Arthur, not surprised in the least. He’d had plenty of men
aboard who’d never been on a ship before. Everyone had to start somewhere, and
though he usually preferred to take in more experienced men, sometimes their
enthusiasm was enough. In Alfred’s case, though, he just had the fortune -
well, misfortune, really - of being good-looking. “How much do you know about
ships?”
“Not much at all,” Alfred muttered, arms crossed in front of his chest.
Considering he had never been on one he’d never learnt much about them. Most of
his time was spent helping on his family’s farm after all.
“No need to sound so cross. I only ask so that I know where to begin, little
lamb,” said Arthur, deciding it was probably best to try to brighten Alfred’s
mood. He’d already driven a few people to suicide in the past. Some had been
actual members of the crew. That had been annoying. “We’ll start small. The
front of the ship is known as the bow.” He motioned towards the front. “The
back is the stern. Are these familiar terms for you, or is this new
information?”
“No, I know all of those,” Alfred mumbled, having heard enough sailor talk in
his lifetime. It came with life so near the sea although he was always told to
avoid such people. Sinners his parents had called them.
“Okay, good. So we don’t have to start at the very beginning,” said Arthur, a
little relieved. “So if I were to tell you to go aft, which direction would you
go?” If Alfred did well, perhaps he would allow him to dine by his side in the
captain’s quarters later that day. A bit of rum would help to numb his back
pain.
Alfred had to think for a second before responding. “Uh, to the back of the
ship?” he asked, not entirely sure if he was correct. Still it was nice to
learn these terms, even if Arthur was the one teaching him. It took his mind
off of everything else at least.
“Excellent work. You’ll be as good as any of my men before you know it!” said
Arthur, nodding approvingly. Well, he had a passing knowledge of ships and
terminology, it seemed, so the captain decided to ask a few other questions
before they got to anything even slightly more advanced. Before anything else,
he wanted to get a feel for all of Alfred’s skills, if he had any at all. “Has
your father ever taken you hunting? Or, rather, do you know how to properly
handle a gun?”
Alfred’s family didn’t have much need for hunting, having raised their own
animals. “No. We were a farm so we raised our own livestock,” he knew how to
kill certain livestock but not how to handle a gun. He knew though that any gun
he’d be using on this ship wouldn’t be for hunting though.
“Not even for self-defense? Out here?” said Arthur, a bit surprised. It seemed
like at least half of the colonists had guns, understandably so; they were on a
frontier, parked right next to a bunch of savages further out west. However, he
supposed it wasn’t quite as dangerous further east, with the inland colonies
serving as buffer zones. “You do understand the basic mechanics, though, don’t
you? That being which direction to point it, and how the trigger works.” He
didn’t expect someone with minimal exposure to know how you were supposed to
hold it, or how to aim at something out of point-blank range, but he really
didn’t want to explain that no, you weren’t supposed to look down the bloody
barrel while it was loaded.
Alfred nodded. He wasn’t that stupid he knew you were supposed to point the gun
at the enemy and then pull the trigger but that was about it. His parents had
owned guns but he and his brother had yet to be taught how to handle one.
“Well, then, let’s see just how well you can do,” said Arthur, reaching into
his coat to pull out a pair of revolvers he’d brought along for just such an
occasion. One for Alfred, to test his skill, and one for him, as insurance
against his pet attempting to get away again. “Just remember, if you shoot me,
you still have the rest of the crew to contend with, and no way to get to shore
even if you do miraculously manage to kill them all. So, with that reminder out
of the way…” He looked around for something to target. They did have some old,
ripped-up sailcloths they’d been using as rags. “You there!” he ordered one of
the men that didn’t seem to have anything to do. “Fetch the old sailcloths and
some ink.”
“Aye, captain.”
Alfred carefully held the gun, looking it over. Yes the idea of shooting the
pirate did run through his mind but he knew Arthur’s words were true. Not to
mention that the pirate would easily be able to shoot him first if he dared try
to murder him. The knowledge could come in handy though for any future escape
attempts.
The man who’d been sent to retrieve the sailcloths didn’t take long to return.
He looked at Arthur warily as he handed them over. “Are you sure it’s a good
idea to teach him how to shoot?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing in
Alfred’s direction. “What if he-”
“I have to handle dozens of men with years of experience on a daily basis,”
answered Arthur curtly, taking the cloth and looking around for an out-of-the-
way rope to hang it over, ideally one that didn’t have anything behind it. Just
such a few seemed to be hanging diagonally between the gunwale and a large
stack of crates. He strolled over to tie them more securely into place. “Are
you telling me that you can’t handle one young maiden who’s never even gone
hunting before?”
“U-uh, no, sir!” said the man quickly, backing off.
“Good,” said Arthur, hanging the sailcloth over the rope as one would hang
clothes on a clothesline, creating something to shoot. From there, he dabbed a
glob of ink at the very center, forming a target, and headed back to Alfred’s
side while the other man scurried off. “See how close you can get to that dot.”
Alfred nodded, unsure of how to exactly hold the gun. Taking a guess he held it
up with his right hand, putting his pointer finger on the trigger. He took aim
at the cloth and shot, a hole tearing through one of the corners of it. He had
missed, badly. But it was to be expected of someone who didn’t even know how to
properly hold a gun.
“Not bad,” said Arthur, nodding his head. “I’m impressed that you didn’t miss
completely. There’s something to be said for that.” He took Alfred’s hands and
guided them into place. “You’ve got the first hand right, but a beginner should
use both hands, to keep steady. Try not to flinch from the noise, and remember
to take the direction of the wind into account. If it’s blowing west, and
you’re shooting north, you want to aim slightly to the east.” He traded guns
with Alfred, so he could reload it while his captive tried a second time. “Go
on, give it another go.”
Alfred nodded, holding up the gun again, using both hands this time. His ears
still stung a bit from the first shot. He did his best to aim, pulling the
trigger and seeing the side of the cloth blow off this time. It was hard to
keep so steady, especially with the loud noise it made when he shot.
“Good work. Don’t beat yourself up too badly; these things aren’t as accurate
as some would have you believe, even in the hands of an expert,” said Arthur,
swapping his reloaded gun for Alfred’s blank one. He reloaded it quickly, in
the space of only a few moments, then took aim at the cloth and fired. The
bullet tore through a few centimeters away from the dot in the center. “Try
just once more. Breathe deeply. Hold your breath, if it helps. There’s more to
think about than just lining up the barrel with the target. Remember the wind,
and keep your balance during the recoil.”
Alfred nodded again, holding up the gun and taking another shot. He landed
about as far away as he had his previous shot, another hole ripping through the
cloth. At least he wasn’t completely missing the thing he thought to himself.
His inexperience clearly showed, but at such a distance, it was rather
impressive that he never once missed the cloth entirely. Arthur took both guns
back and placed them back in their holsters. “You’ve certainly got potential,
and some decent instincts. With a little training, I’ve no doubt that you’ll
improve.” Sure, he was the resident whore, but it would be a waste of resources
to have him simply take up space in a cell for the rest of his days.
The compliments were nice at least, making Alfred feel a bit proud of himself.
He would have liked to keep shooting but didn’t bother asking as Arthur took
the gun. “What now?” he asked, wondering what else the pirate should show him.
Arthur wasn’t a fool, and he caught the slightly disappointed glint in Alfred’s
eye as he removed the gun. At least he was eager to learn, though probably not
for the reasons the captain wanted him to. “We’ll resume your gun training
another day. For now, you should learn how the ship works. We’ll start below
deck, with the cannons. Come along, darling.” He would wait until a little
later when more of his men were on break and things were a little less crowded
to show Alfred everything else. Though, even then, it would be just a brief
explanation; when he trusted Alfred enough not to have him under constant
supervision, his main duties would probably include such mundane tasks as
swabbing the deck and keeping things orderly, learning the ins and outs by
watching the others. Or at least, that was the plan. Most of his toys were dead
by that point.
Alfred followed the other, having to descend the stairs slowly thank to his
corset and the pain he was still in. The walking was helping his limbs
unstiffen a bit although his backside and the wounds on his back still stung.
He had to admit he was a bit excited to see the cannons, never having seen one
be shot before.
Given how valuable cannonballs were, especially in comparison to bullets,
Arthur didn’t intend to show them off in action. However, that didn’t mean he
couldn’t demonstrate how they worked. Arthur guided him down the steps, though
not quite as deep as usual, and into the room they went. It was full of crates
and barrels, as well as innumerable tools for upkeep. There were a few men on
duty, and a few using their break to get out of the hot sun, but it was
relatively crowd-free at that particular point in time. “Here we are,” said
Arthur, placing his hand on one of the many cannons lining the walls.
Alfred followed, looking the other way from the crew members. He was still
humiliated from the other day, hoping none of them would say anything as he
walked in. He looked at the cannon, realizing it was a bit larger than he had
imagined.
“Impressed?” asked Arthur, sifting his fingers idly through Alfred’s hair.
“Don’t be. They rarely get put to use. If they are, then it’s a sign
something’s gone wrong. Not to say we don’t have experience with them, or
aren’t trained in their use. However, it’s typically much less expensive to run
up a flag indicating an emergency and let some poor bleeding heart come to us
than it is to engage in naval combat.” They were pirates, after all. They
didn’t play fair.
Well, fighting did sound bad, and dangerous. Alfred would prefer to stay out of
danger the best he could while on the ship. It was still interesting to see at
least. Plus seeing the ship meant no more sex, at least for now.
“Unfortunately,” Arthur continued, “they’ll likely see ample use in the coming
months when we attempt to secure the Spaniards’ gold. Given how often they’re
raided by government-sponsored privateers, they won’t be likely to simply give
us the gold and go. For that reason, I want you ready in the likely event that
we’re boarded. It would be depressing if you were killed simply because you
didn’t know how to shoot accurately for more than a meter in front of you.”
Rather than frighten his little pet, he opted to begin going over proper cannon
use. “First, a cannon has to be primed…” He motioned to the various areas of
the device as he spoke, slowly going over each and every step.
Alfred listened the best he could, already new escape plans forming in his
mind. Could he get one of the Spanish to help him? After all surely he could
convince them he wasn’t with the pirates. It had to be obvious that he wasn’t
there of his own free will. He turned his attention back to Arthur however,
knowing that it was important to learn such things.
“...then you simply repeat the process. At least two people are usually
required per cannon, and there’s always the risk of the enemy’s cannons
striking you back through the ship. This vessel is fast enough, and our
tacticians intelligent enough that we ordinarily manage to avoid it coming to
that, but as you can plainly see from the state of repair, sometimes it’s
unavoidable,” concluded Arthur, gesturing towards the wooden walls. Some
sections of it were old and somewhat splintered, while others looked much
newer, implying that there had been some repair work. “You shouldn’t worry
yourself so much, though. We go through enough drills to know how to minimize
the damage done. That said, I’ve heard talk that some of the trees this side of
the sea have wood as sturdy as iron… I’ve yet to see it for myself, but I’d
certainly love to acquire a ship made out of such a material, if it were true.”
Alfred couldn’t help but space out a bit as Arthur rambled on. The cannons
weren’t as interesting as he had hoped, although it made sense that Arthur
couldn't just go firing them off for no reason. Ammo was limited after all.
Listening to him go on was better than anything else that had happened to him
so far, giving the occasional nod to make it look like he was listening.
“With that out of the way,” continued Arthur, waving his hand to indicate that
Alfred was to follow him, “we can continue to the next part of your lessons. I
would rather we postpone the workings of the ship until around noon, when there
are fewer men at work. So, since you looked so bored during the last lecture, I
was thinking that perhaps we could return to something more interesting.”
“More...interesting?” Alfred asked, not liking the sound of that. He hadn’t
meant to look bored! He just had a short attention span. His mind immediately
began thinking of what it could be, trying to shake those thoughts away.
Arthur hadn’t meant it like that, but the look on Alfred’s face was absolutely
delightful. “Yes, more interesting. We’ll have to go back up on deck, first.
Somewhere out-of-the-way, where there won’t be anybody to bother us.” He knew
he was being an absolute bastard, but, well, he was a thief, rapist, and a
murderer. Really, Alfred was getting off easy.
Alfred nodded, following the pirate back up on deck. Oh god he hoped he was
wrong with what he was thinking. He wished he could hide his fear better,
knowing it must be written all over his face. “Wh-What are we gonna do?”
Arthur led Alfred back to the relatively open space where he’d been brutalized
by the men the previous day, and brought his lips to his wife’s ear
suggestively. “I think you know what we’re going to do, little lamb…”
Alfred shivered, pulling away from the pirate. “B-But…” Arthur was showing him
around the ship. He had been good hadn’t he? Why was the pirate threatening
this now?
“That’s right, it’s time for some fencing practice!” said Arthur cheerfully,
pulling back and drawing his rapier. “Or, rather, since I could easily kill
you, I’ll simply remain on the defensive while you try to strike me, for now.
Don’t worry about being punished for cutting me; if someone as inexperienced as
you can manage that much, then I don’t deserve to be captain to begin with.” He
looked around for someone else in the area. One of the men was whistling ‘To
Anacreon in Heaven’ and scrubbing the deck. Arthur reached down to take his
blade and hand it to Alfred. “I’d like to borrow this for the time being, if
you don’t mind.”
The man washing the deck simply shrugged and resumed his whistling. Arthur
couldn’t quite understand why, but there was something about that tune that
struck him as rather irritating, as though, in some alternate universe, it was
a constant reminder of some great loss. But that was silly. He shrugged it off
and turned back to Alfred.
Alfred took the rapier in hand, rather unsure of how to hold it. It seemed so
dangerous to be pointing one at the pirate. Even if the man said he wouldn’t be
punished if he managed to cut him Alfred was still worried.
“Now, do you know the name of this particular blade?” asked Arthur, holding up
his rapier and assuming a combat-ready stance to demonstrate both the proper
grip and position that one was supposed to assume.
“No,” Alfred said, trying to mirror Arthur’s stance with holding the blade. It
was heavier than he thought it would be, although he still had an easy time
holding it.
“This is known as a rapier,” explained Arthur, giving Alfred some time to get
his footing. “It’s lightweight, intended for unarmed, one-on-one combat. Unlike
some blades, your intention with the rapier is not to hack and slash at your
opponent. The primary use is to stab.” He demonstrated a stabbing motion, off
to the side and away from Alfred. “Give it a go. Try to stab me.”
Alfred felt a bit nervous about being told to try and stab the other, shakily
holding his sword like Arthur had and lunging forward, going a bit slower than
he should have. After all god forbid he end up severely hurting Arthur.
 
Arthur rolled his eyes at Alfred’s hesitance, easily batting the sword out of
the way as it came towards him. “I know I punished you when you attempted to
murder me before, but this is a sparring session. I want you to come at me with
everything you have. I’m explicitly giving you permission to attempt to kill
me.” Perhaps he just needed some motivation. “If you can kill me, you’re free
to go. The men will turn the ship around, and bring you home. I promise you
that, with that man over there as my witness.” He looked at the man scrubbing
the floor, who looked up irritably.
“I have a name, you know!” said the pirate.
Alfred didn’t believe for one second that he could actually kill the pirate.
The man must have fenced dozens of times whereas this was his first time. It
was all just an attempt to tease him he knew. Pulling his sword back he lunged
at the pirate again, this time not hesitating.
Predictably enough, Arthur parried Alfred’s sword without so much as breaking a
sweat. At least he was trying, though. “You’re telegraphing your movements when
you go to attack me,” explained Arthur. “Try not to stare directly at the
location you intend to stab; use your peripheral vision, and use smaller
movements when you come forward that don’t give me as much time to react.”
Alfred nodded, taking a few steps back. It was hard not to look at where he
intended to stab, trying to focus his eyes behind Arthur. Readying his sword he
lunged forward again, this time a bit stronger than before.
“Much better!” said Arthur, though he still knocked Alfred’s sword away from
his body before it got close. “You learn quickly. That’s a valuable talent.” He
looked up at the sun in order to estimate the time. “Try it once more, and then
we’ll go to my quarters for something to eat, hm? You must be starving.” He
began circling around Alfred, to see how he performed with a moving target. It
was an introductory day, after all, and he wasn’t really trying to give Alfred
an in-depth lesson so much as he was trying to gauge his natural skill. So far,
he seemed reasonably talented with a sizable potential, at least more so than
he’d expected of a born-and-raised farmer. “Just remember, self-control is
imperative. You don’t want to simply come at me with all your might; you’ll use
up all your strength. Or worse.”
Food sounded great, Alfred realizing that his stomach was growling. He followed
Arthur as the man began to move, doing his best to concentrate. Once he was
sure he could get the other he lunged forward at the pirate only to have the
other move at the last second and his sword cutting into one of the other crew
members legs, giving him a rather large, if not shallow, cut.
“FUCK!” yelped the pirate whose leg had just been sliced open by the blade.
“You fucking bitch!”
Arthur pressed the tip of his sword against Alfred’s back, unimpressed. “You’re
much stronger and faster than I thought, certainly, but you lack the necessary
self-control. No matter. You will improve with time. Time, and humility.” He
sheathed his rapier and stepped up to where the sailor was sitting, evaluating
the status of the wound. “How does it look?”
“It’s - nngh! - fine, sir!” said the man quickly, getting to his feet and
limping a few steps. “I can still work!”
“I admire your tenacity, but I can’t have you dying on me,” said Arthur, taking
a closer look for himself. “Go have someone else take over your shift, and have
that looked at.” The ship’s doctor would know about such things more than he
did. “Alfred, please return his sword and apologize.”
Alfred looked at the man, noticing it had been one of the men from the other
night, from his punishment. He looked the other way, holding out his sword. He
didn’t feel bad anymore though, if anything he was glad the other was in pain.
“S-Sorry,” he muttered, obviously not meaning it.
“Fucking whore,” muttered the pirate, snatching his sword back and shuffling
off.
“That’s one of the least sincere apologies I’ve ever heard,” said Arthur,
taking Alfred by the hand and chuckling. “Second only to me. Come along, my
lovely maiden. I think it’s about time we got ourselves some lunch, wouldn’t
you agree?” He didn’t tell Alfred just yet about his impending punishment.
After all, that would spoil the meal.
Lunch did sound good, his stomach rumbling again at the mention of it. He
wanted to tell Arthur why he wasn’t sorry but figured the pirate wouldn’t
really care. Whatever, he had apologized like he had been told.
“So, Alfred, seeing as you live so close to the coast, I was wondering how much
fish you consume on a regular basis,” said Arthur, leading Alfred back to the
captain’s quarters through the door between the two staircases to the bridge.
As much as he hated the ridiculous over-abundance of corn, with its irritating
tendency to become lodged between his teeth, he had a fondness for the fish in
the area. “If you have a seat, I’ll get something freshly-cooked from the
kitchens for the both of us, hm?” It wasn’t like there was anywhere to run off
to.
Alfred sat down, glad to be hearing about having something other than hardtack.
“Yeah I ate a lot of fish,” he liked it too. He wasn’t really picky about what
he ate, well except for the hardtack. “What are you getting us?” he asked,
simply curious about what had been cooking.
“It really depends on what we’ve caught. Probably something such as haddock, or
mackerel,” answered Arthur, standing by the door to leave. “Don’t do anything
stupid, and try not to break anything. I know things are a bit tight, but some
of these items are quite valuable.” He took a step back and closed the door,
leaving Alfred alone and free of any restraints.
Alfred wasn’t stupid, he knew actually getting up and breaking anything would
get him in trouble. The last thing he needed right now was to have the pirate
mad at him again. So he obediently waited on Arthur, staying still in his seat
at the table.
Arthur didn’t take too long, and returned with not only a single plate full of
fish and - unfortunately - two ears of corn on the side. A lavish meal,
especially on a ship, but being so close to port for the time made it possible.
In his other hand, he held a bottle of rum, both of which he set down on the
small table in the center of the room before shutting and locking the door
behind him. He placed a pair of glasses out for both of them, and poured the
rum into both before he sat down across from Alfred.
“Uhm, I’ve never had alcohol before,” Alfred said, watching as the pirate
prepared their meal. The food looked good and he sure did love corn. Too bad he
wasn’t getting any water. He doubted the alcohol would quench his thirst.
“If you don’t wish to drink it, I will,” said Arthur, gulping down the whole
glass in one go. “It’s an acquired taste.” He reached into his pocket and took
out two forks; one for him, and one for Alfred. “How well-off was your family,
out of curiosity?” It wasn’t really a proper question, but then again, it
wasn’t really a proper situation.
“Uh, fine I guess. We were farmers so we had plenty of food and money,” They
weren’t poor that was for sure, although they were far from being rich. Average
could probably describe it best. “And can I just have some water?”
Arthur swapped glasses with Alfred, then stood up, headed for a barrel in the
corner of the room, opened it up, and dipped it in, until it was full of water.
He then closed the barrel, and set the glass down beside Alfred. “It may still
taste a bit like alcohol from the residue. I hope that’s fine. Perhaps after
you’ve gotten over your thirst, you could try a little. It may help with the
pain.” He took another sip of rum, though he made sure to drink far slower,
that time. Not even he could pull that off again. As much as he’d tried to
build up a resistance to the effects of alcohol, particularly after a certain
incident involving that sleazy Frenchman and his wine, his tolerance of it
still wasn’t any higher than around the average for the men on his ship.
"It's fine," Alfred said, taking a sip of the water. He'd avoid the rum for
now, not knowing how it would affect him since he had never drank before.
Setting his glass down he started to eat from the corn. It wasn't the best but
then again he was used to fresh food.
Arthur shrugged. He’d been hoping Alfred would try a little, or a lot, and
maybe even get himself drunk. It would make it so much easier to punish him if
he couldn’t tell up from down. Oh well. He would push for it a little more once
he was finished with his drink. “So, since this is our first meal as a couple,
I’d quite like you to tell me a little about yourself. What was your home life
like?” Knowing more about a person made it easier to manipulate them.
Alfred really didn’t want to talk about his family, hell he didn’t even want to
think about them. “Not too interesting. My brother and I would help around on
the farm a lot.” he had actually enjoyed some of the farm work, something that
couldn’t be said about his brother. “We were a pretty happy family.”
“Oh, really? No problems at all?” asked Arthur, taking a piece of the haddock
and leaving the corn for Alfred. What he really longed for was some of the meat
that was so much more abundant overseas. All the damnable nobles kept the vast
majority of the available hunting grounds for themselves back home. The people
of the colonies didn’t have such hang-ups. Well, pros and cons to any place, he
supposed. “I suppose I didn’t have any issues with my family, either.”
“Then why become a pirate?” Alfred asked in a low voice, taking another bite of
corn. His family could have continued being happy too if Arthur wouldn’t have
come along and ruined everything. Even if he managed to escape there was no
telling if he would even be able to find them again.
Arthur shrugged. “Well, I didn’t have any issues with my family because they
were all dead,” he answered. “My mother from smallpox, my father from suicide
after he went into debt.” The idea of killing oneself seemed a bit of a cop-
out, to him. “I had some older brothers, of course. Two were soldiers. Another
died in surgery, when one of his wounds began to fester.”
Alfred felt a tinge of sympathy for the pirate, well, until he remembered what
the man had done to his family. “So after losing your family you found it fun
to make others lose theirs as well?” he asked bitterly, setting down the fork
he had been eating with.
“It’s not quite that simple,” said Arthur, chuckling at the very idea. He
wasn’t out to make others miserable. That was just petty. He was out for
fortune and glory. “My father was the last to die. With such a large amount of
debt, they could do nothing but seize all of our assets. Myself included.
Eventually, I ended up working as an indentured servant in some wealthy slob’s
fishing industry…” He wasn’t quite sure why he was telling Alfred anything. Not
that he had anything to hide; it was just that he’d sort of come hoping for
answers from his new wife, not the other way around. Well, perhaps after a bit
of alcohol, he’d loosen up and reveal something with which Arthur could
manipulate him. “I hated it, more than anything else in the world. I’d grown up
in a modest household, certainly, but never had I been made to handle such
unpleasant tasks as handling thousands of dead fish before then.”
Alfred still felt very little sympathy for the pirate. Just because one had
misfortune in life doesn’t mean they can go out causing others misfortune. “So
what made you decide it’d be fun to go around murdering and kidnapping people?”
he asked, a bit curious as to what made the pirate into who he was. One would
think that after losing their family they wouldn’t want others to feel the
same.
Arthur didn’t answer directly; he simply continued to speak. “After a few
years, when I was, oh, fourteen, or so, I had my first introduction to life on
the sea. Rather than simply cleaning fish, they took me on the boat with them,
to learn the trade. I was overjoyed, at first; as boring as fishing is, it was
much more exciting than what I’d been doing up until then.” A scowl crossed his
face, his bushy eyebrows furrowing. “It was that day that I was introduced to
piracy. As soon as we were out at sea, we were attacked by a French sloop. With
no weaponry, and no combat skill, we were easy prey for a ship desperate for
new crew members.”
It was rather irritating to have his questions be ignored but Alfred figured
the pirate would eventually get to it. He took the time to eat some more as
Arthur talked, wondering what had happened that day. Had something similar
happened to Arthur that had happened to him? It made him wonder.
“The captain was intolerable,” said Arthur, the anger at the memories enough to
have him gulping down another glass of rum, alcohol tolerance be damned. “An
absolute frog. I hated him from the moment our eyes first met. He kept flirting
with absolutely everyone! There was simply no shame, and I don’t think there
was a person on that ship that he hadn’t fucked. And to make matters worse, he
set his sights on me! Me! Every opportunity he got, he was trying to get me to
bend over and be his prissy little whore!” He took a deep breath, trying to
calm himself down. “As much as I hated him, I couldn’t deny that he was a good
captain, though. His skill in combat was unmatched, and I was always eager to
learn everything he had to teach. Even if that meant participating in acts I
don’t care to remember.” Was there hypocrisy in his words? Probably. But Alfred
was far more the type for such things than he was, really. Besides, he’d picked
Alfred up with the idea of his main purpose being his whore in mind. Francis
had simply wanted to bang a member of his crew. “So I learned. Planned a
mutiny. Failed. Slipped away with my supporters. Captured a ship. And the rest
is history. Still, I yearn to encounter him again, so I can run my blade
through his heart.”
“You sound a lot like him really,” Alfred remarked, taking a sip of his water.
He knew it was wrong to think but a small part of him had hoped that the pirate
Arthur was talking about had done such things with him. Not that he cared about
being right anymore, he was already damned to hell as it was.
The wine glass shattered in Arthur’s hand. “What did you just say?” he asked,
his voice low, like an animal that was about to pounce. “Because it sounded to
me as though you just compared me to Francis Bonnefoy.” Nobody compared him to
Francis. Those who’d been with him long enough to have been on that ship with
him knew that much. “Do go on. I’m eager to hear your reasoning.”
“Well. You’re cruel, you’re using me as a whore, much like he tried to do to
you,” Alfred said, glaring back at the pirate. He knew he would get in trouble
and he knew he would hate himself later for doing this but damn if it didn’t
feel good to piss the pirate off. “Sounds like denial to me.”
“Nonsense,” said Arthur, laughing and pouring himself another glass of rum,
with a new cup that he hadn’t just shattered. “I was brought aboard
specifically to be a member of the crew, for one. For another, believe it or
not, but I’m treating you infinitely better than I was treated on that God-
forsaken ship.” He could still remember the humiliation he’d endured on a daily
basis, even when he’d done nothing wrong. The way that the bastard would just
look for excuses to sexually humiliate him in front of the whole crew, or the
way he’d pierced his left ear as a mark of his ‘ownership.’ “But if you want me
to demonstrate the difference, then I will gladly do so.” He stood up. “After
all, you still have to be punished for your little fencing accident, don’t
you?”
“H-Hey, that had been an accident!” Alfred yelled, having almost forgotten
about the entire thing. “Besides look. You’re just looking for excuses to
humiliate me as well!” to him Arthur and this Francis person didn’t seem very
different. “You’re just getting so upset because you know I’m right.”
“You know nothing!” snapped Arthur, stepping around the table to wrap his hands
around Alfred’s throat. “Women should be seen and not heard, wouldn’t you
agree?” He pressed his thumb against Alfred’s windpipe and squeezed, while
simultaneously pulling him out of the chair and dragging him to the bed.
Alfred had been expecting Arthur to snap, and while it hurt having his air cut
off, left gagging and struggling under the pirates grip, it did feel good to
have upset the other. His feet shuffled along after Arthur, stumbling as he was
dragged over to the bed.
Arthur slammed Alfred’s head against the wall. “So, you think it was exactly
the same for me as it was for you, do you? Since you’re so certain that we’re
the same, it shouldn’t matter if I do what he did.” He held Alfred against the
wall with his arm, then began lifting up his dress to pull it up over his body
and strip him down.
“Fine, go ahead and prove it to me,” Alfred grunted, gasping for air as his
neck was released. He tugged weakly at the ropes binding him to the bed,
knowing he had better brace himself for the torture the pirate was about to
give him.
Alfred had little choice but to go along with it as his clothing was removed
piece by piece; by the time all was said and done, the only thing remaining was
the corset, which Arthur left there solely because he knew removing it would
provide his pet with relief. He grabbed his trusty rope and, with one knee
pinning Alfred’s body to the bed, released his throat to start tying his wrists
to the bed yet again. He had things he needed to fetch.
Arthur only smirked as he left the captain’s quarters to go retrieve the
necessary implements. Once again, he left Alfred alone, though that time, he
was restrained. It was several minutes before he returned, carrying a sack over
his shoulder, as well as a lit oil lantern in his other hand.
Alfred didn't bother struggling as he was left alone, simply waiting. He looked
up as Arthur returned, wondering what was in the bag. "What's all that?"
Arthur set the oil lantern on the table by the food to let it heat up, then set
the sack down on the floor. He made sure the door was securely locked as he
approached Alfred, and straddled his form to pin his body down to the bed.
“You’ll see, my little lamb.”
Alfred glared up at the pirate, trying not to let his fear show. After all this
was all his fault, he could have kept quiet. Still it was fun to see the pirate
so upset for once, Alfred feeling like this had been some small victory.
“Such a rebellious look,” said Arthur, reaching into the sack to pull out a
slightly thicker than average needle resembling a nail. “Now, I’m afraid I’ve
forgotten something about that religion of yours. I can’t quite remember if you
lot allow for the modification of the body. I seem to recall something about
desecration of God’s creation. But, then again, we’ve already established your
existence as a mistake. So I suppose it doesn’t matter.” He wiped the needle
against his shirt to make sure it was clean. “You’re probably going to regret
not drinking the rum when you had the chance.”
“A-A needle?” Alfred asked, eyeing the sharp object. Yes, their people were
against such things, although Arthur was right it wasn’t like God cared for him
anymore. Was the pirate going to pierce him? But why?
“Consider it a mark of ownership,” said Arthur, pressing his fingers against
the lobe of his own ear. He never wore anything in it anymore, and the hole had
probably closed up by that point, but the scar still remained. “You think I’m
like him, don’t you? So I may as well do all of the same things. Wouldn’t you
agree, little lamb?” Maybe Alfred was right. Maybe he was just like Francis.
But there was a difference between him and Alfred, and that was that Alfred was
weak. He didn’t deserve his freedom like Arthur had. He pressed the needle to
Alfred’s ear, not yet hard enough to puncture the skin.
Alfred flinched at the contact, shutting his eyes tightly as he prepared
himself for the pain that was about to happen. It shouldn’t be too bad he kept
telling himself, just a little poke in the ear. If others could get it done so
could he, he wasn’t weak, he just had to keep telling himself that.
Arthur wasn’t quick as he did it. Just like Francis had, he took his time,
slowly increasing the pressure until Alfred’s ear began to bleed, and making
sure he felt every millimeter of the metal as it punctured the flesh of his
ear. He wanted to see him crying. Crying because there was nobody on his side,
nobody willing to help him. “Does it feel good, little lamb? Tell me, what’s it
like?”
Despite telling himself he wouldn’t scream Alfred did just that, his screaming
filling the room as the needle slowly penetrated his earlobe. Blood trickled
down to his neck and Alfred did his best to stay completely still, scared that
if he moved his ear would be torn. He couldn’t quite answer the pirate’s
question at that very moment, settling for screaming even more.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ then,” said Arthur, finally deciding to show some
mercy. He pushed the needle all the way through, pulled it out, and immediately
replaced it with a small iron hoop. “It came out quite nice, actually. You’re
lucky I have steady hands.” He reached over for the bottle of rum, reached his
fingers inside, and coated them in alcohol. He then dabbed the substance around
the piercing, having seen first-hand what could happen if one didn’t clean it.
Unfortunately for Alfred, alcohol on a wound wasn’t usually pleasant.
Alfred hissed in pain, his ear stinging even more thanks to the alcohol. Still,
he knew alcohol was good for cleaning out cuts and such and was at least
thankful for that. The hoop felt so heavy on his ear though, like it would
stretch out his earlobe.
“You might not want to play around with that too much. We wouldn’t want you to
get an ugly scar, now, would we?” said Arthur, an ever-so-slight slurring in
his words. He tossed the bloody needle back into the sack to be cleaned up
later, then pulled his pocket knife from his coat to drag the flat of the blade
against Alfred’s cheek. “I once watched a man run across a bed of hot coals as
if they were nothing, back in the east. I wonder if you have the same heat
resistance?” He took the lantern and blew out the flame. It wasn’t there for
light. What mattered was that the oil was nice and heated.
Alfred turned his head away as the knife pressed against his cheek, not yet
breaking skin. “Wh-What do you mean?” he asked, the room going dim as the
lantern went out. Was this really worth pissing off the other? At first it
seemed like a good idea but he never really thought these things through very
well.
Arthur smiled and, with one quick motion, sliced Alfred’s cheek, in much the
same manner he’d done the other day when he’d so foolishly attempted to escape
captivity. “I imagine you’re not very used to actual whale oil. It doesn’t
smell quite the same as the animal fat substitutes, but it gets just as hot.”
He opened up the lantern, and pressed the metal blade into the oil.
Alfred screamed again as his cheek was slashed, blood trickling down his face.
He wanted to beg so badly but he couldn't. Not after that display he had put on
earlier. He had to at least pretend to be strong.
With the blade coated in oil, Arthur held both it and the lamp over Alfred,
then withdrew the knife. With it, he let a few hot droplets fall to Alfred’s
chest, a little taste of what was to come. He still had a few burn marks on his
body from such sessions. He hoped Alfred wouldn’t scar quite so badly. Burn
marks weren’t one of his favorite things to look at.
“D-Dammit,” Alfred muttered, biting his lower lip to keep from screaming out.
Tears formed in his eyes and fell down his cheeks from the pain, the hot oil
singeing his skin. It would probably blister later, making that damn corset
even more painful when he would put it on next.
“Oh? No more screaming?” asked Arthur, dipping the knife back in the oil. When
he pulled it out again, he scraped it along the edge of the lantern so it
wouldn’t drip, then held it over one of Alfred’s nipples. “I can fix that. But,
I’m a sporting fellow, as we’ve already established. I’ll give you one chance
to convince me that I shouldn’t press this blade right here, right now.” He
wondered if Alfred would bring up the question of how he would feed their child
with injuries to such an area. They would certainly heal by then, but he wanted
the answer to be why it would inconvenience him, not Alfred. Of course an
injury would inconvenience the recipient.
Alfred’s mind raced with thoughts, trying his best to think of any excuse. “B-
Because ah, y-you won’t be able to touch it during sex if you burn it,” god
that sounded stupid, but he knew it had to think of a reason that didn’t just
involve his discomfort.
“Of course I could touch it during sex. It would just hurt you,” said Arthur,
though he lifted the blade up anyway. “I suppose I can give you points for
effort.” Not quite good enough, though. He set the lantern aside, then reached
behind himself with the hand not holding the oil-coated knife to take Alfred’s
cock in hand. “Let’s try something else. Why shouldn’t I burn this?”
Alfred gasped as his cock was touched, again his mind racing to think of any
excuse. “Ah, b-because I-I couldn’t get p-pregnant if you did,” that sounded
even worse than his first excuse but he wasn’t exactly in the right state of
mind at that very moment.
Arthur sighed. “Very well. I can accept that one. Still, I can’t just let all
this oil go to waste, now, can I?” He slapped the flat of the blade against
Alfred’s stomach and pulled it off, then got off of Alfred to squeeze back
between his legs. “I can’t wait to see your tummy all swollen with my
children.” The pirate stroked Alfred’s stomach with his empty hand. “You see,
that’s the main difference between us, Alfred. I never had to worry about
getting pregnant. I could never enjoy the things I’m doing to you, because I
was meant to be a man. It’s that simple, really. I could tell from the moment I
saw you that you were a mistake; the way you look, the way you carry yourself…
It’s painfully obvious.”
Screams filled the room as the hot blade pressed against Alfred’s flesh,
burning it before the pirate moved his hand away. Alfred spread his legs
willingly this time for Arthur, whimpering as his stomach was stroked. “Wh-
What’s that supposed to mean? I look like a man not a woman, I-I act like a man
too.”
It couldn’t get any more perfect. “You do? I wasn’t aware that a man would
spread their legs so willingly,” said Arthur, quite pleased by the lack of a
struggle. “A real man would keep fighting and defying it every time, not roll
over and take it after less than a week on board. Everyone has their limits,
for certain, but yours are quite a bit lower than average.” Arthur set the
blade aside, and leaned down to tug gently on Alfred’s new piercing with his
teeth.
“Ah, o-ow stop,” Alfred whimpered, the tugging rather painful on his sensitive
earlobe. He wanted to keep fighting but ever since what had happened after
trying to stab the pirate he knew he needed to wait more, make the pirate trust
him. He just needed to keep telling himself that, that he was only submitting
so that later he could escape.
“Don’t start now,” said Arthur, pulling back for just long enough to speak. “It
won’t do you any good. Your behavior has already cemented your status.” He
pressed his tongue to Alfred’s throat and gave it a small lick, then sank his
teeth into the side of his neck like a wild animal ready to tear out its prey’s
jugular. It was just enough force to leave an imprint, without doing any actual
damage. “The hierarchy in life is fairly simple. You have prey, and you have
predators. You were born prey. The only reason I intend to teach you self-
defense is to prevent you from being gobbled up by someone else.” He wouldn’t
make the same mistake Francis had; he would teach Alfred to fight, for certain,
but never enough to match up to him. It would be silly to have someone
completely defenseless on a vessel such as theirs, especially someone with the
level of potential he saw in Alfred. But he was, first and foremost, Arthur’s
toy. If a day came when he was completely broken, and his loyalty proven,
perhaps he would show him some more advanced maneuvers. But until that day - if
it ever came at all - he would keep to the basics.
Alfred gasped, hating how good it felt as the other bit him. He refused to
believe Arthur’s words, knowing the pirate was just trying to mess with him. If
only the other would just be quiet during sex it would make this a lot less
painful.
“Such an unhappy face you have…” said Arthur, pulling down his trousers. It was
much easier than when he’d consummated their ‘marriage’ and had to pull down a
pair of tights. He couldn’t lie; he quite loved wearing fine clothing, and he
was known for spending significant stretches of time making sure his high heels
were polished before he stepped on shore. However, they were an absolute
nightmare to remove when one was trying to have sex with a fair maiden as
quickly as possible. “Won’t you smile for your husband?”
“No,” Alfred said, shooting Arthur a glare. He was breathing heavily, not an
easy thing to do in a corset. He was in no mood to pretend to be happy for the
other. “You can keep doing this to me but I’ll never enjoy it.”
“Of course you will. You’ve already enjoyed it, and were impregnated for it,”
answered Arthur. “There’s defiance, and there’s denial, love. You’re
experiencing the latter of the two.” He was so cute when he was angry, with
that look of a cornered deer in his eyes. As tempting as it was, his little
lamb would be much more useful if he let it develop than if he cut it up and
turned it into veal. “If you possess even a modicom of intelligence, you will
renounce your previous statement and apologize.”
“Why should I?” Alfred asked, already knowing the answer. He should because if
not this pirate would just torture him more. It was like a game, he’d say
something, the pirate would threaten him, he’d regret it, then it would all
repeat again. “Am I really pregnant? How can you even tell?”
“A man knows these things,” answered Arthur cryptically, pressing his ear
against Alfred’s belly as though he were actually listening for something. “A
maiden like yourself wouldn’t recognize these things. Although, I suppose you
aren’t a ‘maiden’ anymore.” He lifted his head. “I’ll give you one last chance,
darling. Renounce. Your. Words.”
“Go to hell,” Alfred spat, his mood getting worse as Arthur kept talking. He
vaguely wondered just how far he could push Arthur, although he knew ultimately
that was a very bad idea. For now though it was a bit satisfying seeing the
other so angry.
“We’re already there, love,” said Arthur, pulling his trousers back up.
Ordinary sex would have to wait. “And unfortunately for you, I’m the devil.” He
pinned Alfred down with a knee between his legs, then untied his wrists whilst
applying a constant pressure to his crotch. He almost felt sorry for what he
was doing; the poor creature was obviously incredibly dumb. It was like beating
a baby. He didn’t even seem to understand what it was that he was doing.
Alfred groaned out as Arthur’s knee painfully pressed against his cock,
wondering what the man could be doing considering he was untying his hands.
“Wh-What are you doing?” he asked, weakly struggling to get away from the
pressure.
“You want to act like a child,” answered Arthur, grabbing Alfred by the arm and
sitting back, “so I’m going to discipline you as one would any brat.” He yanked
his ‘wife’ over his lap and pressed one elbow into the crook of his back, right
against the lace of his corset.
It was clear what Arthur intended to do, Alfred’s cheeks heating up in
embarrassment. “I-I’m not a little kid,” he whimpered, the pressure to his back
quite painful considering the wounds there were still a bit fresh.
“You certainly act like one,” said Arthur. ‘Kid?’ So even Alfred was comparing
himself to an animal? And a goat, of all things? Or was that a common way to
refer to children in the colonies? “Being defiant for no other reason than to
try to prove a silly point, when any adult in this situation would know
better.” He gave Alfred’s bottom a gentle pat, then raised his hand, and
smacked it with full force.
Alfred screamed out at the sudden hit, squirming a bit as he tried to get more
comfortable. “I-Isn’t that similar to what you’re doing?” he asked, bracing
himself for pain. He knew Arthur was going to go all out with this after all.
“Of course a child would say that.” Arthur raised his hand once more, and
smacked Alfred’s rear twice in quick succession, leaving red handprints where
his captive had been struck. “You should consider yourself lucky that I’m not
using a cane. If you want to keep it that way, then you will stay your tongue.”
The cane did sound pretty bad, especially since he still had a few welts from
the whip left on his ass. Alfred figured it would be best to keep quiet, that
is unless the pirate kept talking. He hated listening to the other talk, hated
how he would be teased and taunted. It made it hard to keep quiet after all.
Arthur continued to mercilessly swat Alfred’s poor bottom, making it a point to
specifically target areas that hadn’t been abused by the whip the other day; he
DID want to minimize the amount of wounds that were re-opened, especially if
Alfred was going to be on his back getting fucked on his bed. Still, he
couldn’t help but taunt him; he was a proud man, and it was in his nature to
make sure that others knew their place around him. “Do you understand now? Your
rank on this ship? Your lot in life?”
Tears were falling down Alfred’s cheeks by now, hiding his face the best he
could. It was so humiliating, he had been so full of himself before and now
here he was sobbing again as another man spanked him. “I-It’s not fair,” he
sobbed out, not wanting to accept it.
“Life isn’t fair,” said Arthur simply. “You can either accept that fact and
make the most of what you have, or you can make it worse for yourself.” It was
a cynical outlook, he knew, but that was simply the way the world worked. Good
people got punished, and bad people, like him, sailed the seas making money off
of their misery.
“It could have been if you wouldn’t have ruined my life!” Alfred screamed, not
going to let the pirate get away with this. His life had been happy and good up
until the other had destroyed it, tearing him away from his loved ones.
“But it isn’t, and it won’t be,” said Arthur, smacking Alfred’s rear yet again.
It was clear that being nice hadn’t worked out too well. He would have to go
the old-fashioned route, and break Alfred down until he was nothing left but a
bunch of jagged pieces that could be put back together in whichever manner
Arthur deemed fitting. “Your life as it was no longer exists as a result of
circumstances outside your control. It makes no difference which circumstances
they are. If you can’t adapt to the situation, I’ll certainly end up killing
you at some point or another. If you get over it, you may live a little longer.
Tell me, Alfred, do you want to live?”
To be honest Alfred wasn't completely sure about that. Yes he wanted to live
and escape and find his family but at the same time he wasn't sure if he could
keep on living like this, as some pirate's whore. He had to hold on to some
hope though, he couldn't give up yet. "I-I want to live.."
“Then you’ll learn to move on,” said Arthur, striking him again. “Are you ready
to apologize now?” He continued beating on his captive’s round, reddened
bottom, covered with dark handprints. It was plain to see that he wasn’t
holding back, to the point where his own hand stung from each impact.
Alfred's ass stung horribly, especially where he had been whipped the previous
day. "S-sorry..." he mumbled, hoping that was good enough for the pirate. He
really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut if he wanted to survive.
“That hardly sounded sincere. Tell me what it is you’re sorry for. With
feeling,” said Arthur. He knew he was being hard on him, but it was obviously
necessary. Alfred didn’t learn well if one went easy on him. Arthur had
actually been willing to let him share his bed that night, provided he clearly
understood that even killing him wouldn’t allow him to escape the ship, but it
was quite apparent to him that his newest pet couldn’t be trusted to be that
rational.
"I-I'm sorry I spoke so rudely to you," Alfred whimpered, just wanting this
humiliating punishment to end. He already knew he wouldn't be able to
comfortably sit down for awhile, his ass probably all bruised up. "A-And saying
such rude things, it was out of line."
At last, Arthur stopped, letting his hand rest on the bed. “There’s a good lad.
Do you think you can lay down on your back after that?” He wasn’t stupid enough
to honestly believe that Alfred meant what he said, but getting him to say it
was the first step to making him convince himself that it was true. “Or does it
hurt too much? It’s fine if it does. You poor thing; it could probably use a
break.” He wondered if Alfred would be convinced that he was free from his
sexual duties for the day. Because he most certainly wasn’t. He would just be
doing them in a different position.
"I don't know..." Alfred muttered, giving a sigh. "It does hurt a lot," his
back still hurt too when he laid on it. Plus if the pirate took him in a
different position he wouldn't have to look at him. He perked up a bit at the
word break, only remembering that it was Arthur speaking and that he highly
doubted the pirate would just let him off so easy.
“Very well, we can try something a little different this time,” said Arthur,
easing Alfred off of him. “Face away from me, on your hands and knees. I know
that your people are quite big on the missionary position, but after all this,
I don’t think it matters much anymore.” Besides, he was getting rather bored
with the same thing each and every time. He wanted to see the numerous whip
marks all over Alfred’s back a few more times before they were fully healed.
Alfred nodded, getting into the position he was told to be in, resting his head
against the bed. It was embarrassing but at least he didn't have to look at the
other. Plus his wounds wouldn't rub and chafe as well.
“See? Life is so much easier when you do as you’re told, instead of actively
making things worse for yourself,” said Arthur, beginning to remove his
clothes, and appreciating the nice view. He was tempted to give Alfred’s behind
one more slap with his hand, but he didn’t want to discourage him from
obedience by punishing him when he was doing the right things. At least, not
until he was broken. He’d only ever managed to hold onto a pet long enough to
reach that state once, and then he’d ended up killed when they were boarded by
privateers seeking to bring them to justice. It was for that reason that he
wanted Alfred to know some self-defense. The poor thing was still convinced
that he would be saved if someone came aboard. He didn’t understand that in the
eyes of the law, everyone on a pirate ship was equally guilty. In his
experience, at least.
Alfred’s breathing was heavy as he laid there, waiting for the pirate to move
on. He could hear shuffling and clothing and being removed, burying his face in
his arms. He felt so exposed, not that he hadn’t been before, but now it
somehow felt even worse. At least the pirate couldn’t see his face, and he
couldn’t see Arthur’s.
“It’s a shame, really,” continued Arthur, refusing to be content until he had
Alfred feeling even worse than he already did. He pressed his cock up against
his hole, rubbing the tip up and down. “I wanted so badly to be nice today.”
The oil from the lamp should have cooled down by then, even if it was still a
bit warm; he wondered if it would make an adequate lubricant.
Alfred squirmed a bit, biting into his bottom lip to keep quiet. Like hell the
pirate was wanting to be nice, he was never nice. Sooner or later he would have
just went and found some excuse to do this to him anyways.
“Since I’m a merciful man,” said Arthur, and the gravity of the lie was almost
such that he couldn’t keep a straight face, “I’ll be a little more forgiving
this time than I’ve been in the past.” He dipped his fingers into the oil of
the lantern on the nearby table - everything was so closely packed together
that it was easy to reach - and eased his slippery fingers into Alfred’s tight
entrance.
“Ahn..” Alfred gasped, back arching a bit as the pirate’s fingers penetrated
him. He was still so sore back there so the preparation was nice, although he
did hate how it would only make it last even longer. Still, it felt kind of
nice in an odd sort of way, heat pooling in Alfred’s belly and going straight
to his cock.
“There, you’re taking it so much better now than you were before!” praised
Arthur. Hopefully the positive reinforcement wouldn’t cause him to act up
again. He had to make sure Alfred still felt lowly. “Someday you’ll seek out
this stimulation. Perhaps sooner rather than later.” He applied a little more
oil, then slipped a second finger in, pushing them in and out at a nice, slow
pace. He wanted Alfred to break, but he didn’t want him associating sex with
punishment, either. Even if he was using it as that, he wanted the torment to
be psychological, not physical.
Alfred hated just how good it felt, the pirate’s fingers feeling so gentle
compared to his cock. The slow stretching and thrusting only causing him to let
out the occasional moan or whimper that managed to escape his throat. He almost
preferred the rough treatment, at least then he wouldn’t be enjoying it so damn
much.
The third finger went in next, then the fourth. It was much easier than it had
been before, both because of the oil, and because Alfred seemed to have gotten
just a bit better at handling it. Still, he was quite tight, despite having so
recently been repeatedly double-penetrated. It was kind of impressive,
actually. “Tell me how much you love it, you dirty whore.”
“I-I love it,” Alfred whimpered, sobbing into his arms, hips rolling with each
movement of Arthur’s fingers. His cock was already getting hard, Arthur’s
fingers managing to nudge against his prostate.
“Be more specific, slut,” ordered Arthur firmly, moving his whole arm to really
have some force behind each thrust into Alfred’s tight cavern. A devious idea
popped into his head, one that, while not exactly painful, would probably
startle his pet more than anything he’d done in the past. “Tell me how much you
love getting sodomized. Go on.”
Alfred was trembling now in a mix of pleasure and humiliation. “I-I love being
sodomized,” he sobbed, knowing it was true. He was enjoying it, or at least his
body was. Not that it mattered, God had already given up on him.
“Good. I believe a reward is in order,” said Arthur, removing his fingers. He
looked them over, and decided that they looked clean. Without hesitation, he
spread the cheeks of Alfred’s ass with both hands, and pressed his tongue
against his hole.
Alfred’s eyes went wide at that, feeling the pirate’s warm, soft tongue against
his entrance. “Wh-What are you doing?” he asked, feeling a bit disgusted. “Th-
That’s gross, that’s gross stop it.”
Arthur pulled his head back just long enough to answer. As usual. “Don’t tell
me what to do.” He returned his tongue to the colonist’s entrance, and pushed
it in. It didn’t reach as far as his fingers, of course, but he was able to get
it a good few centimeters through.
Alfred really didn’t understand what was going on or even why the pirate would
put his tongue there of all places. It seemed so disgusting but at the same
time it just felt so good, the tongue so gentle compared to his fingers.
Arthur held his hips firmly in place, grimacing only slightly at the taste of
oil that still lingered there after his previous actions. Still, it was a
better taste than the alternative, so he didn’t mind it all that much. He’d had
much worse things in his mouth, courtesy of none other than that frog who dared
call himself a captain.
Alfred’s cock was leaking a bit of precum, moans and gasps escaping his throat.
It was still so gross, Alfred unsure of why the pirate would ever want to put
his mouth there of all places.
For several minutes more, Arthur did nothing but thrust, twist, and wiggle his
tongue around inside of Alfred’s hole. It was only after he’d had his fill and
gotten bored that he chose to withdraw, unable to stand the anticipation any
longer. “Do you want to be filled, little lamb?”
Alfred wanted to say no, but he knew that would be a rather stupid idea. “Y-
Yes…” he lied, hoping Arthur would just hurry and get done with it already.
Alas, Arthur wasn’t quite done with him yet. As he coated his cock in the oil
from the lamp, he gave Alfred another command. “This is the third time I’ve had
to tell you to be more specific, darling. Tell me, what is it that you want?”
He wanted to hear him say it, not just give a one-word answer.
“I-I want you inside me…” Alfred whimpered, sobbing into the bed sheets as he
said it. Why couldn’t the pirate just get to it already? Why must he be
tortured so much?
“Good lad. You’re quite cute when you behave,” said Arthur, pushing in the tip
of his cock. He took his time, as a reward for his pet’s obedience, trying to
make sure that Alfred had time to adjust even as every instinct told him to
forget about his comfort and pound him into the bed.
Arthur was moving so slowly, so agonizingly slow. It was driving Alfred insane,
feeling as every inch of the pirate’s cock penetrated him. “Ah, oh…” he
groaned, hands gripping the sheets harshly as he tried to relax.
“Lower your head,” commanded Arthur. “I want your ass to be the only thing in
the air.” Truthfully, he just wanted to see if Alfred would obey an order
clearly given for the sole purpose of causing him humiliation.
Alfred kept his head down, his ass up in the air as the other told him to.
There was no point in fighting it, no matter what the pirate would force him to
do it anyways.
Out of patience, Arthur slowly pulled his hips back, checking for blood; when
he saw none, he re-sheathed himself, just slightly faster than the initial
penetration. “You’re quite hard for one who claims to hate this.”
Alfred didn’t want to think about that, think about the possibility of enjoying
this. Not that this was the first time, after all just about every time so far
his body had betrayed him. Or maybe he just needed to accept that Arthur was
right, and that he was a whore whose only use was to be a slave to a pirate.
“What’s wrong, love? Can’t talk?” asked Arthur, gradually quickening his pace.
A few stray beads of sweat gathered on his body and fell down to the body below
him, both a result of the activity they were engaged in, and the heat working
its way into the ship. Unlike outside, there was shade, but there wasn’t any
air circulation. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer it
truthfully. You won’t be punished, whether or not I like your answer. So tell
me, does it feel good?”
Alfred grunted, not sure how to answer such a question. It felt terrible, it
was humiliating and dehumanizing. But on the other hand his body was enjoying
it, heat pooling in his belly and precum leaking from his cock. “K-Kinda..” he
whimpered, deciding to go for a more neutral answer.
“Fair enough,” said the pirate, wrapping an arm around Alfred’s waist to flick
his hardened cock with his finger. After all, as far as Alfred was concerned,
he was already ‘pregnant.’ He could safely touch it without worry of his
charade dying.
Alfred couldn't help the moan that escaped him, almost glad the pirate was
touching him at least. This way he could at least keep telling himself that he
wasn’t actually enjoying it and it was just his body betraying him.
Arthur took Alfred’s cock in his hand as he pounded into him and pressed his
thumb against his slit. “I want you to start touching yourself,” he said. “On a
regular basis. Even if I’m not there to do this with you.” There would be no
more body shame on his ship. He wanted his pet addicted to pleasures of the
flesh. The sooner he accomplished that, the sooner he would stop getting so
bent out of shape every time he had to bend over.
Alfred was about to say how that was a sin but quickly realized how stupid that
would sound. After all it couldn’t be any worse than letting another man
sodomize you as you enjoyed it. “Y-Yes,” he whimpered, not bothering to argue
with the pirate. He was feeling close to finishing as Arthur’s fingers wrapped
around his cock, hips rolling back against Arthur’s cock.
Even though he didn’t say it, Arthur had a feeling he knew what was on Alfred’s
mind. “Don’t worry about it being a sin, or anything. The passage is
specifically not to spill your seed on the ground. We’re on a boat. No ground
to be found for miles.” He had a fondness for loopholes. Loopholes had gotten
him out of quite a few pinches in the past. Speaking of holes, Alfred’s was
feeling particularly nice on that occasion; there was something incredibly
arousing about having him on all fours like an animal.
Alfred knew it didn’t matter, again he was being used as some fucktoy by a
pirate it wasn’t like touching himself would make things worse. It was best to
just go along with it. “Ah...oh,” Alfred gasped, eyes screwed tightly shut as
he came, his seed spilling onto the bed sheets beneath them.
Arthur didn’t waste any time in filling his pet up with his own seed, none of
which was spilled upon the ground; on top of that, he wasn’t even laying with
Alfred as he would a woman, since he had a policy against sleeping side by side
with the opposite sex; perhaps it was only a result of his choice of career,
but every time he tried it, it seemed to result in her disappearing by the
morning, and him being short all the gold in his pockets. That was, of course,
if he didn’t wake up to them trying to stab him; in fact, just such an incident
had marked the last time he ever let himself sleep in the same room as a
stranger. He’d had female captives aboard his ship before, of course, but he’d
never actually, literally slept with any of them; they’d all either killed
themselves or been killed before he got to that point.
Alfred groaned as he felt the pirate fill him up, disgust washing over him as
he came back to his senses. He hoped the pirate would leave him alone now, take
him back to the brig and just let him sleep. Sleep seemed to be the only time
he ever had any peace nowadays. Every moment he was awake was either spent
being taunted by the crew members or tortured by that damn pirate.
Well, he was going to send Alfred back to his cell for his disobedience, but…
As bad an idea as it was, Arthur didn’t really want to give him the
satisfaction. Besides, he’d been able to look at things logically when he had a
gun. It seemed a safe bet that after being taken down a notch, he would be in a
reasonable state of mind. “Since you’ve done such a great job of apologizing, I
think a little reward is in order,” said Arthur, though he wasn’t sure if
Alfred would really consider it a ‘reward.’
“What’s the reward?” Alfred asked, voice muffled as he kept his face buried in
his arms. He highly doubted he would enjoy this “reward” but it had to be
better than any punishment he figured.
“I want you to sleep in here tonight,” said Arthur. “The initial shock seems to
have worn off, so I’m going to allow you to be out and about as long as we’re
not in port.” In port, he would still have to remain locked away; he wasn’t yet
broken enough to be trusted not to escape. “Don’t worry about being harassed by
the men. They know better than to touch what isn’t theirs without permission,
now that I’ve given you permission to be outside your cell. Naturally, they’ll
still keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t try to do anything stupid, but
you can feel free to go around and learn from them how we do things. You’ll be
expected to work, of course; I can’t have you taking up resources without
getting anything but sex in return. However, initially, you’ll be started on
simple tasks, like cleaning, so you don’t need to worry your pretty little head
about the specifics.” As he spoke, he was already cleaning himself up and
getting dressed. For once, he’d had the foresight to bring rags to wipe the two
of them off.
Alfred stayed where he was, lying on his stomach with his face buried in the
sheets. It would hurt way too much to lay down on his back he knew. He really
didn’t want to sleep with the pirate, knowing it was just the other’s way of
torturing him more under a guise of being kind and thoughtful. “Do I still have
to wear the dress?”
“When you’re off-duty, I want you in the dress,” said Arthur. “However, given
that it’s impractical for work, I will provide you with a set of working
clothes.” He knew, as unfortunate as it was, that having Alfred raise the
anchor, hoist the sails, or move things around the ship would be downright
impossible in a dress. “You will also be expected to wear the dress for simpler
tasks, like sweeping or mopping the deck. If you wish to be out of it, I
suggest you learn more complicated skills quickly.”
Well, it was better than being in the dress all the time Alfred figured and at
least he wouldn’t have to go without any clothes. “I’m tired,” he mumbled, his
eyelids feeling rather heavy. He had no idea what time it was but he felt like
he could sleep for the rest of the day.
“Well, I have work to do, I’m afraid,” said Arthur, standing up to put his
clothes on. “Feel free to get some rest. If you feel up for coming outside,
your clothes are on the chair. Just ask one of the men where I am. Go right
ahead and finish up the remaining food, too.” He wasn’t particularly hungry
right then. “If you can’t finish it, tell one of the men; we can’t let anything
go to waste.”
Alfred nodded, waiting until Arthur left before getting up. His stomach was
rumbling a bit and he didn’t want to let good food go to waste, sitting down
and finishing up his portion. He was exhausted though, finishing quickly before
hopping back in the bed, closing his eyes and quickly falling asleep.
***** Chapter 6 *****
It was a good day to be in port. The skies were growing cloudy, indicating that
rainfall was soon to come. The men were quite pleased that it meant they
wouldn’t be spending yet another day working in awful weather, and would
instead be focused on unloading cargo. Illegally obtained cargo, perhaps, but
as far as the merchants were concerned, they were legitimate traders seeking to
unload the many wares they’d picked up back east. Besides, even those who
caught on weren’t about to call them on it; they’d engaged in enough under-the-
table trade with the French that the law wasn’t going to stop the vast majority
of them from buying their questionably-obtained goods. Unfortunately for
Alfred, being in port for him meant being locked up in his cell; Arthur didn’t
yet trust him not to run away, and rightfully so.
Alfred was lying on his pile of rags, not necessarily tired but rather bored.
He was clad in his dress to keep him warm. It was a cooler day and being left
nude left him too cold. He knew they were in port, Arthur had told him, which
meant he being locked up in his cell. If only he could get out and escape, find
someone to help him.
It was around the middle of the day, when the sun was at its highest - though
it couldn’t be seen from below deck - when one of the pirates entered the brig,
a plate in hand. He muttered angrily to himself as he took the keys. “Fucking
hate this… Who do they think they are, making me bring him his damned food?
What do I look like, a servant?” He swung the door of Alfred’s cell open and
practically dropped the dish on the ground. “There, you stinking whore!”
Alfred flinched as he heard someone enter, sitting up now. "A whore who's
getting better treatment than you," he spat back, not appreciating the man's
insults to him. It wasn't like the pirate could do anything to him anyways
without Arthur knowing and getting angry.
“Just you wait,” spat the pirate, slamming the cell door shut. He was so angry,
in fact, that he didn’t even properly hang the keyring on the hook where it
belonged, choosing instead to slam it down angrily on the table. “You’ll be
dead by the end of the month. Sooner or later, all of the captain’s beloved
little pets end up at the bottom of the ocean.” Without another word, he turned
around to leave.
Alfred simply shot the man a glare as he watched the man leave, waiting until
he was gone before reaching and taking a few sips of the water he was brought.
As he was sipping though he couldn't help but spot something shiny, eyes
darting to the object only to see the keyring there. Was it some trap? No it
couldn't be, Arthur wouldn't take that risk while they were in port. Knowing
this would be his chance at escape Alfred waited a few minutes, eating a little
to get some energy, before grabbing the keyring and unlocking the door.
As he peeked out he saw no one, carefully making his way up on deck. The only
person he saw was a rather bored looking pirate who was facing the other way.
Luckily his back was turned so Alfred easily slipped off the ship and onto
land. He didn't even care if he was in a dress, he needed to go find someone to
help him.
Alfred was in luck; the majority of the men of whom would ordinarily be busy
carrying cargo on and off the ship were on break, leaving the dock clear of
anyone who knew him. There were, however, sailors from other ships, as well as
customs agents seeking to inspect the many goods being imported. It was only
minutes before he was spotted by one of the latter, who had the most startled
and genuinely disturbed expression on his face.
“Wh-what in God’s name?”
Alfred turned around as he heard someone speak, so glad that it was in English
too. He ran up to the man who he assumed had been the one who had just spoken.
"You hafta help me I was kidnapped by a pirate when he destroyed my village and
he made me his wife and I think I might be pregnant," Alfred rambled on, not
even stopping to take a breath.
The customs official could only stare at Alfred with wide, startled eyes,
slowly processing the information that had just been fed to him. A man, in
women’s clothing, from a ship, claiming to be the pregnant wife of a pirate.
There was not a single part of that sentence that sounded sane. “What on
earth…? Why are you wearing a dress?”
"I just told you!" Alfred shouted, realizing that maybe he should keep a little
more quiet. "The pirate is making me, he keeps saying I'm his new wife and that
I'm gonna have his babies and you need to help me."
“T-the pirate is… The pirate is making you wear a dress,” repeated the customs
official. What sort of nonsense was the boy spouting? It sounded like the
rambling of a person possessed by a demon! Perhaps, he decided, it was best to
take him back to shore, seeking an exorcism? On the other hand, returning him
to whoever his caretakers had apparently been up until that moment sounded like
an apt plan. “Listen, lad, why don’t you just tell me where you came from? Can
you remember?”
Alfred sighed, holding in any tears that threatened to form. "I'm from the more
northern colonies," Alfred answered, noticing that the man had a similar accent
to himself and realizing they must still be in the colonies.
Well, that was incredibly unhelpful in figuring out which ship he’d come off
of. “I-I’ll just take you back to the customs office for now, shall I? Right
this way, umm, sir,” he said, beckoning warily for Alfred to follow. He’d never
seen anything quite like it before; apparently, neither had any of his peers,
because every single man they passed could only turn and stare at the oddity as
they walked by.
Alfred nodded, following the man. He hated all the stares he was getting but it
was inevitable, after all he was a man walking around in a dress. He couldn't
help but cautiously look around as he walked, scared that any second Arthur
would appear.
It was several minutes before they arrived at the customs office; the official
quickly ushered Alfred inside, rather embarrassed to be seen in public with
such an abnormality. His peers all let out collective gasps of shock and
surprise, a man in a dress having been the last thing they expected to see that
morning. With a look of reluctance, the official that had escorted Alfred to
the building brought him into the back room, where several other men followed.
“So, ah, um… Tell them all exactly what you told me,” he said, in response to
the looks of morbid curiosity on the faces of the others.
Alfred was blushing, rather embarrassed at how he looked. Still he needed to
get help no matter what. "I was kidnapped by a pirate who destroyed my village
and he insisted on making me his wife and he keeps telling me I'm pregnant and
hurting me," Alfred said, taking a deep breath afterwards.
“...What.”
That seemed to be the unanimous response to his tale. It wasn’t even a
question. It was merely an exclamation; an audible expression of complete and
utter bewilderment. Not one of them was quite sure what to make of such a
story, nor were they sure what the best action to take would be from there.
“Excuse us for just a moment,” said one of the men, motioning for the others to
join him over on the other side of the room in a huddle.
“Sir,” whispered one of the men. “This boy is absolutely insane! He must be
possessed, or something!”
“I don’t know, what if he’s telling the truth?” said another.
“The truth? You expect me to believe that there’s anything factual in that huge
heap of nonsense?”
Alfred could hear a little bit of what the men were saying, about ready to just
run off and find someone else. "I'm not lying!" He cried out, feeling his heart
pounding in his chest. Why did they not believe him? Did these men somehow know
Arthur? But even if they did they had no way of knowing who he was.
One of the men returned to Alfred’s side to calm him down, a bit concerned
about such an outburst from an obvious madman. “Easy, there. We’re going to get
you home, okay? It’s just…” Excuse, excuse… “If what you said is true, we need
to get a priest in here right away to cleanse you!” He didn’t dare take such an
abomination to holy ground, but they had to get rid of whatever terrible spirit
had taken over his body. “Please, just have a seat. Everything is going to be
just fine, I promise.”
"Cleanse me?" Alfred asked, wondering what they meant. Was he to confess his
sins? Even if he did he doubted he would be forgiven. "There's no point, I've
sinned too much already," a few tears were falling down his cheeks now, Alfred
reaching up to wipe them away.
The man wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Umm, hush, now, nobody is beyond
redemption,” said the man, still unwilling to touch him for fear of possession.
“We’ve already sent someone to retrieve a priest. He’s going to expel the evil
from you, okay?” None of what he was going through had been a part of his job
training! “Deep breaths, now…”
"I'm not possessed though!" Alfred shouted as he heard that, realizing that
these men thought that he had some devil inside of him. "I just need help to
get away from the pirate."
The shouting was only serving to make things worse. “Easy, easy! Everything is
going to be fine, okay? You just have to calm down.” He didn’t really want to
set the lunatic in front of him off; he looked fairly strong, beneath the
dress, whereas he himself was in his mid-fifties. “N-now, I have an idea! My
friends and I are just going to, you know, wrap you up in some rope to keep you
safe from the pirate, okay?” A pair of other officials came up from behind him
with rope in their hands.
“R-Rope?” Alfred asked, not liking where this was going. These men clearly
weren’t going to help him, he needed to find someone else. A lot of the men
looked older so perhaps he would be able to make an escape. Quickly he pushed
the man nearest him away and made a dash towards the door.
“After him!” said the man who looked to be in charge. Before Alfred could reach
the door, they’d already blocked it off, doing their best to attempt to
surround him. They couldn’t simply let a dress-wearing maniac out onto the
streets. God only knew what someone that crazy was capable of.
Alfred looked around, trying to find a way past these people. “Let me go!” he
cried out, trying to push the men at the door away. He knew that once he could
get out he would be able to outrun these men.
“Don’t let him escape!” said one of the men, as they slowly closed in on him.
Although he was young and strong enough to take them on one on one, their
numbers gave them the advantage; one man grabbed one arm, another grabbed the
other. Before he could try kicking them, a third grabbed both of his legs, and
they carried him off to the chair and held him down while they tied him up.
“Why are you doing this to me?!” Alfred screamed, tears starting to fall down
his cheeks. He didn’t understand why these men weren’t helping him. He hadn’t
done anything wrong. Were they going to find Arthur and tell him?
“Good news!” said one of the men, coming through the door. An old man filed in
after him, wearing all black with a wooden cross around his neck. One could
tell at first glance that he was a priest. “We found someone willing to take on
the job!”
The priest strolled up to Alfred, a warm look in his eyes; right or not, he
seemed to have good intentions. “Good afternoon, my child.”
“G-Good afternoon..” Alfred replied, not quite sure what else to say. Obviously
his rambling of what had been happening to him had been ineffective. He just
hoped Arthur wouldn’t find him in here and that maybe after all of this he
would be let free.
“You seem a bit lost, child,” said the priest, kneeling down in front of him
and placing his hands on Alfred’s knees.
“W-wait, don’t touch him! The demon might get you!” cried one of the shaking
men off to the side.
The priest paid him no heed. “They tell me you come from the north. Are you
from a Puritan village?”
“Yes, yes I was until a pirate came and destroyed the village,” Alfred said,
hoping the priest would listen to him. “He kidnapped me and made me his wife,”
he left the pregnant part out for now, especially since he wasn’t even sure if
he was pregnant.
“Is that so?” said the priest, nodding patiently. While the others looked on
with deeply disturbed expressions, he appeared understanding of the situation.
“The man that came to me said you claimed to have been pregnant. Is this true?”
“Well...the pirate said I’d get pregnant if I uh, finished without him even
touching me,” Alfred’s voice got more quiet at that last part, a deep blush on
his cheeks. He felt so dirty saying such things to a priest.
“Finished?” repeated the priest, looking a tad bit perplexed. “I’m afraid
you’ll have to be a bit more specific, child.” He raised his hand and rested it
on Alfred’s head. “Fear not, boy. To confess your sin is the first step to
redemption. But until I understand the full gravity of what happened, I can’t
hope to assign you penance.”
Alfred really did not want to explain such things to a priest, although it
really was unavoidable. “Uh, like, wh-when you’re having sex and you like,
finish.” he stuttered, unable to look the man in the eye. “The pirate told me
that uh, if I finished without him touching me I’d be pregnant.”
“I see. So this ‘pirate’ you speak of sodomized you?” said the priest, and his
words caused the customs officials that surrounded them to gasp with horror.
One even went so far as to cover his mouth as though he were about to vomit,
then ran off, presumably to do just that. “Don’t fear to look at me. I am only
a man, as sinful as any other. Your honesty should be applauded. Now, we can
begin the healing process.”
“H-He did. I didn’t want to do it he made me,” Alfred cried, hoping that saying
that would make things at least a bit better. He didn’t want everyone thinking
that he had chosen to do such a sinful thing. “Please, get me out of here
before he finds me.”
“Hush, child,” said the priest, getting to his feet. “Ordinarily, the act of
sodomy would be subject to severe punishment. However, given the circumstances,
I believe an exception can be made.” He reached into the pocket of his robes,
and pulled out a copy of the Bible. “For these acts were not of your doing. The
pirate you speak of is a demon, child; the spawn of Satan. I feel its evil
living within you, guiding your actions with its wretched hands! Fear not,
child, for I shall purge this creature from your body!” He raised the Bible up
high, then brought it down on Alfred’s head with enough force to bruise.
Alfred screamed out in pain, having not expected to be smacked with a bible.
“He’s a real pirate! With a ship and crew and everything and he kidnapped me!”
he was sobbing now, not understanding why no one was believing him. His story
couldn’t sound that crazy could it?
“Hear me now, demon!” roared the priest, his voice full of passion. “I command
you to leave this boy! Away with you and your foul aura! Begone!” He smacked
Alfred over the head with the Bible once more. “Begone!” And again. “BEGONE!”
And again. At times he bludgeoned him from the top, and at other times, from
the sides.
Each time he was hit Alfred screamed out, sobbing and hiccupping. “P-Please why
don’t you believe me?” he sobbed, shoulders trembling. He just wanted to get
somewhere safe and find his family again was that too much to ask?
As though the holy smackdown weren’t enough, the priest’s next course of action
was to splash him with what seemed to be a glass vial of holy water. “In the
name of the Lord God!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs. “Free this child
from your tyranny! BEGONE!”
Alfred flinched as he was splashed, shaking his head to get the droplets off of
him. He was quiet now except for his sobs, hoping that after this they would
let him go. He couldn’t help if this was another punishment from God for all of
the bad things he had done.
The exorcism stretched on for what seemed like hours. While not quite that long
in reality, Alfred was forced to endure some time getting beaten and splashed,
occasionally being made to listen to a prayer or two in between. It was only
after a good forty minutes or so that the door opened, and a man hurried in to
speak.
“You’ll never believe this!” he said. “A man has come in asking about a boy
that matches his description! He claims to be his father!”
Alfred was in a bit of a daze from all the abuse, only perking up when he heard
the news. “N-No!” he screamed, the first words he had said in awhile now. “It’s
the pirate, don’t let him in!” His heart was pounding in his chest now, hoping
to God it was someone else.
Sure enough, though, the man that entered through the door was the last person
that Alfred hoped to see; a man with distinct bushy eyebrows, green eyes, and a
mainland accent. He had tears in his eyes and a look of distress on his face,
and his eyes were red and puffy as though he’d been rubbing them restlessly. It
was clear he’d gone through such displays before; every bit of his act seemed
legitimate.
“Alfred?” he whispered, as though in disbelief. “Oh, Alfred! I’ve been looking
everywhere for you!”
Alfred’s eyes widened as he saw the pirate. “No, get the hell away from me!” he
screamed, beginning to struggle in his bindings. “Th-That’s the pirate who’s
been doing all of that to me!”
“Is it true?” asked one of the customs officials. “What he said, is it all
true?”
“Of course it isn’t true, you idiot!” snapped one of the other officials before
Arthur could respond.
Arthur, meanwhile, made a big show of looking embarrassed, going so far as to
flush red and cover his mouth with his hand. “My sincerest thanks. I was
terribly worried,” said Arthur.
“Hold on, you sound like you’re from the mainland! This boy claimed to be a
Puritan, from the north!” said the priest, raising an eyebrow.
Arthur didn’t miss a beat on his answer. “Well, I’m not his real father, you
see; we’re quite distantly related, in fact.” It seemed he intended to explain
away the lack of a family resemblance. “After pirates killed his parents… I’m
all he has left.” He even had the gall to look deeply saddened, as though he
were remembering something painful. “Poor boy was shattered. He’s been mad as a
hatter ever since. I’m trying to teach him the merchants’ trade, but, well, as
you can see, it’s not easy.” He pressed his hand to his forehead. “He won’t
stop going on about pirates doing all sorts of terrible, hedonistic things to
him, and he won’t stop wearing his mother’s old dresses.”
“I… I see,” said the priest, and those in the room began to appear more
sympathetic, not just to Alfred, but to Arthur.
“He’s lying!” Alfred shouted, unable to believe what he was hearing. How could
Arthur walk in and lie so easily? “He’s the pirate who’s doing these things to
me!” It felt hopeless, after all they all thought he had been possessed.
It was no use. “Oh, Alfred, what’s happened to you?” said Arthur softly,
hurrying to his side to touch the bruises covering his body. “My poor boy…” He
looked straight into Alfred’s eyes, and for the briefest of moments, there was
a glimmer of his true emotions; they were not happy. That one shared glance was
all he needed to communicate to Alfred that he was in deep shit.
“Do you need help getting him back to your ship, Mr. Fisher?” asked one of the
men, and it was apparent that Arthur had given them an alias.
“That won’t be necessary,” said Arthur, untying Alfred’s bonds. In his eyes,
though, the soft tone was prefaced by a very clear, ‘Try to run, and you’re
dead.’
Alfred knew calling for help was useless, the priest and the officials all
believed Arthur over him, who sounded like a raving lunatic. He slowly stood
up, holding onto Arthur for support. His body was too weak from the constant
sobbing and being bludgeoned in the head with large books. He stayed silent
even as they left, simply waiting and hoping the pirate wouldn’t kill him.
“I shall pray for your son’s recovery,” said the priest, a tear in his eye from
what he perceived as a tragic tale.
Arthur smiled. “Thank you, father. I have faith that God will show him the
light one day!” As genuine as a smile it was, it seemed a bit tight as he
turned around, as though he were struggling not to laugh.
For the entire walk back down to the end of the dock, Arthur played the role of
a doting parent concerned for their adopted child’s well-being. He helped
Alfred walk by supporting part of his weight, he whispered comforting words
into his ear, and he blushed and looked away from anyone on the other ships
that turned to stare at the man in a dress, as though he were embarrassed to be
seen. When they reached the steep wooden ramp leading up to the main deck of
his ship, the Unicorn, he guided him up the steps with loving attention.
It was only after they were out of both sight and earshot on the main deck of
the ship that he shoved Alfred down on the wooden floor onto his back, stomped
on his stomach, and held him there beneath his boot. “Line up!” he roared, as
though all of his bottled up fury were contained in those two words. Sure
enough, the many men of the ship were quick to assemble before him in a
perfectly straight line, without a word exchanged. It was clear from the look
on their faces that they were all completely and utterly terrified. “I’m only
going to ask this once! Which of you was responsible for him?”
All fingers pointed straight towards the man who’d been tasked with giving
Alfred his lunch earlier. Needless to say, his face went very pale, very
quickly.
“I-it wasn’t my fault! I swear!” said the man, looking about ready to pass out
with terror.
Arthur looked skeptical. He turned his head down to Alfred, and lightened the
pressure on his stomach just enough to allow him to speak. “Tell me who was
responsible for your escape. If you can’t manage that much, you will be tied
up, raped, castrated, skinned alive, and tossed into the ocean with rocks tied
around your red, bloody carcass.” He had a look in his eye that said the threat
was genuine.
As much as Alfred hated just about every crew member on Arthur’s ship, and
really didn’t like the man who had accidentally let him go, Arthur’s threat was
enough. “Th-That man,” He muttered, pointing up at the man who had just spoken.
He felt terrible, knowing he was sentencing the man to death, but he had to
save himself.
“Good. Your punishment shall be reduced,” said Arthur, putting pressure on
Alfred’s gut once more. “Just shy of death. Unfortunately,” he added, turning
to the man responsible, “I can’t say the same for you.”
“Wh-what? No!” screamed the man as the others grabbed him by the arms to hold
him in place. “It’s not my fault! It’s not my fault! I don’t even know how he
got out! PLEASE!”
“Take him to the cell beside Alfred’s,” ordered Arthur, jerking his thumb in
the direction of the hatch that led below deck. “We can’t skin him this close
to shore.”
“NO! God, please, no!” cried the man, who’d begun sobbing incoherently. “I’ll
do anything, please! Please don’t kill me!”
That was all that could be heard as he was dragged below deck, his heels
digging into the deck. Arthur sighed. “You can always tell someone’s true
character by the way they act when they know they’re going to die.” He brushed
his hair out of his face and smiled down at Alfred. “How pathetic.”
Alfred watched as the man was dragged below deck. Sure, a small part of him was
glad to see the man going, remembering just how cruel he had been. But he still
couldn’t help but feel a bit bad. He’d ask the pirate for a quicker death for
the man if not for the boot pressing painfully in his stomach and the fact that
Arthur was even more angry at him.
“Williams!” barked Arthur, his mood still sour. “You’re in charge of
negotiations. I won’t have us losing gold because of this incident! Get
moving!”
“Yes, sir!” said one of the men, bringing his arm up and motioning for the
others to pick up the nearby crates. “Come on, you lot! We’ve got work to do!”
Arthur turned his attention back to his disobedient little pet. He lifted his
foot, then stomped on Alfred’s belly once again before he got off, grabbed
Alfred by the collar of his dress, and hoisted him up onto his feet. “So, you
thought you could get away from Captain Arthur Kirkland, did you?”
Alfred coughed, hacking and sucking in air before he was suddenly yanked up. He
kept quiet at the question, knowing that a no would just be a lie but a yes
would just make Arthur even more upset. “I-I’m sorry..” he whimpered, legs
feeling weak. “Please, I’m sorry.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel bad?” asked Arthur, letting go with one hand
so he could punch Alfred right in the eye. “Am I supposed to allow you to go
without punishment because you gave me an insincere apology?” He laughed, and
spit in his face. “You’re even stupider than I thought. But don’t fret, love.
You did as I asked. So I won’t kill you.” He beckoned for one of the pirates
that appeared to be about to grab a crate to come over. “You might wish you
could die, though.”
Alfred screamed as he was punched, head rolling back. It hurt, Alfred knowing
he’d probably have a swollen black eye later. “Wh-What are you gonna do to me?”
he asked, tears running down his face.
The man Arthur had beckoned for came up from behind and grabbed Alfred, holding
him in a full nelson and leaving him unable to escape or defend himself.
“Well, first of all,” said Arthur, raising his leg to kick Alfred straight in
the gut, “we’re going to have a little confession of our own.” The second one
was even higher, striking him square in the chest. “I want you to apologize for
all of your sins. But not the ones you know. Seeing as I’m God on this ship,
you’ll be apologizing for all of your crimes against me. We’ve already covered
running away.” He slammed his heel against Alfred’s shin. “Next, I want an
apology for lying about being sorry.”
Alfred was barely left standing, his legs shaking and his entire body sore. “I-
I’m sorry I lied earlier,” he coughed, hoping that would be good enough for the
man. Even now his apology wasn’t sincere but he couldn’t exactly force himself
to feel a certain way.
“Good,” said Arthur, setting his leg down and opting to punch Alfred with a
right hook across his face; he was careful not to use enough force to pop his
jaw out, but he made sure that he was only just short of doing so. “Now tell me
you’re sorry for being such an ugly slut, unworthy of my attention.”
Again, Alfred could only scream as he was hit. He swore he was tasting some
blood, quickly checking with his tongue to make sure all his teeth were still
intact. “I-I’m sorry I’m an ugly slut who doesn’t deserve your attention,” he
whimpered, sniffling a bit.
“There’s my good pet,” said Arthur, cupping his bruised cheek. He was covered
in bruises by then, both from Arthur’s beatings, and those of the priest back
in the customs house. “I don’t ask for very much, you know. Just that you
submit to your master. I’ve been very fair to you; I could simply beat you
whenever you disobey, but instead I’ve gone so far as to reward you for good
behavior.” He pulled his hand away, then smacked Alfred across the face. “When,
I wonder, will all my efforts sink into that thick skull of yours? When will
you be a good little dog?” He took a step back, seeing Alfred’s trembling legs.
“Tie him to the mast.”
“Which way, sir?” asked the pirate holding Alfred up. “With his back or chest
exposed?”
“Chest facing the mast. I want his back exposed. Don’t bind his legs, and make
sure you tie his arms low enough that he’s made to bend over.”
Alfred was sure he was going to be used again by the pirates, opening his mouth
to beg but only having a sob escaping his throat. He’d surely pass out by the
time this was all over. He was already so tired and exhausted from the
attempted exorcism after all.
“Oh, what’s the matter, poppet?” cooed Arthur as Alfred was forcefully stripped
of his bloomers and dragged towards the mast. “Are you afraid you’ll collapse?”
He took a look around. One of the men was bringing a crate back onto the ship.
“Is that empty? Put it under him, so he’s bent over the crate when you tie him
up. Can’t have him collapsing on me.”
Alfred was dragged over, arms tied around the mast with the empty crate
underneath him. He was still standing but forced to bend over, his stomach
against the hard crate. “Wh-What are you gonna do to me?” he asked, trying to
crane his head to look at Arthur.
“Well, I’ve already whipped you,” said Arthur, appearing indecisive, though the
looks on the faces of the crew and the way they seemed to know exactly how to
position him without even being told said otherwise. “I could whip you across
the chest, instead, but I don’t want any of your little pleasure buttons
getting shredded.” One of the men had retrieved what appeared to be a rod with
a certain shape on the end, like the sort of tool used to brand cows. Another
carried over a rusty iron bucket full of all sorts of flammable material, like
dry grass and wood. From there, they filled it with some sort of oil, then
pulled a tinderbox out of their pocket. They pulled their hands back quickly
after igniting the fire, which roared in the bucket. Finally, the rod was
placed into the fire, its purpose all too obvious.
Alfred did his best to look behind him, eyes going wide as he saw the brand. He
had been a farmer after all, he wasn’t stupid. “Please, please don’t!” he
screamed, flinching a bit as the fire was set. He had a feeling of where Arthur
was going to brand him, more tears flowing down his face.
“What’s the problem?” asked Arthur, letting go of the metal rod. It would take
some time to heat up; he would have to have his fun toying with the poor
bastard while he waited. “You took the earring so well. This should be
nothing.” That was a lie, of course. He knew from experience that the pain of a
brand was much worse than the pain of getting a piercing on the earlobe. He
slapped Alfred’s exposed bottom, still covered in mostly-healed whip marks, and
still bruised from the previous day’s punishment.
Alfred whimpered, turning his head back and leaning it against the mast.
Begging was useless, the pirate would brand him no matter what and it was best
to just go along with it. Still, after today’s events he abandoned any hope for
a rescue.
With the metal still only partially warmed, Arthur took the opportunity to
raise his leg and prod Alfred’s sack with his boot; his limp cock wasn’t
exactly easy to reach from such a position, but it was still pressed helplessly
against the wooden crate. “Do you want to beg for mercy, Alfred? Maybe I should
brand right here, instead!” he joked, applying a bit of pressure to his
captive’s exposed scrotum.
It was painful, but nothing compared to what the branding would be. “N-No
please not there,” he begged, voice barely coming out. He really didn’t want
his man bits to be ruined like that. “A-Anywhere but there.”
Arthur pressed a little harder. “It would be so easy to crush them, like you
are now. You don’t deserve them, anyway.” He pulled his leg back, and gave them
a light kick from below. He loved the look of absolute desperation on Alfred’s
face. “Beg for mercy. If you cry hard enough, maybe I’ll let you keep it.” He
pulled a knife from his pocket. “Or I could make a true woman out of you.”
“P-Please don’t,” Alfred sobbed, pain pooling down in his stomach from being
kicked in such a sensitive area. “P-Please don’t do that, please,” he was
getting hysterical, his sobbing and blubbering making less and less sense.
“Not even your begging is any good,” said Arthur, moving to Alfred’s side and
reaching around to press the tip of the blade against the exposed underside of
his cock. “You’re supposed to offer me whatever I want. Plead with me to
forgive you. Tell me you’ll never do it again.” He pushed the knife just a
little more against Alfred’s vulnerable sex and smiled. “Tell me how unworthy
you are.”
“I-I’m unworthy,” Alfred whimpered, trying to shy away from the cold blade
against his sac. “A-And I’ll do whatever you want just please forgive me,” It
had to be a bluff, it just had to be.
“You’re simply awful at this,” scolded Arthur, turning to look at the rod that
one of his men was still holding in the fire. They lifted it up, and it
appeared to be taking on a mild red glow. Just a little longer, and it would be
ready. As they put the rod back into the flaming bucket, he continued applying
pressure to the knife. “I shouldn’t have to tell you everything that you have
to say. Be creative. Tell me all the ways you’ll be my good little slut! What
sorts of things do you intend to do for me, as my pet?”
Alfred wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind to be thinking of such things
although the knife against him was rather good persuasion. “I-I’ll uh, wh-
whatever you want,” He didn’t know what all he could do really, aside from what
they had already done. “S-Suck you or bend over I-I won’t complain either, I
can even pretend like I enjoy it.”
Arthur sighed. “You colonists are so ineloquent,” he said, deciding he couldn’t
really hope for better than that. He removed the knife from its spot against
Alfred’s genitalia and placed it back in his coat pocket. “I should cut it off,
but I suppose I’ll applaud your effort. Besides, the blood would make such a
terrible mess.” He walked over to the rod and took it from the hands of the man
holding it, then shooed them away as he lifted it out of the flames. The metal
was bright red; perfect. “You may want to take a deep breath, darling.”
Alfred could feel the heat from where he was, keeping his forehead pressed
against the mast and his gaze downwards. He took a few deep breaths, trying to
prepare himself. It would be over soon he kept telling himself, he just had to
endure it for a little longer.
“Hold him steady. I don’t want him messing it up because he squirms!” ordered
Arthur, and two men stood over Alfred to place their hands on his lower back
and keep him pinned firmly in place. “And gag him so his screams aren’t heard
from port.” He’d be able to explain it away as Alfred’s insanity, if push came
to shove, but he really preferred not to have to toss anything aside and drag
Alfred out of sight before someone came aboard. One of the men shoved a piece
of cloth into Alfred’s mouth, serving the double purpose of muffling him, and
giving him something to bite down on. Finally, without any further delay,
Arthur pressed the burning metal to Alfred’s round buttocks.
Searing pain shot through Alfred's body, feeling his skin sizzle and burn. His
screams muffled thankfully by the cloth. It was way worse than the piercing,
even worse than the whip, his legs giving out and only having the crate as well
as the two pirates to hold him up.
It didn’t even last a minute, but Arthur was absolutely delighted by Alfred’s
agonized howls. “You see? You wouldn’t have to go through this if you just did
as you were told.” The skin that had been branded was a mixture of red and
black; it would take some time before it fully healed. Yet another thing to add
to the list of things Alfred needed to recover from. The letters had come out
nicely; his men had done a good job of holding his pet still. He would have to
remember to give them a little something extra for their trouble. He couldn’t
help but admire the way his initials looked; it was probably the best branding
job yet.
Alfred continued to scream even as the brand was pulled away. It felt like his
flesh was literally being cooked, the smell of burnt flesh surrounding them. He
wouldn't be able to lay on his back for a long time he knew, his entire body
trembling in pain.
It wasn’t over just yet, though. Unwilling to have such a perfect brand get
infected, Arthur took a bottle of alcohol that one of the men had brought over
for just such a purpose, and poured it over the burned flesh. “Poor thing. You
must be in such pain right now. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get a front-row
seat to watch the execution of the man responsible for letting you out. It’s
partially his fault that you’re suffering right now.” He moved over to let
someone wrap bandages around the the afflicted area; they had to be at a
diagonal angle in order to cover it without blocking off Alfred’s rectum or
genitalia. “I don’t suppose you’d like a few shots of rum to numb the pain?” He
ripped the cloth out of Alfred’s mouth so he could speak.
The alcohol only made the pain worse, although Alfred figured he should be
thankful that the wound was being cleaned at least. “I-I don’t wanna watch it,”
he said, voice raspy and quiet from all his screaming. “I-I’ll take some rum
though,” he said, knowing it would help dull the pain at least a little.
“I don’t care what you want,” said Arthur flatly. “It’s your own fault, you
know. I never would have known of his incompetence had you stayed in your cell.
His death is your doing.”
“He was an asshole, anyway,” muttered one of the pirates to another. They
didn’t seem to have a huge appreciation for life. Unsurprising, given that
almost every man on the ship had most likely been exposed to death before.
“You will watch his execution,” said Arthur. “Now, someone fetch a glass and a
bottle of rum.” He began untying Alfred, trusting that he wouldn’t run off
again. Not only was he weakened by the abuse, but all the officials thought he
was just a madman.
Alfred’s arms were shaking as he was untied, sinking down to his knees now. His
legs were too weak to hold him up, his entire body feeling like a wet noodle.
He didn’t want to watch an execution, sure the pirate had been mean, and Alfred
didn’t particularly like the man, but he wasn’t sure if he could watch someone
being murdered like that.
An idea formed in Arthur’s mind. A terrible, awful idea. Something mind-
numbingly cruel, to shatter his runaway pet’s spirit. “You know what?” said
Arthur, appearing to reconsider, and kneeling beside Alfred. “I won’t have you
watch the execution. My apologies, that’s a dreadful idea.”
Alfred sighed in relief at that, using the crate to lean against. “Thanks, I
don’t think I could do it,” his puritan upbringing had taught him that murder
was wrong. Sure the puritans did hangings but his village for the most part had
been small and peaceful so Alfred was never really exposed to such things.
“You’re right, it’s not right for someone your age to watch an execution,” said
Arthur, his eyes growing cold and cruel, even more so than usual. “If you’re
going to live on this ship with the rest of us, you have to know how to kill.
I’m going to have you execute him.”
Even some of his other men stopped to look at him with shock; certainly, they’d
all had to kill for the first time at one point or another, but Arthur had
never explicitly asked one of his pets to do so. Usually he preferred to keep
them as docile and non-hostile as could be, at least until they finished their
training. But Arthur had a feeling that Alfred was the type of person who would
be broken more by being forced to kill than by simply being abused. If he could
get him to do something so overtly cruel, perhaps he would grow more obedient
in order to cope. Either way, it would be entertaining.
“Wh-What?” Alfred asked, eyes going wide as he turned to look at the pirate.
“Y-You’re joking right?” It had to be a joke, a cruel joke that the pirate was
making just to torment him further. There was no way he could execute another
person. How would he even do it? Would he have to shoot the other? Push him
overboard?
“Is something the matter, Alfred?” asked Arthur, placing his hand up under
Alfred’s chin. “You seemed so eager to kill me before. Didn’t you come at me
with a knife? What makes killing him any harder than killing me? It’s not as
though he intentionally let you go. He’s keeping you captive just as much as I
am, and he doesn’t care if you’re raped or killed.” He took Alfred by the arm
and stood up to try and help his captive to his feet.
Alfred stood up, legs shaking as he held on to the pirate for support. Yes, he
had tried to take Arthur’s life, but that was so he could escape, killing this
man wouldn’t help him any. “Please don’t make me,” he whimpered. “I’ll be good,
I promise.”
“You promised me that before,” said Arthur, pulling Alfred’s arm up around his
shoulders. “And yet here we are.” He began guiding Alfred back below deck, to
his cell; he couldn’t have his pet trying to escape again, in his desperation.
“Seeing as you’ll be in the cell right next to his, with nothing between you
but bars, I’m going to have to advise you not to get too well-acquainted. It’ll
only make tomorrow harder.” He chuckled. “Not that he’ll be happy to see you,
anyway.”
Alfred whimpered, almost asking if he could sleep with Arthur that night,
although he knew the answer would of course be a no. Hopefully the man wouldn’t
try and talk to him while he was down in the brig, he just wanted this entire
thing to be over with.
Predictably enough, when they entered the room, the man in the cell beside
Alfred’s immediately reached through the bars in an attempt to grab Alfred.
Arthur batted his hand away as they walked by and rolled his eyes.
“You bitch! YOU FUCKING BITCH!” screamed the man, his eyes wide with both rage
and terror. “I’LL KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT!”
“Incorrect,” said Arthur, shoving Alfred into his own cell. “It’s he who will
be killing you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, you two.”
Alfred fell to his knees as he was shoved in his cell, scooting so he was as
far away from the man as possible. “Your fault for leaving the keys out,” he
mumbled, crossing his arms and looking the other way.
Arthur left without much fanfare, though the other pirate had only just begun.
“You cock-sucking whore!” he screamed, his eyes filled with tears. “Did you ask
him for special permission to kill me, you cunt? Funny how that works out! Kill
the one person who afforded you a chance to get out! Do you really love your
sweet little husband all that much?” He reached through the bars, even though
he knew he couldn’t reach. “You bitch! You bitch! Skinned alive? Oh God…” He
looked like he was about to throw up. “Oh God…”
“He’s making me do it!” Alfred screamed, fresh tears flowing down his cheeks as
the man yelled at him. “I hate Arthur, I hate him!” he reached up to cover his
face, body trembling as he sobbed. Skinning someone alive? It sounded so slow
and painful, he wasn’t sure if he could do such a thing.
“And who made you run away?” asked the pirate, his voice shaky. He wasn’t even
looking at Alfred anymore. He was just staring into the palms of his hands,
pale as a ghost. “You know him! You should have known what would happen! Oh my
God! Oh my God! Who’s going to take care of my daughter now? Who’s going to put
a roof over her head, and pay for her medicine? I’m going to die. My daughter
is going to die, at just eight years old! Because of you!”
Alfred wrapped his arms around his legs, pulling them up to his chest. He felt
guilty now, although hearing the pirate speak of his daughter only reminded him
of his own family. “And you guys ruined my family so I guess we’re even,” he
muttered, knowing how cruel that sounded.
The man’s eyes darkened. He turned to Alfred, and began to laugh, loud and
hollow. “You know, I’d heard you were a Puritan before all of this. I’m
honestly a bit surprised that someone like you could say that. Of course, with
such a mindset, it really is no wonder that you’ve been forsaken.” He collapsed
to the floor, sobbing and cackling simultaneously. “I’ve fought a lot of men,
but never have I heard one so callous about the death of a child! Now I know
what the captain sees in you. Your heart is as cold as the rest of us. You may
pretend to be a victim, but your true colors have to show at some point. You’re
just as sick and deranged as everyone else here. You don’t care how many
innocents get hurt as long as you’re fine.” He slammed his fist against the
ground, his face contorted into an expression that could only be described as
psychotic. “Maria! Maria, I’m sorry!”
Alfred wasn’t happy about hearing that this man’s child would die, but he was
angry that the man who could have helped ruin his family was now sobbing over
his daughter. “I’m not cruel like Arthur!” he shouted, not wanting to hear such
a thing. “My family has been ruined as well so sorry if I have a hard time
sympathizing with someone who’s working for the man who kidnapped me from my
own family.”
“You think I’m here by choice?” snapped the man, unable to even sit up anymore.
“You really know nothing! I was kidnapped, same as you! I couldn’t even kill
anyone the first time we got into a fight on the God-forsaken ship! Not even
the pirates! Why do you think I was assigned to take care of you? I was the
lowest of the low, responsible for washing the deck and cleaning up the mess
these brutes leave behind!” He pressed his hand to his forehead and sobbed. “I
just wanted to go home and take care of my daughter. But they said that if I
left, they would kill my whole family!”
Alfred felt like throwing up, guilt and shame washing over himself. “Sorry..”
he muttered, burying his face in his legs as he sobbed. He could try and beg
Arthur to spare the man but it seemed pointless, Arthur was rather stubborn
there was no way the pirate would spare the other.
“Sorry?” repeated the man, burying his face in his hands. “I’m going to die.
Lily is going to die. My wife Maria… I hope she can move back in with her
family.” He didn’t make much noise after that. Instead, he opted to simply
remain on the hard wooden floor and weep. “Oh, Lily… You’ll go to Heaven, won’t
you?” It was like he no longer registered Alfred as being in the room. “I’m
sorry, Lily. Your papa won’t be able to make it to that place…”
Alfred layed down on his rags, covering his head with one in the hopes that he
could attempt to block out the man’s sobbing. It would only be worse tomorrow
when he had to actually kill the man.
- - -
It was difficult to tell when the morning came. The pirate in the cell beside
Alfred’s was up first, perhaps because he didn’t appear to have slept at all
throughout the night. There were dark rings under his eyes, which seemed dull
and lifeless.
“Hey. Alfred,” he said out of nowhere. “Are you awake?”
Alfred stirred in his sleep, waking up as the pirate spoke. He didn’t sleep too
well but he was too exhausted from the other day to not sleep. “Yeah?” he
answered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, wondering if it was morning.
“Can you do me a favor?” asked the man, his voice shaky. Slowly, he lifted his
head, and turned towards Alfred. “Please. If you have a heart, I ask that you
at least hear me out…”
“What is it?” Alfred asked, sitting on his knees to avoid hurting himself. It
probably had something to do with the man’s wife or daughter he figured.
“You’ll be killing me, right?” said the man, his eyes welling up with tears
once more. It was clear from how red and puffy they were that he’d spent almost
the entire night crying. “Arthur wanted me skinned… Please, I know you’ll be
punished in some way or another, but I’m begging you to kill me quickly. You’re
a strong young man, aren’t you? When he gives you the knife, just stab me in
the chest, or something. Please. I… I don’t want to be skinned alive.”
“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Alfred replied, nodding his head. It would get him in more
trouble but there was no way he would be able to slowly skin someone. He could
just stab the man in the chest, let him bleed to death.
“Thank you,” said the man, nodding slowly. “I-I’m sorry for calling you awful
names. I’d have done the same thing, if I were you. I’m just… It’s hard, you
know? I wish I could just see their faces, one last time…” He wiped the tears
from his eyes. “I don’t think you ever will, but on the off-chance you ever
meet my wife, Maria Dolores, please tell her that I love her with all my
heart.”
Alfred nodded as he started to cry again, wondering when Arthur would come down
to get them. “I’m never gonna see my family again either but if I ever happen
to meet her I will,” he sighed, his will to escape diminishing bit by bit.
The man looked at the ground as footsteps began resounding through the room.
“Thank you again, Alfred.” The sound of someone walking down the steps grew
steadily louder. “I’m sorry for whatever Arthur does to you as punishment. And…
Good luck with everything else. May God guide you.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Alfred muttered, starting to sob again. He felt even worse now
that the man was treating him kindly. It would have been way easier to kill the
other if he was like the other pirates.
It wasn’t Arthur that appeared before them that time. Rather, it was a pair of
burly men with large grins on their faces. It was clear from the amount of
rocking that the ship had begun to move again, especially with the windy
weather.
“It’s time,” said one ominously. He opened the door to the man’s cell, while
the other one opened the door to Alfred’s. Both were dragged out by the hair.
Alfred screamed as he was suddenly grabbed and yanked to his feet, being
dragged out along with the other man and up onto the deck. His heart was
pounding as he tried to think of the best way to kill the other quickly. He
knew where the heart was, perhaps if he could stab there...
Arthur was already present, along with a semicircle of other men. They’d
brought a strange, triangular structure out on deck, made entirely of wood.
There were chains in each corner; two in the one on top for both hands, and one
on each of the two corners at the bottom for the ankles. The pirate was
stripped down to nothing, then shoved forward into the device and locked into
place. Arthur handed Alfred a sharp knife.
“I trust that you’ve skinned an animal before,” he said simply. “Go on.”
Alfred's hand was shaking as he held the knife, his mind racing with thoughts.
He had to keep his promise and kill the man quickly. Sure he had skinned
animals before but they were always dead when he did it. Taking a deep breath
Alfred lunged forward, the knife stabbing into the man's chest as deep as
Alfred could get it.
The man screamed in pain as the blade pierced his heart; even so, it was better
than what Arthur had had planned, and he looked at Alfred with sad, but
grateful eyes. At least, until Arthur shoved Alfred out of the way, a second
knife in his hand while the first remained embedded in his chest.
“I can’t trust you to do anything right, can I?” asked Arthur, staring down at
Alfred. “Seeing as he still has a little time left, I’ll just have to show you
how it’s done.” Arthur stepped around to the man’s back and slided down his
shoulder blades, causing the dying man to scream out in agony. With a practiced
hand, he slipped the blade under the skin and began cutting away, peeling it
off of the muscles beneath.
"S-stop!" Alfred screamed, watching with horror as Arthur began to peel the
man's skin off. At least he would die faster since he was bleeding pretty
heavily Alfred told himself. "Just let him die please!"
The man continued to writhe in absolute agony as Arthur continued, calmly
pulling the skin off until the man’s entire back was just a red, bloody mess.
He didn’t get much further than that; the man’s movements quickly began to
slow, his screams dying out. Less than two minutes after Arthur began, he was
completely limp.
All Alfred could do was watch, sighing in relief as he saw the man finally die.
At least his death was quicker this way, even if it wasn't instant.
“Such a shame. If you hadn’t stabbed him in the chest, I would have been able
to take off his shoulders,” said Arthur, looking disappointed. The other men
laughed at the scene, and the captain forced Alfred to his feet. He took his
captive by the wrist, then forced his hand up against the red flesh that he’d
exposed underneath the skin of the man’s back. “What do you think? It’s still
warm. How does your first kill feel, Alfred?” He hadn’t done the skinning, but
he’d still stabbed a man in the heart. “Congratulations. I henceforth name you
a true pirate!”
Alfred screamed as he was forced to touch the corpse, doing his best to pull
his hand away. "S-stop.." he whimpered, disgusted at the blood he saw on his
palm. He felt like throwing up and probably would have if he had any food in
him.
Arthur grabbed him by the hair and smashed his face right into the bloody mess
that was the man’s back, rubbing it against it as though he were burying a
dog’s nose in a mess it made on the rug. “Take a good, long look, Alfred. This
was your doing. Your disobedience. He would still be alive, if not for you.”
Alfred's nose was filled with the stench of blood, mixing with his tears as it
was smeared over his face. He kept quiet, holding in his outbursts. He was
enough trouble as is there was no point in making the pirate even more angry.
At last, Arthur pulled Alfred’s blood-covered face away. “You look good like
that, you know,” he said, leaning forward to lick some of it off of Alfred’s
cheek. “I suppose I should have expected you to disobey, but I thought for sure
you’d have tried to simply not kill him. I’m rather impressed that you actually
managed to plunge the knife into his chest. Ordinarily I’d be a bit more upset
about losing a member of my crew, but he was rather useless, anyway. Besides,
we’ll be getting more soon.” He stroked Alfred’s upper arm, admiring the
devastated look on his face. He’d never forced any of his pets to kill someone
before. It was actually rather attractive. “And you’ll be an important part of
that plan.”
All Alfred could do was stand there in Arthur’s arms, body trembling from what
had just happened. He had just stabbed a man, even if it was against his will
he had just taken another’s life. It would have been easier he knew if it would
have been one of the men from the other day, but it wasn’t, it was someone who
was innocent. “P-Please, just let me go,” he muttered, just wanting to go back
down to the brig and not see anyone else.
“Worry not. The rest of your kills today shall be much less direct,” said
Arthur. The men had already begun to raise a distress flag. They were far
enough out to sea that they wouldn’t happen across dozens of ships, but still
close enough that the wait wouldn’t be terribly long before one came along. In
the meantime, some of the sailors were already pushing the corpse out of the
way, though not before Arthur had the chance to shove Alfred to the ground
where a puddle of blood had formed. “A shame we have to ruin your dress like
this, but you have to look convincing. I’ll buy you a new one at the next port.
Unless, of course, we get lucky, and our prey happens to possess one or two.”
“C-Convincing?” Alfred asked, not understanding what the pirate meant. He
didn’t recognize the flag either that they had just put up. “What are you guys
planning?” He sat up the best he could, sitting on his knees and wiping a bit
of blood from his face.
“It’s quite simple, really. Practically routine,” said Arthur as the others
went to lower the anchor. “We’re going to go below deck. You’re going to stay
out here, lay down, and pretend to be wounded. Or sit, if you’d rather do that.
It doesn’t matter what position you’re in. The point is to get them to board
the ship, then ambush them while they attempt to come to your aid.”
“A-Ambush?” Alfred asked, hands gripping his dress tightly. He was supposed to
just lay there and let others board the ship just so they could be killed? He
had an idea of maybe warning the men who would come on the ship, but he wasn’t
sure if it would work or not.
“And since you’ve proven you can’t be trusted to be loyal…” added Arthur,
pulling a strip of cloth from his pocket and shoving the fabric from Alfred’s
branding back into his mouth. “I’m afraid I have to gag you. Terribly sorry,
love, but I can’t allow you to warn them before they get here.” He tied the
piece of fabric around Alfred’s head and over his mouth so he couldn’t spit the
gag out. Another pirate came around from behind to bind his wrists together
behind his back, then tie up his knees and ankles. “Don’t worry so much. We’re
going to try to kill as few as possible. After all, all of these recent
executions have left us a bit short on manpower.”
It was as if the pirate had read his mind, Alfred trying to talk through the
gag but nothing came out but a bunch of muffled words. At least they wouldn’t
be killing as many people Alfred thought. Hopefully whoever Arthur decided to
keep on his ship would be nicer than his current crew.
“Just to make sure that you don’t move to far,” said Arthur, taking one end of
the rope ties around Alfred’s ankles and securing it around the ship’s mast.
The last thing he needed was to have his pet wandering out of sight. An empty
ship with a distress flag was much more suspicious than one with a person on
it. Especially if that person looked injured. Ordinarily they would just use
pig blood, but since they had the puddle handy already, it was fine.
Alfred whimpered, struggling a bit in his bindings despite the fact that he
knew it was useless. He’d just have to lay there and wait for someone to board
the ship. Better than any other punishment he figured, although the smell of
blood was starting to make him feel a bit nauseous.
At last, Arthur stood up straight to wipe the sweat from his brow. The men were
already hurrying below deck. Just when it seemed the situation for Alfred was
as bad as it would get, a few stray droplets of rain began falling from the
cloudy sky. “Rotten luck, that,” mused Arthur, turning around to go after the
others. “Have a good wait, love.”
Alfred sighed as everyone left, a few sprinkles of rain starting to fall on
him. At least it would wash the blood away, plus it wasn’t a cold rain so in a
way it was rather soothing.
Minutes passed. The rain began to fall harder, and the gusts of wind roared
louder, blowing across the deck and spitting droplets towards Alfred like
liquid bullets. The sun wasn’t even visible anymore, completely obscured by the
pitch-black clouds.
At long last, something appeared on the horizon, though it wasn’t immediately
visible. From the deck, sails came into view; sure enough, a large trade
galleon was approaching. They came closer, and closer, until at last they
stopped right alongside the Unicorn, and a plank was put out to form a bridge
between the two ships. There was a sound of shouting, and men rushed over to
Alfred’s prone form.
“Are you okay, miss?” asked one of the men, running to get closer.
Muffled sounds came from behind Alfred’s gag, again struggling in his bindings
to try and break free. He was soaked now in the rain, the blood having washed
off his skin leaving only his dress stained.
“She’s alive!” called one of the men that was further away. “Get the doctor!”
The man closest to Alfred knelt down to check on him, but his eyes widened when
he actually got a good look at his face. “Wait a minute…” he began, but it was
too late. Pirates burst out from below deck and swarmed the group, with several
running to the plank bridging the gap between the two ships to go raid it.
All Alfred could do was lay there and watch as the crew members came up,
watching the chaos surrounding him. It wasn’t too violent so far from what
Alfred could see, although from his angle and the rain getting in his eyes he
really couldn’t see much.
Arthur ran out into the fray along with the others, shooting down two men one
after the other, then stabbing a third in the back with his rapier. The
fighting was over almost as quickly as it began, with a handful of bodies
littering the deck; those that were still alive were very quickly surrounded
and disarmed, corralled against the portside.
“Those that wish to live, please raise your hands,” said Arthur. All hands were
raised. “Good. You have two options, now. You can serve aboard this ship and
keep your lives, or you can refuse and die. Any objections?”
“I’ll never serve on a pirate ship!” shouted one of the men defiantly.
Bang! He dropped to the ground, a bullet in his head.
“Anyone else have any objections?”
The group was quiet.
“Good. Take them to the brig to await further training,” ordered Arthur. “And
clean up all these bodies.”
Alfred flinched at the gunshot, looking around at the bodies surrounding him.
He thought Arthur had said he’d be sparing lives, although it was rather stupid
to believe a pirate about that. At least he would have some company in the brig
he told himself, trying hard to find a silver lining to the situation.
With all those matters taken care of, Arthur knelt down to begin untying
Alfred. “You did an excellent job, darling. It must have been just awful,
waiting out here in the rain.” He lifted Alfred up and looked over his dress,
completely ruined with dirt and bloodstains. “We got lucky. Merchant ships are
much easier picking than a ship transporting, say, troops. And there’s much
more loot to be had.” Already, his men were carrying barrels back over from the
other ship to theirs, as well as lowering the distress flag to raise one of
Great Britain’s; even if he didn’t feel like he owed them his loyalty, it made
it much easier to blend in.
Alfred rubbed his sore arms, sitting up on his knees to get off of the cold,
wet floor. “C-Can I go rest now?” he asked, keeping his gaze down to avoid
looking at the corpses that were on the deck. It wasn’t that many but the scene
still made Alfred feel a bit sick.
“Of course not. You still have to be punished for disobeying orders,” said
Arthur, picking him up bridal-style, his sword sheathed. “What we did just now
wasn’t a punishment. We would have used you as bait regardless.” It wouldn’t be
anything too harsh. Mainly, he just wanted to get Alfred back to his bedroom to
relieve a bit of tension. Keeping a whole crew under control below deck for
almost an hour was harder than it sounded.
Alfred clung to the pirate, hoping that this punishment wouldn’t be that bad.
He’d already been forced to kill someone wasn’t that enough? “What are you
gonna do?” he asked in a quiet voice, a bit scared to find out the answer.
“Nothing too harsh,” answered Arthur honestly, carrying Alfred back to the
captain’s quarters. “We’re no longer at shore, so I want you back in my room
tonight.” He pushed the slightly-ajar door open with his foot, then kicked it
shut behind them. He placed Alfred down on the bed, then went back to lock it.
After that, he pulled a piece of hardtack out of his pocket. “I’m afraid things
are a bit too chaotic at the moment for a romantic dinner. Still, I’m sure
you’re very tired.” He took a bite of the hardtack as though it weren’t a
struggle in the least, and began to chew. Once it was sufficiently softened, he
pressed his lips to Alfred’s, and tried to force it into his mouth.
Alfred winced as he was laid on his back but before he could move the pirate’s
lips were on his own, the disgusting hardtack forced into his mouth. It was so
disgusting, Alfred quickly swallowing it before pulling away and wiping his
mouth with his arm.
“You could at least thank me,” mused Arthur, climbing over Alfred’s body to
straddle him. He pressed his lips to his pet’s neck and began to suck. They
were both soaked from the rain, and water was dripping all over the bed. The
pirate didn’t mind too much, though; he’d slept in far worse conditions. “I
never did give you a shot of rum the other day like I promised, did I? Do your
wounds still hurt? I have a few bottles stashed away, if you’d like.” He sort
of wanted to see if alcohol would loosen Alfred up a bit, and make him a bit
less uptight.
“Um, sure..” Alfred muttered, the rum actually sounding rather good. It would
help with the pain and hopefully help him forget a bit of what had happened
that day. He was breathing heavily now, lying still as Arthur sucked on the
sensitive skin on his neck.
Arthur got back off of him to go retrieve a bottle and a glass. He didn’t grab
the best stuff, of course; he would wait to share that until Alfred was a bit
more behaved. Besides, there still wasn’t a guarantee that he would be able to
drink it. Alcohol was an acquired taste; some diluted it, but most of the men
on the ship drank with the express purpose of getting drunk. He poured Alfred
about a single shot, then held it out to him. “Sit up. I don’t want you
spilling it.”
Alfred sat up as told, taking the shot and quickly drinking it. It burnt all
right, goosebumps rising on his skin as warmth washed over his body. He cringed
as he finished it, coughing a bit. “Tastes gross.”
“People don’t drink rum straight because they like it, darling. They drink it
because it’s alcohol,” said Arthur, setting both the glass and the bottle down
on the table before he climbed over Alfred’s body once again. He had such a
cute look on his face; most people would be turned on by a positive expression,
but the pirate was quite fond of displeased faces. “It should help you feel a
little better, at least.”
Alfred nodded, his head feeling ever so slightly woozy as he laid back down.
His ass still hurt quite a bit but he could bear with the pain for now at
least. “It’s still gross,” he muttered, the taste still in his mouth.
“Is that so? Does this help?” asked Arthur, smashing their lips together and
pushing his tongue into Alfred’s mouth. The taste of rum was still fresh, and
he was all too happy to spent a minute or two tasting every inch.
Alfred whimpered as he was forcefully kissed, keeping his mouth open and
letting Arthur do as he pleased. He wouldn’t kiss back, it felt way too
intimate.
Bored by Alfred’s lack of a reaction, Arthur pulled his lips away and re-
positioned himself between his legs. His pet still lacked any sort of
undergarments, wearing nothing but his wet, blood-stained dress. Arthur began
to peel it off of his body. “Sit up and help me get this thing off.”
Alfred did as told, lifting his arms up so the dress could be removed. He was
glad to get the thing off, the water starting to make him rather cold, plus the
smell of blood had been making him a bit sick. “Hurts to sit,” he mumbled,
shifting a bit in an attempt to get comfortable.
“I know, love, I know,” said Arthur, tossing the dress to the floor, but making
sure it didn’t land on his beloved rug. “You can get back down now.” He,
himself, began to pull off his own clothing, the wet fabric terribly
uncomfortable against his skin. He would have to put it back on later, when he
went to check on his men, but he wanted to be free of it during coitus.
Alfred lied back down, the position a bit more comfortable since he wasn’t
putting all of his weight on his bottom. He watched as the pirate undressed
himself, mind a bit fuzzy from the shot he had taken.
Arthur tossed his own clothing beside Alfred’s on the floor, then immediately
leaned in to start licking and nibbling on Alfred’s exposed nipples. He
couldn’t help but feel like a change of pace was in order. It felt like they
were constantly doing it in the same position, with the same preliminaries.
Perhaps, in his alcohol-fogged state, Alfred would be a bit more receptive to
something a bit more unusual. “Do you think you can get to your knees beside
the bed?” he asked, pulling his head back up. “As part of your punishment, I
want to fuck your mouth.”
“S-Sure…” Alfred muttered, not exactly liking the idea but he didn’t exactly
have a choice in the matter. He slid off of the bed and down to his knees on
the floor, more comfortable in this position at least.
Arthur himself sat on the edge of the bed, his legs apart so that Alfred could
access his cock. “Go on and put it in your mouth,” he said, placing a hand on
his pet’s head and giving him a gentle push in that direction. It was only
half-hard; he expected that that would change once Alfred’s lips were wrapped
around it.
Alfred nodded, opening his mouth and taking in the tip. It was gross but things
could be worse be figured, using his tongue to lick around the head. The
alcohol was helping matters as well, mind just a little hazy from the one shot,
after all he had never had alcohol before.
The compliance of his pretty pet was a pleasant surprise. Arthur had expected a
bit more of a fight. It seemed all of his hard work training him was beginning
to pay off; even if Alfred still didn’t like it, the fact that he would go
along with it so easily was a good sign. Even if he was being helped along by
the alcohol. “Deeper.”
It wasn't just the alcohol making Alfred obedient, every time his mind was
filled with thoughts of disobedience he remembered the punishments he had
received, that alone enough to make him compliant. He moved down a little,
taking in about half of Arthur's cock.
Arthur’s lips parted a little in order to take in more air, a quiet gasp
escaping his throat as Alfred took him in further. “Suck a little harder,” he
ordered, resisting the urge to push Alfred’s head all the way down his length.
By that point, he was completely hard.
Alfred took a deep breath moving up a bit before going back down, trying not to
gag himself. A bit of drool ran down his chin as he worked on coating Arthur's
cock with saliva, knowing the more he did himself the less angry the pirate
would be.
“Not bad, for your first time,” said Arthur breathily, twirling the little
clump of stray hairs on Alfred’s head around his finger. “I suppose you’ve done
it once before, but not quite like this.” He was careful not to let the
sensations overpower him. His last pet hadn’t been nearly as good with his
mouth. In fact, one of his pets had tried to bite his cock off. A bullet to the
head had been all he needed to get them off.
Alfred whimpered, closing his eyes and doing what he thought he should do,
moving up and down on Arthur’s cock. He could only go about halfway down before
he would start choking, hoping that would be good enough for Arthur.
At long last, Arthur pushed Alfred off of his length. “Good job, love. Since
you’re doing so well, I thought we could try something a bit different
tonight.” He scooted himself a bit further up the bed, then got on his back as
though he were going to sleep. “Climb on top and put it in. Go on.” He crossed
his arms behind his head and rested it on them.
Alfred climbed back on the bed, getting up so that he was straddling the
pirate. This new position felt even more humiliating than the others, being
forced to do everything himself. Silently he moved down, feeling the tip of
Arthur’s cock push inside of him, causing him to scream out in pain.
“Oh, come now, it’s not nearly as bad as you’re making it out to be,” chided
Arthur, holding out one hand to slide it down Alfred’s hip. To him, it was
silly that his lovely ‘wife’ was still so pained by the whole thing, especially
after how many times they’d done it. It felt like he would never have the
begging, needy pet of his dreams, and that was rather bothersome to him. All he
wanted was a broken-down husk of a human being at his complete beck and call;
was that really so much to ask?
Alfred managed to get all of Arthur’s cock inside him, hands on Arthur’s chest
to brace himself. Slowly he moved up a bit before slamming back down again, a
groan escaping his throat. It felt so strange to be the one in control after
all, although it was nice being able to set his own pace.
Arthur placed both of his hands on Alfred’s hips to help him keep steady,
enjoying the break after the stress of combat. Sure, they never stood a chance
against him, but killing three people in a matter of seconds still required
quite a bit of effort. All Alfred has done was lay there on the floor for about
an hour. Although Arthur hoped to train him, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted him
on the front lines; it would be a shame to spend so much time training him only
to have him get killed.
Alfred’s breathing was heavy as he moved his hips, doing his best to bounce up
and down on Arthur’s cock. He couldn’t help the small gasps and moans that
escaped him every time he moved back down, his own cock starting to get hard.
“That’s a good lad, keep it up,” encouraged Arthur. With Alfred seeming a
little better off, he took one hand off of his hip to place on his pet’s cock,
and began giving it a few strokes in an effort to bring it to full hardness. “I
wonder how you’ll look in nine months when your belly is swollen up…” He
couldn’t help but keep teasing him about that. He wondered how much longer it
would be before he had to tell the truth.
Those words had shaken Alfred out of his stupor, eyes opening up wide as he
heard that. The pirate was lying he kept telling himself, he had to be lying.
Trying to take his mind off of it he kept moving his hips, letting out a loud
moan as he managed to hit his prostate as he moved down.
“What, do you not want to think about it?” said Arthur, intrigued by the look
on Alfred’s face. “My poor pet, in such denial.” He pressed the nail of his
thumb into Alfred’s slit and laughed. The very fact that he looked like he was
honestly wondering whether or not it was true was just pathetic. If Francis had
told him that, he wouldn’t have believed it for a second. “I’ll have to rub a
little more alcohol on that ear piercing of yours… Can’t have it rotting off.”
Alfred groaned, a bit of precum leaking out as Arthur toyed with his cock. He
hated how he couldn’t tell if the pirate was lying or not, too embarrassed to
ask anyone else if it was true or not. He sped his movements up a bit, closing
his eyes again as pleasure washed over him.
Arthur kept moving his hand up and down, his head resting against a feather-
filled pillow. “You may want to slow down a little,” said the pirate,
occasionally lifting his hips up off of the bed to push himself further into
his pet’s warm hole. “We wouldn’t want you to have a miscarriage.”
Alfred nodded, slowing his movements down just a bit as he continued to move up
and down on Arthur’s cock. The alcohol wasn’t helping much, warmth spreading
throughout his body and pleasure building up, his cock leaking a bit more
precum.
“Nn, move your hips side to side,” said Arthur. He bit down on his tongue to
distract himself. It was much easier to get absorbed in pleasure when you
weren’t the one doing all of the work. “And tell me how good you feel.”
“I-I feel really good,” Alfred groaned, sinking all the way down on Arthur’s
cock, moving his hips as he was told. To be honest it did feel a little good,
the pain almost gone and from this angle it was much easier to hit his prostate
every time he sank back donw on Arthur’s cock.
“Keep talking,” said Arthur, reaching up with his free hand to pinch one of his
nipples. He gave it a little tug, and wiggled it about. “Tell me just how much
you love it.” Alfred didn’t appear to like dirty talk very much. It was no
matter. He would grow accustomed to it in due time.
Alfred whimpered as his chest was touched, moaning and gasping in pleasure. “I-
I really love it,” he whimpered, not sure if it was a lie or not. Yes, he hated
it so much but on the other hand it was just feeling so good, and besides he
didn’t exactly have much of a choice in the matter.
Arthur took his hand off of Alfred’s length to reach for his other nipples and
give it the same treatment. “How much do you love it? Learn to listen when your
superiors are talking.”
“I-I like it a lot,” Alfred groaned, not exactly in the right state of mind to
be thinking of a better reply. He whimpered as Arthur’s hand let go of his
cock, almost moving his own down only to end up placing his hands back on
Arthur’s chest.
“What’s the matter, darling? Can’t hold yourself up?” teased Arthur, still
pulling on the hardened nubs on Alfred’s chest. Occasionally, a droplet or two
of water dripped down from his pet’s body to his, the rainwater having not yet
completely dried. “I’m quite impressed by how well you’re doing. I’m almost
tempted to question just how celibate you were before I captured you.”
Alfred’s eyes opened at that, his shoulders trembling. “I-I was a virgin,” he
whimpered, knowing it was just the pirate trying to get to him. He began moving
up and down again on the pirate’s cock, trying to get the other to finish as
soon as possible.
“Oh, I know you were, love. ‘twas merely a compliment. You’re quite skilled,”
said Arthur, knowing very well that the last thing someone trying to convince
themselves that they hated everything that was happening wanted to hear.
“N-No I’m not,” Alfred choked out, trying to hold back his tears that were
forming in his eyes. His cock was achingly hard, desperate to be touched as he
moved his hips, taking all of Arthur in as he sank back down.
“So modest. A good trait for a woman to have,” said Arthur. It didn’t matter
what Alfred said; he would find some way to twist it around and throw it back
at him. “You should have more confidence in yourself, though. You really are
good at this.”
Alfred shut his eyes again, a few tears slipping down his cheeks as he
continued to move, the occasional gasp or moan escaping his throat. He felt so
close to finishing, hoping the pirate would touch him before he did.
At last, feeling himself growing closer to his limit, Arthur went back to
stroking his pet’s needy erection, squeezing it tightly in his hand. He planted
his feet firmly in the bed in order to get the leverage he needed to thrust his
hips upwards, and made sure to meet Alfred’s movements with every thrust.
Alfred was getting louder now, noises escaping him as he slammed down on
Arthur’s cock. He was so close, pleasure pooling in his belly as he finally
came, his seed spilling over Arthur’s hand and stomach.
Sperm filled Alfred’s body, painting his innards white as Arthur finished
shortly after, gritting his teeth and tipping his head back against the pillow.
“Hah… Not bad, my little lamb,” said the pirate. He smiled up at Alfred and
wiped some of the stray tears from his face with the hand that wasn’t covered
in seed.
Alfred stopped his movements as Arthur came, still seated down on the man’s
cock. He kept his eyes shut as Arthur wiped his tears away, waiting for the
okay to get off of the other.
“Off,” was all Arthur said, grabbing one of the pieces of cloth he’d kept under
his pillow for just such an occasion. “Keep straddling me, though; I don’t want
you dripping all over the rug.”
Alfred nodded, hands on Arthur’s chest as he slowly moved up, the man’s cock
slipping out of his hole. He shuddered as he felt a bit of cum run down his
thighs, glad at least that the other was going to clean him up.
Slowly but surely, Arthur cleaned up the both of them, wiping off all the
bodily fluids covering them both, and scrubbing Alfred’s inner thighs. He
slipped out from underneath Alfred, then swung his legs over the side of the
bed and stood up to get dressed. “I’m afraid that I have to be off now. You’re
free to rest up for now, though I expect you to get to work washing the deck
when I return. Enjoy your break.”
Alfred lied down on the bed, grabbing the blanket and curling himself up in it.
“Thanks,” he muttered, glad to be getting some rest at least. Closing his eyes
he quickly drifted off into sleep, the bed much more comfortable than the rags
he had down in the brig.
Arthur stroked his hair one last time and kissed him on the cheek. He hoped
that at some point Alfred would be capable of having sex without falling asleep
immediately after. Arthur had never gotten the chance, himself. He still
remembered the way Francis would drag him kicking and screaming into a room,
violate him, then toss him back out before he could so much as get his
bearings, fully expecting him to be capable of lifting crates twice his size
with a stabbing pain shooting up his back. As far as he was concerned, Alfred
didn’t know how good he had it.
Alfred couldn't help but flinch as he was kissed, still half awake as the
pirate did that. It felt so disgusting, such a loving gesture after everything
he had done. Once he heard the door open and then shut he sat up and sighed,
rubbing his eyes before plopping back down on the bed, lying on his stomach and
dozing off.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Arthur returned about an hour later.
As usual, he locked the door behind him, his arms still sore from all the
whippings he’d doled out. Breaking in new members of the crew wasn’t quite as
difficult as breaking in a new pet; he didn’t really expect them to be entirely
loyal to him. At best, he would have a couple still alive by the end of the
month, with the rest either having been murdered, or having escaped in port.
Ordinarily he preferred to recruit the willing, but the recent executions had
left him a bit short on manpower.
He placed his calloused hand on Alfred’s shoulder and shook him gently. “Wake
up, love. You’ve got work to do.”
Alfred groaned as he was shaken awake, reaching up to rub his eyes. "Work?" He
asked, vaguely remembering the pirate mentioning something earlier. "Do I have
to wear the dress?" He hoped not, regular clothes would suit him just fine.
“Seeing as you’re only tidying up, and not doing hard labor, yes,” answered
Arthur, sitting down at his desk. “The rain may have rinsed off the main deck,
but the lower ones still need cleaning. I have someone out there who’ll show
you what to do. Get dressed.” In the meantime, he had to look over the charts
and begin formulating their strategy for their attack on the Spanish. The
merchant galleon they’d managed to capture could possibly serve as an adequate
diversion. Alternatively, having a fleet could also potentially draw unwanted
attention. Not just from the law, but from other pirates, thinking they were
genuine merchants protecting something valuable. “Here.” Arthur placed a
folded-up dress on the table; it was about as plain as the old, bloody one, but
the new one came with a bonnet.
Alfred sighed as he stood up, looking down at the dress. It closely resembled
his old one, just a few parts different. "A bonnet?" He asked, sighing as he
picked the thing up. How was he even supposed to put it on? He'd never had to
before. "Wanna help me ah, get dressed?" He asked, keeping his gaze down and
voice low.
“Surely you remember how to do it by now,” taunted Arthur, standing back up to
assist him even so. He started with the corset, wrapping it around Alfred’s
body and lacing it up even tighter than the last time; after all, his wounds,
while still healing, were more or less closed up.
Alfred gasped as he was laced up, wondering just how he was expected to do
anything in such a restricting garment. "Yeah but the corset and bonnet I can't
put on alone," he muttered, taking a few deep breaths.
“Surely you can put on the bonnet on your own,” said Arthur, placing the white,
frilly object over his head and tying up the ribbons under his chin. After
that, he knelt down to help Alfred into his bloomers and shoes; though he
hadn’t tied the corset up to the point where Alfred couldn’t bend over, given
that he did have cleaning to do, a true gentleman was obliged to help a lady in
need.
“I’ve never had to put one on before,” Alfred mumbled, letting the pirate help
him with the rest of his dressing. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to clean
in that corset but he knew complaining wouldn’t help matters.
“Surely your mother wore one. It’s not very complicated, Alfred. You place it
on your head and tie the strings under your chin,” said Arthur, pressing his
fingers to his captive’s forehead as though concerned that he was feverish. He
didn’t want to believe someone could be so incompetent.
“Of course she did but I never had to dress her,” Alfred snapped, crossing his
arms. It wasn’t his fault he had no idea how to put on women’s clothing. He was
a man after all so how would he know?
“What I’m asking is how you couldn’t see how it works. It’s literally just a
hat with strings under the chin,” insisted Arthur, sitting back down at his
desk. He supposed it was for the best that his pet was as dense as could be.
After all, none of his escape plans had been very well thought-out. It was good
to know he didn’t have to expect any elaborate gambits. One of his toys had
actually tried to stage a mutiny. That had been interesting.
Alfred hated how the strings felt against his chin, irritating him a bit. “So
what do you want me to do? Some cleaning?” he asked, not really wanting to go
out on deck in the outfit he was in. It was humiliating and now there were new
crew members.
“I do believe that I told you this already. Go below deck. There should be
someone waiting for you to show you what to do. As much as I’d love to be
present for your training, I have a lot of work to do,” said Arthur. If
possible, he wanted to fit in a few sparring sessions with some of the more
talented members of his crew, too; he couldn’t afford to get rusty. The
merchant ship was hardly a worthy test of his skill.
Alfred nodded, heading out without a word and shutting the door behind him. He
quickly headed down below to where the cannons were kept, trying to avoid too
many people seeing him.
“Aha, there you are!” chimed the voice of a young man, who looked to be in his
early twenties. “At first I was worried I’d forget your face - haven’t really
seen you around deck all that much, after all - but you stick out like a sore
thumb!” He slapped Alfred on the back - his actual back, not his ass - and
laughed heartily. “Ready for work?”
Alfred didn’t particularly like being touched by the other, moving away before
the man could do it again. “Sure, what do I have to do?” he asked, glad at
least the man wasn’t harassing him. Well, for now at least.
“It’s pretty simple,” said the man, grabbing a broom that was leaning on one of
the walls and passing it to Alfred. “For now, you’ll just be sweeping the
floors. Play your cards right, and you might get promoted to cannon
maintenance! But until then, we can’t let you touch any of the fancy
machinery.” He grinned. “Now, I know that the shape of the broom handle might
make it tempting, but try not to get any dirty thoughts in that pretty little
head of yours while we work. Understand?”
“I won’t,” Alfred said, teeth gritted together as he took the broom. Sweeping
didn’t sound too bad, just boring. Although being in the brig all day was
rather boring as well. “Should I clean up this room first?”
“Since we’re here, you might as well,” said the man, winking at him. “My name
is John, by the way. John Thomas. And you are…?” He took Alfred’s hand and
planted a kiss on the back of it, as though he were speaking to an actual
woman.
“I’m Alfred,” Alfred replied, pulling his hand away from the other. He wasn’t
some weak maiden and he hated being treated like one. “Just let me sweep for
now.”
“Feisty, are we? Good, I love that in a woman,” said John, sweeping his brown
bangs out of his face and trying to pose attractively. “If you ever get tired
of the captain, I’d be more than happy to give you some private cleaning
lessons.”
“I am not a woman and I’d rather not have any private lessons,” Alfred snapped,
taking a few steps away from the man. How disgusting, he hated how everyone on
the ship had to harass him.
“Oh, cleaning not your thing, eh?” said the pirate, elbowing him in the arm.
“Well, what about fencing? I can show you my sword, if you know what I mean.”
Some of the other men in the room made catcalls.
It took a second before Alfred got the innuendo, giving the pirate a disgusted
look. “No thank you,” he said, walking over to a corner in the room to begin
sweeping. Maybe if he started working the others would leave him alone.
Another one of the men strolled up to him, to ‘try their luck,’ as it were.
Even though the majority pretty clearly weren’t interested in him sexually, it
was obvious that they still liked yanking his chain. “That broom is hardly a
worthy partner. May I have this dance, madame?”
“Go away,” Alfred muttered, backing himself up into a corner. He just wanted to
do his cleaning without any interruptions. “I’m sure Arthur will be very mad if
you end up doing something to me.”
“Oh, look at him!” cackled another one of the men. “So devoted to his dear old
lover!”
“Rather impressive. That certainly isn’t what his beloved mummy said…”
Johnson had snuck around behind, and reached over to pinch Alfred’s bottom.
“Come on, you know you want it.” He grabbed his hips, and began slowly grinding
his crotch against him.
“Don’t talk about my mom like that!” Alfred shouted, swinging the broom and
hitting one of the men in the face with it before swinging it back around to
try and his the man behind him. “I-I’ll tell him what you’re doing, he won’t be
happy about it.”
The men laughed at the man who’d been struck with the broom; the one behind
Alfred, Johnson, managed to duck and jump back before he was hit.
“Why, you…!” growled the pirate he’d whacked. “Fucking whore!”
“I reckon we should teach our lovely lady-friend how to behave around a bunch
of gentlemen,” said Johnson, twirling his moustache around his finger. “Such an
action is borderline mutiny!”
“Leave me alone!” Alfred shouted, hating how he had managed to back himself
into the corner now. Had Arthur given them permission to do this? “I just wanna
clean and get it over with okay? Leave me alone.”
Johnson had him pressed against the wall, staring into his eyes with a sick
satisfaction. He took both of Alfred’s wrists and licked his lips. “A shame,
really. And we tried so hard to be nice.” One of the other men came in from the
side and began lifting up his dress.
Alfred squirmed in the man’s grip, breathing getting heavy as his dress was
lifted up. “I-I’ll tell Arthur, he’ll be really mad,” He wasn’t sure what else
to say except to threaten them. Although it wouldn’t surprise him if Arthur had
given the men permission to do this.
“Worst case scenario, we get a couple lashes. Just means we don’t have to work
for a week. Isn’t that right, boys?” said Johnson, pulling him back away from
the wall. “Besides, it’s not like we’re actually going to have sex with you.”
He yanked hard while a man came up from behind Alfred and pushed. Together,
they shoved him onto his hands and knees on the ground. Another man promptly
climbed on top of him to hold him down.
Alfred screamed as he was knocked down, trying to get up only to have one of
the men pin him down. “Th-Then what are you gonna do?” he asked, not sure what
else they could do that position except fuck him.
“See if you can figure it out,” said Johnson. One of the men - the man that
Alfred had hit - held up the broom and snickered. It seemed that he wasn’t
about to take the humiliation sitting down. He made lewd gestures with the
handle, moving his hand up and down along it.
Alfred craned his head, seeing the man with the broom. “C-C’mon, you can’t be
serious?” he asked, struggling weakly against the man holding him down. He just
wanted to clean and get it over with, he didn’t understand why everyone had to
harass him.
“If you’d just stood there quietly, we wouldn’t have to do this,” said Johnson,
taking the broom from the other man and walking around behind Alfred. The man
that had been struck followed, and pulled down Alfred’s bloomers, exposing his
bare bottom.
“I can’t just stand there quietly as you all harass me!” Alfred screamed,
struggling again as the bloomers were yanked down, cool air hitting his exposed
skin.
“That’s your problem, not ours,” sneered Johnson, pressing the dry, semi-semi-
splintered broom handle against his hole. “Wait, there’s no way we can get it
in like this. Wyer, the lamp.”
The man that Alfred had struck stood up to grab one of the lamps hanging off of
a hook by one of the cannons. He opened it up and poured some of the hot oil
down on the broom handle.
Tears formed in Alfred’s eyes as he heard the commotion behind him, shutting
his eyes as a few tears slipped out. “Please don’t,” he whimpered, his entire
body still sore. Especially his backside, the brand still stinging in pain.
As if reading his mind, one of the men took that opportunity to slap his
behind, right across the still-healing brand that would forever mark his skin.
The broom handle was pushed up against his hole, then slowly, slowly pushed
inside, its rough edges scraping his inner walls.
Alfred screamed even louder as his wound was slapped, pain running through his
entire body. The broom didn’t help matters, the dry wood scraping against his
insides as it was pushed in.
“This is what happens when you don’t listen to your superiors, brat,” said one
of the men, stomping on Alfred’s back to keep him from getting up. The broom
was pushed further and further in, as deep as it could get before it could go
no further.
The broom was painful, even though it was smaller than a dick it was wooden,
and dry, and it scraped against his insides as it was shoved in. Alfred
couldn’t keep himself from screaming, especially as his back was stomped, his
wounds from being whipped still quite painful.
“Such a lovely sound. Not entirely unlike that poor man you killed,” said
Johnson. He began pulling the broom out, though it was a bit of a struggle.
Even though it had been lubricated with oil, it was far from the best material
to put in one of the more sensitive areas of the body. In fact, it seemed like
a lot of the oil had been soaked up into the wood.
“I-I didn’t kill him!” Alfred screamed, partly in anger at that and partly in
the pain he was in. Part of him just wished they would just use their own
cocks, at least it would be more slick that way. “A-Arthur killed him, not me!”
“You ran away, knowing someone would get in trouble for it,” said Johnson,
pushing the broom back in. “You stabbed him with a knife. Most people would
hesitate their first time killing someone, but you’re just a full-blown monster
already. Just like your master.” The broom was pulled back out, then back in
again, and twisted around.
Alfred kept screaming, body trembling as the broom handle was pushed in and
out. “I-I did it so he wouldn’t suffer as much,” he sobbed, not wanting to
believe he was a monster. He was nothing like Arthur.
“Immediately. Without stopping for even a moment to think about alternatives,”
said the pirate, continuing to twist the broom around without actually
thrusting it. “Any other person would have tried looking for a way to save him,
even if it was pointless and impossible. You were too afraid of the
consequences to even try. You’re as selfish and monstrous as we are.”
It couldn’t be true, could it? “N-No I’m different,” he sobbed, the broom
giving him almost no pleasure as it was twisted around inside of him. “H-He
asked me to kill him quickly,” it was better than being skinned alive at least.
“He was about to die. He didn’t have any hope left. Of course he asked you to
kill him quickly. You, a strong young lad - or lass, really - had a weapon, and
failed to see any other option. Couldn’t even be bothered to go for the route
of holding it over your wrist and threatening to kill yourself. One of the
others did that. Different reasons, though.” After all, none of the others had
been asked to kill anyone.
Alfred hadn’t even thought of that idea, although it seemed pointless. Arthur
probably would have just let him kill himself if he had tried. “J-Just be
quiet,” he whimpered, tired of listening to the men taunt him about this.
“That attitude is what got you into this mess in the first place,” said one of
the other men. The broom was shoved back into him at full force, pushed as far
as they could possibly get it without doing actual, permanent damage.
Alfred’s eyes shot wide open as the broom was shoved in way too far, more
screams escaping his throat. He just wanted to do his cleaning in peace without
being harassed.
“What’s wrong? I thought you liked having things up here. The way I hear it,
you like it so much that you got pregnant!” said Johnson mockingly. The word of
Arthur’s cruel trick had spread fast, and nobody was about to let it die. Not
if it looked like the poor captive might honestly believe it. “Shameful.”
Again with the pregnancy thing. Alfred was so unsure of what to believe it was
driving him insane. “I-I hate it!” he shouted, sobbing into his arms as he was
sodomized by the broom handle.
“Then how else did you get like this?” asked another one of the men, jabbing
him in the side. “Your belly is already starting to swell! How will you be able
to please your owner when you’re busy taking care of some brat?”
Was his belly getting bigger? He didn't think so but now that someone had said
it Alfred was getting paranoid. At least he wasn't hard now, lord knows what
these men would say if he was.
“He can’t even answer,” cackled one of the pirates that hadn’t spoken on a
while. “I wonder, if we stick it in far enough, will it kill the baby?”
Johnson began laughing so hard that he was in tears. “It’s not like he would
mind. He doesn’t value human life. It’d be a boon to him.”
As much as Alfred did not want to be pregnant he certainly didn't like the idea
of killing a baby, that is if he was even pregnant. "D-don't...please," he
whimpered, trembling in pain and humiliation.
“It seems we were mistaken. Apparently, his lack of value in human life doesn’t
extend to his owner’s offspring,” said Johnson, shoving the broom against
Alfred’s innards, and wiggling it around. “Already such a devoted little toy.”
Alfred sobbed into his arms, trembling as the broom was dragged along his
insides. It was less painful now at least, his body getting used to it. Of
course that meant now his cock was starting to get a bit hard, feeling the
broom handle brush against his prostate.
“Would you look at that?” said one of the pirates, laughing whole-heartedly
when he spotted the activity between Alfred’s legs. “Look at how much he likes
it!”
“None of the captain’s other pets were broken this easily,” taunted one of the
men, though it was a lie. Alfred had actually held up far better than most of
the others, almost to an astounding degree. Most of them had given up on
defiance by that point. Whether or not continuing to fight back was the
intelligent thing to do was another matter entirely, but it was impressive all
the same.
"I-I don't enjoy it!" Alfred screamed , trying to push his legs closer together
to hide the evidence no matter how useless it was. The pirates had already seen
that he was hard anyways. He wasn't even sure how he could be so aroused, the
broom handle rather painful as it was thrusted.
“Liar,” said Johnson, jamming the broom roughly in and out of his prone form.
“Such a masochist! I wonder what you did to deserve this fate.” He chuckled and
let one of the other men have a turn with the broom, opting to stomp on their
poor captive’s back. Arthur wasn’t going to be very happy that they touched his
pet without permission, that was for sure. Still, if he executed everyone that
pissed him off, he wouldn’t have a crew left. The worst they would get would be
a few lashes with the whip.
Alfred grunted as he was stomped on, tears falling to the hardwood floor
beneath him. Even though he was aroused he doubted that he would come from just
the broom alone. It was smaller than a cock but at the same time it felt more
painful since the wood on the handle was a lot more dry than flesh.
“Answer me!” roared Johnson, pressing his boot down even further, the high heel
digging into his back; nothing quite as masculine as high heels, after all. “Or
do you want me to tell Arthur that you weren’t compliant?”
“I don’t know!” Alfred screamed, hoping that the man’s boot wasn’t reopening
his wounds. They were starting to heal too he’d hate to have them open up
again.
“Tch…” Without another word, Johnson removed his boot, and grabbed the broom
handle back from one of the others. He spared no sympathy for Alfred as he
yanked it out and tossed it to the side. “Flip him onto his back, and hold his
legs apart.”
The others did as they were told and forced him onto his back, despite his
half-healed wounds.
“Wh-What now?” Alfred asked, yelling out as he was thrown down, pain throbbing
in his back. Weren’t they done yet? What more did they have to do to humiliate
him? He couldn’t help but wonder if he should tell Arthur about this later,
hoping that it would get the men in trouble at least.
“Touch yourself,” commanded Johnson, crossing his arms over his chest and
grinning. He loomed over Alfred with a terrible leer, his eyes reflecting his
complete disdain for the life in front of him. It wasn’t about sexual
excitement. It was about the thrill of seeing someone else so helpless.
Alfred weakly tried to break his legs free, feeling too weak to do much but
pathetically struggle. “Wh-What?” he asked, unable to believe what he had just
heard. He had barely ever done such things in his life, not even doing it once
since Arthur had told him too. “No, please..”
“It’s not like you’d be spilling it on the ground,” encouraged Johnson, licking
his lips and rubbing his boot against Alfred’s exposed genitalia. “Just
yourself. And the deck.” The two holding his legs reached up under his dress to
pinch and twist his nipples.
Alfred knew it was best to get it over with, reaching down with his shaky hand
and wrapping his fingers around his cock. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to
pretend no one else was around as he slowly started to stroke himself.
“Faster!” barked the pirate, pressing the front of his boot against Alfred’s
swollen sack. “This should be easy for you. All you have to do is pretend
you’re with your beloved master, isn’t that right?”
Alfred kept his eyes screwed shut, moving his hand faster as he was told. The
sooner he finished the sooner they would leave him alone he hoped. He just
wanted to get back to doing his work.
“Pathetic,” laughed Johnson. “You’re a mess. You’re ugly, needy, and completely
incompetent. The world would be better off without you. Why don’t you just kill
yourself, already?” He pressed his boot against Alfred’s chest, though not so
hard as to actually hurt him. Yet.
Alfred grunted in pain, holding himself up with one hand as he stroked his cock
with the other. The man’s words were really starting to get to him, tears
continuing to flow down his cheeks. “Sh-Shut up dammit.”
“You dare say such words to your superiors?” said Johnson, pressing the high
heel of his boot against Alfred’s exposed sack. “A pathetic, murderous whore?
You ought to be thankful that you can’t return to your village. What would your
mother say if she saw you now?”
The pain against his sac wasn’t helping much as Alfred continued to stroke his
cock, trying not to let it go flaccid. “D-Don’t bring my mother into this,” he
sobbed, not wanting to think about her as he did things with his body.
“Your father, then?” laughed Johnson, finally removing his boot. “Or maybe the
local pastor? I wonder what sort of a penance would be assigned to someone as
wretched as you!” He picked up the splintered broom that they’d so recently
used to sodomize Alfred, and held it inches from the captive colonist’s face.
“Or maybe you’d just be stoned to death. Hanged, if they’re feeling merciful.”
Alfred turned his head, disgusted by having the broom so close to him. He knew
there was no going back so why did the pirate have to torture him so? He kept
stroking his cock, speeding up his movements in hope that he would finish soon.
“Don’t turn away when I show you something, you little shit!” snapped Johnson,
pressing it against his cheek. “Go on! Give it a lick! Don’t you want to taste
your own shame?”
Turning his head back Alfred did as he was told, tongue darting out to lick at
the oily wood poking his face. It tasted terrible, the boy quickly pulling his
head back as he continued to run his hand along his cock.
The other men all laughed in unison, pulling at his nipples and occasionally
moving their hands back downward to finger his greatly-abused hole. Johnson
tossed the broom back off to the side, seeming satisfied by the display of
submission.
“Well? Did it taste good? If not, I might have to have you try it again.”
“Y-Yes..” Alfred whimpered, the abuse to his body sending him over the edge as
he came, his cum splattering against his own stomach and chest.
The men rather unceremoniously hoisted him into the air, one holding onto each
of his four limbs, and worked together to toss him against the wall, where they
threw the broom down at his side. “Are you going to go cry to your owner now?”
taunted Johnson. “What a dismal excuse for a human being. Come on, boys. Let’s
leave the poor wretch to his chores.”
Alfred screamed as he was thrown, head banging against the wall as he landed
against it, falling down the floor. He couldn’t form a coherent response,
instead beginning to sob. He covered his face with his hands, shoulders
trembling. Was it worth telling Arthur about this? On one hand it was rather
pathetic but on the other hand he really wanted to see those men get hurt.
The bloomers they’d removed were also tossed in his direction, landing in a
puddle on the floor. Laughing, the pirates began strolling away, casually
chatting about how much fun they’d had and whether they would take their break
then or a little later. Alfred was left almost completely alone, under the dim
light of the lanterns hanging off of the hooks in the wall.
Alfred reached for his bloomers, sliding them back on for modesty before
curling up and sobbing again. He knew he’d get in trouble if he didn’t clean
but he couldn’t get himself to get up and do it. He felt so sore, glad to see
that the men were leaving.
He didn’t have to wait for too long for footsteps to begin echoing down the
steep steps leading to the upper deck. Even before the figure came into view,
voices were giving away just who it was.
“O-oh! Captain Kirkland! What are you doing down here?”
“I’m captain. It’s my job.”
“B-but at this hour?”
“I thought I’d check up on that little lamb of mine. So, Johnson, you were in
charge of supervising him. How did he do?”
“Absolutely terrible! He was defiant at every turn! I didn’t have any choice
but to take action! U-um…”
The voice of the captain grew terse. “Tell me you didn’t kill him.”
“No, sir! He’s still alive! We just punished him, is all!”
The sound of footsteps against wood began echoing throughout the room once
again as Arthur emerged from under the arch in search of Alfred. His eyes
locked onto the boy immediately, looking him over as though evaluating the
damage done to an object. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me what happened,
darling?” he asked dryly.
Arthur looked up as he heard Arthur’s voice, wiping a few tears from his eyes.
“Th-They sodomized me with the broom,” he whimpered, the object still lying
next to his body. “I didn’t do anything wrong, I had just been cleaning when
they decided to do it.”
“Of course he’s going to say that!” snapped Johnson. “He-”
“-is too injured from his lashing to have required this level of discipline,
regardless of whether or not he did anything wrong,” finished Arthur for him,
his green eyes hardened as stones. “You’re a good shot with a gun, Johnson, but
a terrible liar. I suggest you get back to work while I decide on what measures
to take from here on out. That is, if you’d like you keep your testicles.”
All of the men in the group turned pale and hurried off to get back to work
while Arthur knelt down by Alfred’s side to take a closer look at the damage.
As pathetic as it was to cry to Arthur over this Alfred felt a bit of
satisfaction at seeing the men so scared. At least he had Arthur’s protection.
With it the pirates on the ship would have to be careful about what they did to
him.
Arthur pulled Alfred up into his lap and stroked his head gently. “Idiots.
They’re lucky you didn’t end up with a concussion.” There was really no
treating such things, except with rest and hoping that it healed. He’d lost
many a man to nasty head injuries. It almost seemed like letting them sleep
after the fact only made it worse. “Where do you feel pain?”
“My head and...my backside,” Alfred whimpered, the gentle touches oddly
comforting as the pirate stroked his hair. It was almost loving, almost. He
still hated the pirate but comfort was what he indeed needed after what just
happened.
The pirate captain nodded slowly, and leaned over to look straight into
Alfred’s eyes. “I’m going to ask you one more time, just to make sure. Did you
or did you not do something to deserve punishment? Don’t lie to me. I’ll find
out, one way or another.”
Alfred shook his head. “No, I was just cleaning and they decided to do this,”
Alfred sobbed, hoping the pirate would believe him. It was true after all, he
hadn’t done anything wrong!
“Easy, now. I believe you,” said Arthur, petting his head. “I promise you,
they’ll regret what they’ve done. I’ll be sure to make an example out of them
to the others. You don’t need to worry about this happening again.” He’d chosen
Johnson specifically because he knew he was a disloyal bastard, and an all-
around average sailor. Better to make an example out of someone he really
didn’t need than someone more valuable. He hadn’t realized he’d go that far
overboard, though. “Do you want them punished in any particular way? In
addition to what I intend to do to them, of course.”
Alfred couldn’t help but think about the request. He was shocked that he was
even considering an answer for the pirate but he absolutely hated those men.
“M-Maybe...do to them what they did to me,” he said in a quiet voice, glancing
at the broom sitting next to him.
Arthur grinned and chuckled. “My, my, you’ve grown into quite the sadist in
your brief time with us here.” He pulled Alfred up into his arms and kissed him
on the cheek. “Very well. I’ll grant your request just prior to their
lashings.” He had wanted to simply cut them up, but really, Alfred’s idea was
far better. Physical wounds would heal quickly. Humiliation, though? That would
stick. “You’re quite strong-willed, putting up with all of this without trying
to kill yourself. As well you should be; shame is for the weak. You and I are
above such things.” He had to admit, he liked Alfred’s attitude. It was true
that he was still distressed about what had happened, but he wasn’t just
reacting with misery. He was reacting with wrath, and a desire for vengeance.
He’d never before considered turning his pets into killers, but Alfred showed
so much potential. It almost reminded him of himself, when he was younger. How
quickly he’d begun to lust for blood.
Alfred didn't like being called a sadist, he didn't want to think of himself
like Arthur. "I just want them to know what it's like," he said sofly, leaning
against the pirate's chest. He didn't mind so much when Arthur was like this.
When he was calm and comforting.
“So you’re incapable of turning the other cheek, then. That’s fine. ‘tis a
silly notion to begin with,” said Arthur, unable to help but smile at Alfred’s
reluctance to admit to just how twisted his request was. Years of tradition and
beliefs didn’t vanish quite so easily, no matter how far one strayed from them.
“Do you think you can stand?”
"Yeah," Alfred muttered, getting up to his feet. He'd suffered worse than a
broom in his ass after all. Really when compared to everything else it wasn't
that bad. "And I would turn the other cheek but, I don't want them doing this
again."
“Of course, love,” said Arthur, in a tone that indicated that he wasn’t buying
it. He took Alfred by the hand and began guiding him back to the stairs, making
sure to stay slow in case he was suffering any pain. If they’d punctured
anything, it had the potential to prove fatal. “We shall commence disciplinary
measures immediately. Come along.”
Even though Alfred wanted the men punished he really didn't want to watch it.
"D-do I have to watch?" He asked, following the pirate up. He felt bad enough
without having to watch someone be hurt because he chose it.
“You don’t expect me to simply exact vengeance on your behalf while you hide
away and pretend you’re not involved, do you?” asked Arthur. He pushed open the
hatch, and squinted as the sun beat down upon them both, forcing his eyes to
adjust.
Alfred squinted as well, blinking a few times to let his eyes adjust. "B-But I
don't want to watch," he whimpered, shivering a bit despite the warm air around
them.
“Oh, silly me. I should know better than to have you watch,” said Arthur,
licking his lips. It was obvious that Alfred hadn’t learned from the first time
he’d said such things…
For some reason Alfred didn't like the tone of the pirate's voice, knowing he
was thinking of something even worse. "Then what?"
“I’ll have you participate, of course. You can hold the broom,” he said,
helping Alfred up to the deck and closing the hatch behind them. The poor thing
really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. He only ever seemed to succeed
in making things worse for himself. Well, it wasn’t as though he were actually,
physically suffering. It wasn’t sporting to take revenge for someone unwilling
to take it for themselves. “Don’t worry; I know you’re still somewhat crippled
by that lashing. They’ll be tied down for you.”
While Alfred indeed wanted those men to be hurt he did not want to be the one
doing it. "Wait, wait I can't do it. Y-You're the leader of this ship you do
it," he said, turning to look at the man. He was starting to regret his
suggestion, his stomach feeling sick.
Arthur ruffled his hair, as though he were a young child. “It’s not right to
have someone else constantly taking revenge for you. You’re a pirate now. If
you want any semblance of respect, you have to inspire fear.” He didn’t know
why he wanted to push Alfred to become more aggressive. It was one of the most
counter-intuitive things he could possibly do. Still, all of his previous
attempts to ‘tame’ human beings had ended as dismal failures, for one reason or
another. He wasn’t as weak as that bastard frog; he could control someone he
shaped into a weapon. He could render Alfred docile to him alone, like a loyal
hunting dog. “Tell me, why is it that you don’t want to do it?”
“I’d feel bad I guess,” Alfred mumbled, chewing on his lower lip. He had always
been taught not to harm others and while yes, he was wishing harm upon those
men he would feel even worse if he did it himself. Arthur was the one who
enjoyed hurting others, not him.
Taking care to make sure they were out of earshot of the others, Arthur, who
couldn’t exactly hang menacingly over someone who was taller than him, simply
looked menacingly up at his beloved captive. “So, what? It makes you feel
better to know that someone else is committing the act that you yourself
requested? Does it somehow make you feel less guilty if you’re only sinning by
proxy?”
“Y-Yeah…” Alfred admitted, gazing off to the side to avoid looking at the
pirate. It was true, he wouldn’t lie about it. He felt less guilty if someone
carried out the sin he wanted to commit.
“Is that so?” mused Arthur. Without hesitation, he grabbed Alfred by the shirt
collar, yanked him downwards, and boxed his ears. Though he knew it wouldn’t be
heard after what he’d done, he still spoke. “I hate people that seek to avoid
responsibility for their actions, you know.”
Alfred hadn’t been expecting such violence, screaming out as he was temporarily
deafened. His head ached now, ears ringing painfully. Arthur had been so nice
today up until this he was rather shocked. “S-Sorry,” he muttered out, unable
to even hear himself.
Arthur exhaled, and gave Alfred a moment to recover. He waited until he was
certain he’d be heard to speak again. “I’ll have no dodging responsibility on
my ship. If you make a decision, or want something done, you have to own up to
it. Understand? Pretending you’re innocent because someone else does your dirty
work for you is something beneath even the lowest of the low.” It was certainly
against a gentleman’s code of conduct. He turned around and began walking
towards the men who’d committed the act against his pet. “Come. I won’t face
them for you on my own.”
A few tears ran down Alfred’s cheeks, nodding as he heard the pirate. His ears
still rang painfully as he stood up, slowly following the pirate. He was not
only feeling guilty but scared. Scared that these men would hurt him for doing
this.
“Stop crying. It’s unbecoming,” said Arthur, glancing back for just a moment to
make sure that Alfred was following him. One would think he was asking him to
engage in a duel to the death. At least, that was the way Arthur saw it. “You
lot! Johnson! Smith! Turner! Black! Front and center!”
Reluctantly, the men stopped what they were doing to turn around and face him.
Johnson, the ringleader of the group, was the first to answer. “Yes, sir?” he
asked, though they both knew exactly what the matter at hand was.
Alfred kept quiet, standing next to Arthur as he watched the men line up. He
felt a bit of satisfaction however, eager to see the looks on the men’s faces
when they were told their punishment.
“I’ve decided on your punishment,” said Arthur, deciding to be nice and take
credit for all ideas, even if he had Alfred himself carry it out. “Twenty
lashes each for the assault of a crew member.”
They certainly didn’t look thrilled about it, but there was still a look of
relief on their faces that it wasn’t even worse than that. At least, until
Arthur opened his mouth once more, to add the rest.
“Prior to that, however, we must discuss your retribution. You’re being
penalized, that’s true, but I want you to make amends. An eye for an eye. You
will suffer as you made him suffer.”
There was a look of dawning horror on their faces as they realized just what it
was he was saying. “Y-you’re joking, right?” said one of them, trying to smile
and laugh it off. “Th-that’s not really it, right?”
“I assure you, I don’t joke.” Not about crew discipline. “As it is, you should
be thankful I’m not cutting your testicles off.” Some of the other men within
earshot were already whispering and snickering at the plight of the four in
front of Arthur, though a few had the decency to at least appear concerned.
Pirates or not, people tended to look out for their comrades.
Alfred hated to admit how good it felt to see the men's expressions. They
deserved it after all. They had no reason to attack him they just did it out of
their own sadistic pleasure. Hopefully after this they would leave him alone
and the other pirates would learn as well.
“B-but…”
“I suggest you line up at the mast, if you don’t want your face to meet the
butt of my gun,” snapped Arthur, his tone of voice lowering to a dangerous
level. “Or would you rather trade places with my little lover permanently?
You’re not the most aesthetically appealing lot, but I assure you that I can
make do.”
“No, sir!” they all said quickly in unison, marching off to the mast like
scolded children to the corner. Arthur couldn’t help but revel in his power
over their lives. Best to nip their disobedience in the bud before everyone
started to get the idea that they could just abuse his pet whenever they felt
like it. It was impossible to train a dog if other people constantly kicked it.
A rush of pleasure washed over Alfred as he saw these men who had been acting
so smug earlier now cower in fear. They deserved it he kept telling himself,
starting to almost feel excited about their punishment.
“You’re looking awfully chipper,” said Arthur, turning to look at Alfred only
to be a bit surprised by the look on his face. To think he’d been crying in
fear just moments ago. Still, it was a behavior he decided he wanted to
encourage, so long as it was directed at people other than Arthur himself, so
he decided not to taunt him about it. “I’ll tie them up if you fetch the
broom.”
Alfred knew there was no use arguing, silently nodding before heading back down
and picking up the old broom. His arms were shaking a bit, unable to believe he
was about to do this. He felt terrible about how good he felt about it, trying
to convince himself he was nothing like Arthur as he headed back up.
By the time Alfred returned, a small semi-circle of men had gathered around the
scene, where Johnson had been tied up over a crate. He was looking quite
displeased by the situation, his face scarlet with humiliation and rage. The
other three looked on, blue in the face, while everyone else not busy doing
something or other on board the ship seemed eager to watch the show. It didn’t
seem to matter who was on the receiving end of the punishments Arthur doled
out, so long as it wasn’t them. They would watch with unadulterated glee
regardless, especially if it was non-lethal, or otherwise just someone they
didn’t like.
Alfred felt a bit of sick pleasure as he saw the man's face, wondering if that
was how he had looked. He wanted to say something, to laugh at the man, but he
kept quiet. He wasn't Arthur he kept telling himself. These men had done
something bad, he wasn't needlessly torturing anyone.
“Have at it, then,” said Arthur, shocking not just the men in the semicircle,
but those awaiting discipline.
“Him?” Johnson practically shrieked, as though Arthur were suggesting something
completely incomprehensible.
Arthur was many things, but he wasn’t a liar. Okay, well, he was. The pregnancy
thing was a pretty big one. But, well, the POINT was that he felt like telling
the truth right then. “He’s cute like this.”
He knew from the look in Johnson’s eyes that the man wanted to strangle and
insult him. They both knew that they were wishes that would forever go
unfulfilled.
Alfred nodded, holding the broom up. He felt so unsure. What if he really hurt
the other? What if the man would decide on revenge later? It had to be done
though, after all his ears were still ringing from earlier. Taking a deep
breath he nudged the broom handle against the other's ass, having to give a few
light pushes before he was able to penetrate the other.
Predictably enough, Johnson’s first course of action was to let out a yelp.
Fearing that this was perhaps the least dignified strategy with which to deal
with the problem, he bit down on his lip and hissed with pain and discomfort
until blood dripped down his chin. A few of the men clapped and whistled,
cheering Alfred on. Arthur merely rolled his eyes. He led a bunch of
barbarians. Sure, it probably figured, given that, well, pirates, but still. It
probably didn’t help that so many of them were sex offenders, themselves. There
was no way to be entirely certain, but he was pretty damn sure that Smith was
also into little kids, from the way the others spoke about him when he wasn’t
around.
Alfred felt so nervous, biting his lower lip as well as he began to thrust the
broom. It wasn't easy, Alfred having to force it in and out. "How long do I do
this?" He asked, glancing over to Arthur.
“As long as you want,” answered Arthur, much to Johnson’s complete and utter
horror. “I wouldn’t wait too long, though. You’ve still got three more, and I’d
like to whip them before the day is through.” It seemed like such a casual
conversation, given the incredibly unusual situation.
Alfred had no idea how long he should keep it up, rather nervous about the
entire ordeal. He waited a bit however, thrusting the broom in and out before
he finally stopped and pulled it out. "I-I think I'm done.”
Johnson breathed a sigh of relief and finally opened his mouth. There were
deep, bloody grooves in his lower lip where his teeth had been embedded since
they began a few minutes prior, prompting the others to laugh even harder at
his situation.
“Having a bloody good time, eh, Johny?” snickered one.
Johnson could only manage to fire off a few obscenities in their direction
before some of the men helped drag him off the crate, prompting him to
immediately collapse under his own weight as pain shot up his back from the
abuse.
Alfred kept quiet, wanting so badly to taunt the man. To let him know that was
the pain he had felt. He knew the other men needed their punishments still
though, again getting nervous. "N-Now the others?" He asked, turning to look at
Arthur.
“Naturally,” confirmed Arthur. The men before him shuddered. “Shephard!”
A massive man with bulging muscles and scars covering his body stepped forward
to grab the next man in line to pin down and tie up with their trousers dropped
to their ankles. It was truly a sight to behold, in Arthur’s opinion. Sometimes
he forgot how good it felt to be captain. Sure, some people didn’t like the way
he ran things, but most of them didn’t seem to mind so long as they got paid
their dues.
Alfred didn’t hesitate as much this time, shoving the broom inside of the other
and thrusting it. He really just wanted this all to end. At least then he
wouldn’t feel so bad. It wasn’t long before he was done with this man, pulling
the broom out and turning to look at Arthur.
Twice more, Arthur goaded him on, watching approvingly while the other men that
hadn’t been stupid enough to touch his belongings looked on with a mixture of
pity and amusement. By the end of it, all four of the perpetrators could no
longer walk, and were on their hands and knees grimacing with pain nearby. It
was hardly over for them; he still owed them each a lashing, for good measure.
Still, he knew it would serve as a more than adequate deterrent from future
insubordination.
“Let it be known that the next man who needlessly damages my property shall
suffer a fate worse than theirs,” warned Arthur as the final man struggled to
put his clothes back on. “His status as my consort does not give you free reign
to do with him as you please. Is that understood?”
 
“Yes, sir!” said the men in unison.
“Good. Now, back to work with you! The whip can wait until we’ve made port.”
Alfred sighed in relief as they were finished, dropping the broom to the floor.
He was thankful to hear that from Arthur, that the pirates couldn’t just touch
him as they pleased. “Now what?” he asked, crossing his arms as he looked down.
He felt terrible, like he was cruel just like the pirate. But no, he couldn’t
be. After all those men had deserved it whereas Arthur hurt others for pure
pleasure.
“Now,” said Arthur, linking his arm with Alfred’s as the others turned to get
back to work and chat about what had just happened, “I’d like to inspect your
injuries back in my quarters.” He turned his head back to Johnson and his
little posse, all of whom were still on the ground. “You! I expect you to be
working when I’m done. Is that understood?”
“Yes, captain,” muttered Johnson.
“Louder.”
“Yes, captain!” he growled, glaring daggers at him. Such a baby.
Alfred clung to Arthur as he saw the man’s glare, shivering a bit at it. At
least the other wouldn’t attack him, that is if he valued his life. “What do
you want me to do now?” Alfred asked, assuming Arthur would want him getting
back to work.
“I just told you. I want to make sure you’re fit to be working before I send
you back down there,” said Arthur, sliding his hand along Alfred’s waist. “I
can’t just have you go back to work if you’re injured.” He licked his lips, and
his hand ended up moving to grab his prisoner’s firm bottom. “Besides, after
what happened, I have to reassert myself over what’s rightfully mine.”
Alfred whimpered at the touch. He should have known Arthur was going to say
something like that. “A-Alright..” he muttered, not bothering to argue with the
pirate.
“So well-behaved,” said Arthur, pulling him downwards for a kiss on the
forehead. He definitely wasn’t the least bit peeved that his toy was taller
than he was. Not in the least. For certain. More to the point, he wanted to
give Alfred a little reward for his progress in obedience. Just a bit of
incentive to keep him on the right track. “If you do well, I see no reason we
can’t just assign Johnson your chores and do a little target practice. Would
you like that?”
Alfred nodded, liking the idea of not having to work. Plus shooting the guns
was rather fun if only to see how good he was at it. “Are we gonna head to your
room now?” he asked in a quiet voice, just wanting it to be done and over with.
“Captain’s quarters, Alfred. Terminology is everything on a ship,” said Arthur,
though he released Alfred, knowing he couldn’t very well fuck him right in the
open. Well, technically he could, but he didn’t want to let his guard down like
that. Especially not in the presence of people he’d just disciplined. “Come.”
Alfred followed the pirate into the man’s bedroom, hands fisted in the fabric
of his dress. He had just been sodomized and here was about to be again. He
really wasn’t looking forward to it.
“If we have the time, and nothing goes awry, I’d like to teach you how to load
a bullet into the chamber. Then we can work more on your posture and aim,” said
Arthur quite casually, locking the door behind them and pulling off his shirt
to expose his muscular frame. He wasn’t particularly bulky, at least compared
to some of the men on the ship, but combat wasn’t about who could out-muscle
the other. An unskilled brute didn’t stand a chance against someone who could
think quickly and had the agility to outmaneuver them, as well as the
creativity to get out of sticky situations.
Alfred nodded, not yet taking off his clothes. He still hated being nude even
if he'd already been seen by just about everyone onboard. He did have to wonder
though if one day he'd look like Arthur, a bit muscular and a lot of scars.
“It’s good that you’re modest, but you don’t need to be so shy around me,”
teased Arthur. He supposed it was best that he could be comfortable in knowing
that Alfred wouldn’t let anyone else touch him. Not if he wanted to keep his
cock, anyway. He slipped down his trousers and kicked off the high-heels he’d
been wearing off to the side. With those out of the way, he could peel the
white stockings off of his legs.
Alfred took that as his cue to undress, dropping the bonnet around his head
before lifting up the dress and throing it off, leaving him in the corset and
bloomers. He waited to remove them though, silently watching as the pirate
undressed himself.
Arthur decided that, regardless of the actual intentions, he was going to take
Alfred’s stares as admiration, rather than a mere tactic to delay the
inevitable. “I’m flattered by your adoration, but I’d very much like to see my
lovely wife.” He took care not to let Alfred see him from behind, where a large
burn scar was still left from his days with Francis. He’d since had it rendered
unrecognizable, but he didn’t want his pet putting two and two together.
"R-right.." Alfred muttered, slipping his bloomers off. He would need help with
the corset though, unable to take it off on his own. Luckily Arthur was kind
enough to not make it too tight, thankful at least for that small bit of
kindness.
“Such a lovely body,” said Arthur, stepping around behind Alfred to untie the
lace holding his corset in place. “A shame you always try to hide it from me.”
He’d gone both ways in the past, and had fucked the manliest of women and the
girliest of men. Alfred was neither of those things; he wasn’t quite yet built
to his full potential, but he still had the muscles of a young man who’d lived
their whole life tending to crops and animals. Labor muscles, that was. To
Arthur, it was almost a cry of shame for a body obviously built for combat to
be put to such a use. Then again, he supposed his own uses of said body were
hardly much better. Still, at least he recognized it enough to want to train
his toy, something he’d never done before.
Alfred blushed a bit at the compliment, taking a deep breath as the corset was
removed. It felt so much better without it on, easier to move and breath.
Arthur's compliments felt so strange, the pirate wasn't normally this nice
after all.
Arthur pushed Alfred gently down against the bed, and pressed his cheek against
his soft hair. “You’re so beautiful, you know?” He wouldn’t have picked him if
he were ugly. “I can’t help but want you all to myself.”
Alfred fell down to the bed, head against the soft pillows. "I-I'm not that
beautiful," he said, frowning a bit. He was average looking he figured, not
ugly but certainly not the best.
He wasn’t about to stop when he had Alfred right where he wanted him. “You’re
simply breathtaking. The mere thought of having you beneath me is almost
overwhelming.” Arthur nipped Alfred’s ear and nuzzled his neck. Finally,
finally he was making some progress. It was just a matter of encouragement. He
had to make Alfred associate obedience and submission to him with compassion.
Once he broke down that first barrier, it was just a matter of time before he
had him dancing in the palm of his hand. “Were you born with the proper
genitalia, you would surely have had dozens of suitors.” That was probably a
lie. Alfred’s face and body were too masculine for a mere genital switch to
have heterosexual men after him. Still, he found it difficult to believe that
women hadn’t been interested in him. Not that they would have been allowed to
display such emotions, being women, and all.
Alfred whimpered, biting his lower lip as Arthur teased him. He didn't feel he
was born with the wrong genitals, after all he quite liked being a man. But his
body also enjoyed such things so maybe the pirate was right? He had no idea, so
confused by everything that kept happening.
No response? Perhaps it was time for a little dirty talk to get him really hot
and bothered. Oh, he wouldn’t call him a dirty slut, or anything. Not right
then, anyway. Arthur opted for a strategy of remaining positive, while
simultaneously asserting himself as being the one in charge. “I’m going to fuck
you,” he breathed, right into Alfred’s ear. “I’m going to fill you up and make
that gorgeous body of yours writhe and beg for more.”
Alfred shivered at that, warm breath tickling his ear. It sounded so vulgar, so
wrong and yet he could feel himself getting warmer. He kept telling himself
he'd hate it, that he wouldn't get hard but he knew it was pointless. His body
had betrayed him several times already.
“Do you think I would spend so much time training you if I didn’t care?”
continued Arthur, settling in between Alfred’s legs and speaking through
kisses. “I could just let you languish in a cell until I have need of you, but
I don’t. Do you know why that is?”
“N-No…” Alfred whimpered, heat pooling in his belly at the kisses. Arthur’s
touches were so gentle, so caring, it was making him aroused.
“Because I simply adore you,” he answered quite bluntly. It wasn’t like him to
be so forward with his feelings, whether or not they were real or pretend, but
he didn’t want to risk it going over Alfred’s head. He was a bit on the slow
side, mentally. “I’ve had several captives, but you’re different from the
others. You’re special.” He rubbed his hard length against Alfred’s and sucked
on his neck.
Alfred gasped, eyes shut tightly as the pirate rubbed his cock against him. His
cock was hard now, leaking a bit of precum. He didn’t understand how he was
special, after all he kept messing up and getting punished.
Arthur wrapped one arm around the back of Alfred’s head and pressed their lips
together, sliding his tongue over Alfred’s without actually pushing it inside.
He had positive reinforcement to do, after all. “Strong and full of potential,
with a hardy constitution. You remind me of myself when I was your age,
truthfully.” Minus the intelligence, of course.
“I-I’m not like you,” Alfred whimpered through the kiss, not opening his mouth
for the other. He hated the kissing, it was way too intimate. Oddly enough he
preferred the more rough sex, at least then it didn’t feel so loving.
“I think you’ll find that we’re more similar than you realize,” said Arthur,
sliding his body against Alfred’s. “You were the one who wanted to sodomize
those men with a broom. I didn’t put the idea in your head. You could have just
let me whip them and be done with it, but you didn’t. You wanted revenge.” He
pushed the tip of his cock against Alfred’s hole, sliding it up and down
without actually entering just yet. “I don’t fault you for that. After all, I
started out just like you. Reluctant, and full of moral dilemmas. I even spent
all night crying the day I made my first kill.”
“I-I wanted revenge, n-not to torture just for fun,” Alfred muttered, legs
spread as Arthur’s cock rubbed against his entrance. He was not like Arthur. He
didn’t torture and kill for fun like the pirate did.
“I don’t torture people for fun, Alfred. I do it out of necessity, as a form of
discipline. Do not confuse my ruthlessness for blind bloodlust,” said Arthur,
finally beginning to push in the head. As usual, Alfred felt simply lovely,
though it was clear the broom had loosened him up a bit. Damnable fools. “Face
it, Alfred, you’re already like me. You did it to punish them, to make sure
they never did that to you again. That’s exactly what I do all the time. I
punish you, and the others, to make sure that you don’t do what you did
anymore. The only difference is that I’m doing it on a larger scale, and
without as many emotional hang-ups.”
Alfred couldn’t help but scream as he was dryly penetrated. It was more painful
than the broom, Arthur’s cock much bigger than the small handle. He wasn’t like
Arthur, he wasn’t at all!
Obviously the broom hadn’t stretched him quite enough to go dry. It was chafing
Arthur’s skin, too, so he quickly removed the tip and spat into his hand. With
that, he coated his erection with a film of saliva, though he knew it wasn’t as
good as oil. Still, they were running a little low, especially after one of his
men had spilled about two barrels of it all over the deck while they’d been in
port. “Terribly sorry, love. Is this better?” He tried again, his cock a bit
more slippery.
Not really Alfred thought to himself, although he nodded his head yes at the
question. It was a little better but still very painful. He would never get
used to this, he’d hate it always he kept telling himself, trying to convince
himself that he wasn’t actually enjoying it.
Arthur pushed in a little further, taking his time and making sure that Alfred
had plenty of time to get used to his size. If there was any internal damage,
at least it’d help him find out. Nothing felt like it was ruptured or bleeding,
though, so that was a good sign. “You’re absolutely breathtaking,” he told
Alfred. Even if he was a dead lay, at least he was attractive. “You have no
idea how much I just want to fuck you senseless right now.” It was difficult to
stay his hips, but he managed.
Alfred opened his eyes, a few tears forming in them as Arthur pushed in. The
spit helped a bit, although it was nothing compared to the oil. He wished
Arthur would be quiet, the man’s compliments only arousing him even further.
“Ssh, don’t cry,” cooed Arthur. “I promise you, you’ll feel better soon enough.
Eventually, you’ll feel almost nothing at all. Cutting through a man’s neck
will be as easy as cutting through the cornfields.” He’d never been a farmer at
any point in his life, so he wasn’t sure just how good the comparison was, but
as long as he got the point across, it wasn’t that big of a deal.
Alfred didn’t want to enjoy murder, he didn’t want to be able to easily torture
others. Arthur’s words felt oddly comforting though, managing to calm him down
a bit.
“There’s my good, strong little lamb…” Arthur pushed his length all the way in
and held it there, just to make sure there wasn’t any pain beyond that of being
penetrated. He’s already lost someone to internal bleeding, and he didn’t want
to lose another. Not that it would make a big difference to know, but still, at
least he would be more prepared if he suddenly just dropped dead out of
nowhere.
Alfred cringed, trying to relax around the girth inside of him. The pain was
starting to die down now, pleasure slowly replacing it. Arthur’s encouragement
was helping with the pain, his own cock leaking more precum.
At long last, Arthur began to move his hips, his moderately-sized length
sliding in and out of the pulsating flesh clinging to it like it was a final
lifeline. “You’re a tight little fuck-toy, aren’t you? Even after that broom.
Pinch your nippes for me, would you?”
Doing as told Alfred reached up, pinching both of his nipples with each hand.
It felt strange doing it to himself, small sparks of pleasure coursing through
his body.
“Don’t hold back. I want to hear your voice. Tell me what you want,” ordered
Arthur. If he said he wanted it to stop, that would certainly kill the mood.
Perhaps that wasn’t such a good demand so early on.
“I-I want y-you to touch me,” Alfred whimpered, that being a partial lie. He
couldn’t just say he wanted the man to stop after all so he settled on what he
assumed Arthur wanted to hear.
“Well, I suppose I can oblige you, seeing as you’re already pregnant.” No, he
wasn’t going to stop that one. Not until it became painfully obvious that it
wasn’t true. Or maybe he could just say that men didn’t ‘show’ to the same
degree that women did. Sometimes he loved being a bad man. Tenderly, he wrapped
his hand around Alfred’s length and stroked it with each thrust into his hole.
Alfred groaned as his cock was touched, finger still pinching his own nipples.
He ignored the pregnancy thing, not wanting to think about it at a time like
this. “Ah…” he gasped, back arching off the bed as Arthur thrusted into him,
his cock leaking a bit of precum.
“That’s right, keep making those faces,” murmured Arthur, alternating between
dirty talk and his slow, sensual licking and sucking of all of Alfred’s most
sensitive spots. From his nipples, to his neck, nowhere was save. His hips
remained as a painfully slow pace; if his pet wanted it faster or harder, he
was going to have to speak up.
Alfred couldn’t help but squirm a bit as Arthur managed to hit all of his sweet
spots, his arms going back down to his side as the pirate licked and bit at his
nipples. Arthur was moving so painfully slow, it was driving Alfred insane.
Arthur made sure to push his cock right up against Alfred’s prostate; no one
knew why it existed, of course, but he’d fucked enough men and been fucked
enough to know that it was certainly there. For a brief moment, he simply kept
it there, the only stimulation being a mild pressure.
Alfred felt like he was being tortured, his hips rolling in an attempt to try
and get Arthur to move, to do anything other than keep still. He didn’t want to
beg though, too ashamed of himself to do it.
As painful as it was to stay still, Arthur couldn’t help but admire Alfred’s
resolve. Still, he had far more experience and control over his body. All the
willpower in the world simply couldn’t compare. He pulled out, and began making
shallow thrusts that didn’t touch Alfred’s spot.
Arthur was intentionally torturing him wasn’t he? Alfred couldn’t take it any
longer, he was going insane. “M-Move faster,” he whimpered, covering his face
with his arm as he said that, a deep blush forming on his cheeks.
“What’s that?” said Arthur, feigning surprise. “I’m afraid you’ll have to speak
up, love. I couldn’t quite hear you.” Every will could be broken. Some just
took a little more creativity than others.
“Move faster!” Alfred practically shouted, a few tears forming in his eyes. He
knew the pirate was just toying with him, pretending he couldn’t hear and it
was rather frustrating.
“As you wish.” It wasn’t enough for him to hear just that, though. Arthur
wanted more. For that reason, he sped up, but kept his shallow thrusts, still
not hitting that spot that he knew would fill Alfred with pleasure.
Alfred whimpered, still not getting as much pleasure as he wanted. He felt like
the pirate was intentionally driving him insane, a few tears slipping down his
cheeks. “P-Please, please stop teasing me.”
“You’ll have to be a little more specific. I’m not quite sure I understand what
it is that you’re asking of me,” said Arthur, doing his best not to smirk. He
almost felt sorry for the poor thing. Almost.
Alfred wasn’t sure how exactly to work it, his mind in such a haze. “M-Move
deeper,” he whimpered, feeling so embarrassed at what he was saying, at how he
was begging the pirate to sodomize him.
“Mind your manners, love. What do we say when we want something?” He really was
feeling evil on that particular day, wasn’t he? It was definitely worth the
agony of waiting a little longer to really begin thrusting into Alfred’s
youthful body.
“P-Please,” Alfred sobbed, partly from being humiliated and partly from
frustration. He just wanted Arthur to move already, the stillness driving him
mad.
How easy it was to tempt young men into the pleasures of the flesh. Alfred
wasn’t a person who could be broken with mere physical abuse; certainly, it
changed his behavior, but he was still just as resentful as ever on the inside.
What Arthur wanted was to break him down mentally; he would have Alfred
genuinely believe that he was subservient. “Of course.” At long last, he
slammed his hips all the way in and sped his pace.
Alfred was just thankful the pirate was finally moving again, his cock which
had been softening now hard again and dripping precum. “Ah,” he moaned, eyes
shut tightly as the other pounded into him, managing to hit his sweet spot
occasionally.
Arthur simply adored the face Alfred was making right then, to the point where
he couldn’t stop himself from giving his cheek a lick. “I’m going to fill you
up with so much of my seed that it’ll spill out your mouth.” That was
physically impossible, obviously, but who had time for physics in the bedroom?
The idea sounded rather disgusting to Alfred, cringing as his cheek was licked.
He could feel himself getting close, pleasure building up as Arthur stroked his
cock.
“That’s it, stay nice and tight for your master,” he panted, still a little
disappointed by Alfred’s lack of verbal responsiveness. Well, perhaps next
time. Or the time after that. He would wait as long as it took. “Do you
understand? You belong to me, and only me. Don’t you ever forget that.”
Alfred’s moans got louder as he got closer to orgasm, his back arching off the
bed in pleasure as he suddenly came. Pleasure washed through his entire body,
spurts of cum splattering over his stomach and chest.
Arthur was quick to follow; unlike his promise, he did not fill Alfred with
enough seed to have it come out his mouth, but he still made sure to coat his
innards with white, sticky essence. He rode it out a bit too roughly, pounding
viciously into Alfred’s prone body without care or mercy in those final,
blissful moments.
"Ah.." Alfred groaned, feeling the pirate fill him up. It was disgusting, he
would never get used to something like that. At least that's what he kept
telling himself.
“Excellent work.” Still as dead a lay as ever, but at least he was a little
less whiny about it. “I take it you want to clean yourself before we begin
target practice?”
Alfred nodded, breathing heavily as he calmed down. He was tired and sore, not
really in the mood for target practice.
“Stand up, then. And stay off of the rug, or you’ll get a thorough beating,”
warned Arthur. He didn’t much care how hurt Alfred was. Pirates had to learn to
ignore their sense of pain. In the future, he might have bullet wounds to
contend with, and one couldn’t simply nap through those.
Alfred nodded, slowly standing up, legs feeling rather shaky. He wished he
could get some time to rest before they went out again, he was awfully tired
from everything that had happened that day.
Arthur began cleaning them both off, talking as he did so. “By the end of the
day, you’ll be able to reload a gun on your own, and hopefully fire with a
little more accuracy than before. I want to be able to trust you to carry one
around on your own. Self-defense only, of course. You can never know when
you’ll be attacked by soldiers, privateers, or bounty hunters. It’s a dangerous
world out there, and I don’t want you dead because you were helpless to protect
yourself.”
“You’d trust me with a gun?” Alfred asked, raising an eyebrow at the other. It
felt strange that Arthur would give him a gun, especially after all of his
previous escape attempts. Not that he’d try and use it to escape, at least not
anytime soon. He knew it was pointless and that even with a gun he was still
outnumbered.
“In the same way I trust you not to choke or stab me to death in my sleep. I
think we both know that you know it would be a completely pointless endeavor,”
said Arthur, standing up straight after wiping off his legs. “In that same
vein, I’d like you to start carrying your own sword at some point, as well.”
Alfred nodded, knowing it was true. With a gun or sword the other pirates would
still be able to overpower him. He had no chance of escaping until they reached
port again but even then his hope for doing so was gradually fading away.
“I’ve got plenty of experience giving weapons to people I don’t trust,” Arthur
went on, sliding his fingers through his messy blonde hair in an effort to make
himself a little more presentable. “This is a pirate ship, after all. Do you
honestly think that I trust any of these men to have my best interests at
heart? Why do you think I lock the door behind us every time we enter this
room?”
“True,” Alfred mumbled, crossing his arms. “Can you help me get redressed?” he
would need help with the corset at least, as much as he didn’t want to wear it.
It still hurt against his wounds on his back which were luckily slowly healing.
“Of course. I’ll tie your corset loosely, to keep it from bothering you during
practice,” said Arthur, already half-dressed, himself. He picked up the corset
and wrapped it around his disheartened pet’s muscular form; he was surprised at
just how little atrophy had taken place in the time he’d spent with minimal
exercise. He would have to rectify that before he turned into a little dough
ball.
Alfred was glad as the corset was tied rather loosely, still able to freely
move in it. Once it was tied he slipped his bloomers on before grabbing the
dress, holding it out so Arthur could help him slide it over his body.
“Honestly, it’s just a long shirt. You should have this figured out by now,”
teased Arthur, assisting Alfred in what he found a rather simple endeavor. He’s
only ever worn a dress twice, but both times he’d been able to put it on
without assistance. Not that he was about to tell Alfred that.
Alfred kept quiet, not bothering to argue the fact that it was rather hard to
move around to get dressed in the corset. Once his dress was on he picked up
the bonnet again, sighing as he put it around his head.
“Well, at least you can do that much on your own,” mused Arthur. He slid his
red coat over his shoulders and brushed off the dust that had accumulated on
its surface. Some would call his insistence on proper, clean attire a bit
macaroni, but he honestly didn’t care what they thought. Anyone that dared to
insult him would be introduced to the barrel of his pistol.
“Yeah,” Alfred mumbled, tying his bonnet. He still felt so sore and tired, not
sure if he would even do well at target practice that day. Asking for a nap
though would just result in more punishment he knew, figuring it was best to
just not argue with the pirate.
“Come along. You’ll feel better once you’re out under the sun. It’s harder to
stay awake with such dim light.” He opened the door for Alfred, holding it like
any self-respecting gentleman would do for a lady.
Alfred nodded, following Arthur up the stairs and outside. He had to blink a
few times to get his eyes adjusted to the light, reaching up to rub them.
Some of the men stared as they passed, but no longer were they filled with the
same disdain and bemusement. Rather, there was a mixture of emotions in the
group, ranging from uneasiness to grudging respect. Even if Alfred couldn’t
pick up on it, Arthur could see it right away. Even if they didn’t yet
recognize him as a full member of the crew, they knew not to toy with him, at
least not to the same extent.
Again Alfred felt rather shy walking by everyone, not picking up on their new
respect for him and instead still feeling embarrassed at what he was wearing
and what had happened earlier. At least no one was laughing he figured,
thankful for that at least.
The sheet from the other day was still up, having since been stitched into
place; from some of the new holes, it was apparent that the other members of
the crew had been using it to get some practice of their own.
“Brown,” called Arthur firmly, and one of the men immediately turned around to
look at him. “Fetch Alfred a flintlock pistol and a holster.” He wanted Alfred
to practice with the same gun from then on, at least until he got the hang of
it. Weapons were like horses; for best results, you had to know them inside and
out. Even the slightest of differences could throw someone off. A master rider
could ride almost any horse without having such issues, but a novice was better
off getting to know just one to begin with.
Without another word, the man ran off to fulfill his request.
Alfred knew nothing about guns, wondering what type it was that Arthur was
getting him. He had to admit though he was a bit excited to be shooting, it was
a bit fun trying to aim and hit targets.
It wasn’t too long before he returned with both of the requested items. Arthur
thanked him for a job well done, and turned his attention back to Alfred.
“This is your holster. I don’t think it needs much explanation, but just in
case, this is where you keep the gun. They’re rather expensive, so it’s best if
you try not to lose it.” He pulled his own off, then demonstrated how to
properly fit the belt around his waist. “See if you can put it on.”
Alfred took the holster, trying to remember what Arthur had done as he put it
around his waist, hoping he had gotten it right. “Like this?”
“Exactly. Nicely done,” said Arthur, nodding approvingly. He then proceeded to
give Alfred the flintlock pistol. “Like the holster, small guns like this are
rather expensive. It can only hold a single shot at a time, so it’s important
that when you use it, you make sure your bullet strikes your target. If you
miss, well, you’d better be good at reloading quickly.” He showed Alfred how
his own gun was stored in its holster, then looked straight into his eyes. “I’m
going to entrust this pistol to you, but it’s for emergencies only. Until
you’ve become a little more seasoned with weaponry and combat, I don’t want you
rushing into battle.”
Alfred nodded, taking the pistol and looking it over. He was a bit nervous
about being given such a weapon, scared he might accidentally hurt himself. “Y-
You’ll show me how to be safe with it right?”
“Of course. As it is now, it’s not even loaded yet.” As though he would simply
give someone a gun and not teach them to use it. The very idea was absurd.
“First, you need to know your weapon. That there is a rifled duelling pistol.
It’s a single-shot, but it’s relatively accurate at a short range.” It suddenly
occurred to him that Alfred probably had no idea what rifling was. “Rifling
means there are grooves on the inside of the barrel that cause the bullet to
spin when it’s fired, increasing accuracy.”
Alfred really had no idea what Arthur was talking about, simply looking the gun
over as he listened. “So I have to reload it after I shoot it?” he asked,
hoping Arthur wouldn’t find any of his questions stupid.
Unfortunately for Alfred, Arthur did find his questions stupid. Fortunately for
Alfred, though, he chose not to voice his irritation that his monologue had
apparently gone unheard. “It’s a single-shot pistol, so yes,” he said in as
calm a voice as he could manage. “Here, I’m going to do this slowly, so pay
close attention.” He took his own gun, and demonstrated to Alfred the proper
technique to load it.
Alfred watched as Arthur showed him how to load the gun, looking over his own
afterwards. He was interested in what he was being taught but he was still
rather scared to be holding such a powerful weapon in his hands.
“It’s really quite simple,” Arthur assured him, noting the look of uneasiness
on his face. “Think of your gun like you would a dog. It exists to serve and
protect you, but you have to treat it with respect, lest you end up getting
bitten. Never forget how dangerous it is, but don’t let caution become fear.”
Alfred nodded, actually finding Arthur’s metaphor rather useful. His family had
owned a dog after all. “Um, thanks,” he muttered, feeling rather grateful to be
now carrying some sort of protection with him.
“Now, load your weapon,” said Arthur, reaching into the side pocket of his own
holster to pull out another bullet and hand it to Alfred.
Alfred nodded, taking the bullet and trying to remember what Arthur had showed
him. Doing his best he managed to load it, or at least he thought so. “L-Like
that?”
“You’re a quick learner,” said Arthur. For all of his lack of common sense, and
in spite of his criminally short attention span, Alfred was getting it rather
quickly. He couldn’t load nearly as quickly as Arthur, but it still didn’t take
quite as long as most complete novices. “Very good. Now, you want to make sure
that the flint is in position. Make sure that the gun is pointed away from your
body, and away from other people. Don’t hold it straight out in front of you;
if you can, try to aim it at an angle towards the sky, just in case you
accidentally fire it.”
“Flint?” Alfred asked, doing as told and holding the gun at an angle so that if
it were to accidentally fire it wouldn’t hurt anyone. He looked over the gun,
trying to find what Arthur was talking about.
“This mechanism, love,” explained Arthur, sliding his hand along the barrel and
placing his fingers on the flint of the gun. “The flintlock mechanism works by
creating a spark that ignites the…” God, if he explained everything, they would
be there throughout the night. “The point is, you have to pull back on it until
it clicks into place. When you pull the trigger, it will shift back quickly and
cause the gun to fire.”
Alfred nodded, holding the gun angled again as he pulled back on the flint,
hearing it click. “Like that?” he asked, hoping he had done it right. He felt
so uneasy about holding a loaded gun, scared that he would accidentally kill
someone.
“Calm down, would you? You were just fine the other day,” said Arthur, raising
one of his prominent eyebrows. “But yes. You have it right. Even loaded, a gun
with a flintlock mechanism will not fire until the flint is pulled back.
Otherwise it can’t ignite. For now, I’d prefer if you didn’t keep it like that
when you’re carrying it around. In the case of an emergency, you may pull back
on the flint, but we wouldn’t want any accidents. So long as you that, it’s
perfectly safe. I promise.”
“Okay,” Alfred said, still holding his gun a bit awkwardly since he had just
pulled the flint back. “Are we going to have target practice?” At least if they
were practicing it kept anyone, including Arthur, from harassing him.
“Of course. I told you we would not ten minutes ago,” said Arthur, still a bit
bothered by Alfred’s incredibly short attention span. Hopefully it wouldn’t
result in someone getting a bullet in their leg because he tripped over a
bucket. “As we did before, I’d like you to try to hit the target on the sheet.”
He couldn’t quite explain it, but he had a feeling that Alfred would do better
that time. Or, really, he supposed he COULD explain it; more likely than not,
his little pet was feeling a bit more relaxed than he had the first time. He
certainly wasn’t completely relaxed, but he seemed to have gotten over some of
his grief. Or perhaps he was simply trying to ignore it. Either way, he was
more clear-headed.
Alfred nodded, looking over at the target Arthur had set up. He was more
relaxed than the first time, holding up the pistol as he aimed it and shot. He
hit a bit off center, shooting a hole through the target.
Arthur couldn’t help but let a grin spread across his face when some of the
members of the crew that had been watching the spectacle gasped with surprise.
“I’d say ‘not bad,’ but that would be an understatement. For your second time
ever holding a gun, I must say that I’m quite impressed.” It was strange. He
used to think that combat prowess would be incredibly unattractive in another
human being. And yet, he couldn’t help but enjoy the sight immensely. It almost
felt as though he’d finally found someone really worth his time and effort.
“Try again.” He handed Alfred another round to load the weapon with.
Alfred clumsily loaded his gun, pulling the flint back before aiming again and
shooting. He was a little more off this time, wondering if his first shot had
just been mere luck. Still, he was hitting the target at least.
As far as Arthur was concerned, it hadn’t been mere dumb luck. Alfred, of
course, wouldn’t know just how inaccurate such a weapon ordinarily was from the
distance they were standing at; even with the rifling, it wasn’t a weapon meant
to be fired from terribly far. Even an expert had no hope of consistently
hitting near the center in such a situation. Alfred wasn’t hitting quite as
well as a seasoned master, but he was still firing with the accuracy of someone
who’d been training for at least a few months, if not more. “Your loading could
use some work.” He couldn’t just sing Alfred’s praises, after all. No crew
member of his would get a swollen head. “Try again. This time, just load the
round, don’t pull back on the flint just yet.”
Alfred nodded again, reloading his gun a bit faster this time. “Okay, got it,”
he said, looking up at Arthur. He rather enjoyed the target practice, it was
fun and he could already tell that he was good at it.
“Better. Now, this time, hold the gun with only one hand when you fire,” said
Arthur. He didn’t expect any miracles, and a single-hand grip meant less
resistance when the recoil hit. Still, he was a teacher, and teachers had to
gauge their student’s prowess before they could move on. One shot like that,
and they would go right back to two hands; a child had to learn to walk before
they could run, after all. Even the most talented of them all still hadn’t yet
built up the strength in their legs to carry themselves for long distances.
 
Alfred held the pistol with one hand now, a bit shaky as he fired. He hit the
edge of the target, ripping a hole right near one of the corners. Using one
hand was a bit more tricky after all.
Arthur simply nodded, a frown on his face. Inside, though, he was quite
pleased. Even with one hand, he’d managed to hit the target. He hadn’t been
knocked back too much by the recoil, either. “Both hands again.” He passed
Alfred a handful of rounds to keep in the pouch of his own holster. In an
emergency, he would have to instinctively know where to reach for his bullets.
Constantly taking them from Arthur could have him spending a split second
looking for someone to hand them to him, and one split second was all that it
took to die.
Alfred held the gun in both hands again, aiming at the target. His luck never
seemed to go right though, just as he hit the trigger he felt his nose tickle,
letting out a violent sneeze as he shot the gun off. Luckily even though he
missed the target he didn’t hit someone, the bullet shooting into the wooden
floor right between one of the crew member’s legs.
The pirate in question jumped, spilling the net full of fish that he’d been
carrying to the deck, and letting out a high-pitched shriek that had the other
men laughing at him in hysterics once they’d seen that he was just fine.
“One of the most important rules about possessing a firearm, Alfred. If you
have to sneeze, you wait to shoot,” said Arthur, pressing his fingers to his
temples. Even if his new toy was prodigious with his aim, there were
innumerable facts and skills that were not yet in his possession. One of them
was learning to take his finger off of the trigger when he thought he was going
to engage in an involuntary bodily reaction that had the potential to shake his
aim. “I think that’s enough for today, wouldn’t you?” He wasn’t sure whether he
wanted to repair the damage in port, or just leave it. It wasn’t as though the
deck hadn’t seen worse than a bullet hole. The truly important thing was that
Alfred had nearly killed someone. Perhaps it would be best if their next
training session was in port, away from people.
Alfred was frightened, glad that he hadn’t actually hit the man. Still he knew
he was bound to be punished for this. “S-Sorry, it came so suddenly,” he said,
avoiding eye contact with the pirate. He hated how he always had to mess things
up.
“You need to be aware of your own bodily functions. There are going to be
things beyond your control, and you need to be capable of predicting when they
happen.” Arthur knew very well that Alfred couldn’t stop himself from sneezing,
but he had to make sure that he was just as aware of himself as he was
everything else. “Perhaps most importantly, do not make excuses. You will
apologize to the man you almost killed, and you will accept the consequences
with dignity.”
"Yes, sorry," Alfred muttered, looking up at the rather startled looking
pirate. "I'm sorry I almost shot you," he said, actually feeling a bit bad. At
least he hadn't actually hit the man, who knew what Arthur would do to him
otherwise.
The pirate could only nod slowly, still shuddering after his brush with death.
Another one of the men jabbed the shocked man in the side. “Oh, come off it, he
didn’t even hit you.” Upon closer inspection, Arthur noted that the man Alfred
had nearly shot was one of the people they’d picked up from the merchant ship.
With new people to pick on, it seemed that Alfred’s period of hazing had been
shortened. “Get back to work, you dandy!”
“Y-yes, sir,” squeaked the ex-merchant.
Alfred still felt bad, glad at least that he hadn’t hurt the other. “Y-You’re
not gonna punish me are you?” he asked, thinking it would be rather unfair to
be punished. After all it wasn’t his fault he had to sneeze.
“I believe I just told you to accept the consequences with dignity,” said
Arthur curtly. He hated having to repeat himself, and he was quite irritated
that it was such a common problem when dealing with Alfred.
“R-Right,” Alfred said. He was nervous it wasn’t his fault he was being
forgetful. “What’s my punishment gonna be?”
“Since you apologized without a fight, I’ll let you off with a spanking,” said
Arthur, a smirk tugging at his lips. More humiliating than painful. Of course,
there was that brand. He wasn’t sure just how much it had healed yet. “Bend
over one of those crates. Come on.”
The man that had nearly been shot just stared at him as though he’d lost his
mind. “A spanking? He almost killed me!” The man supervising him tried to calm
him down, but to no avail. “First the man in the dress, then the sodomy with
the brooms, and now this? What the Hell is wrong with you people? Are you all
just a bunch of sick perverts?”
“Yes,” answered one of the other men, jokingly slapping him on the ass. The
others roared with laughter, while the man that had just barely escaped death
only shrieked and ran off to the other side of the ship.
Alfred had to admit it was rather amusing in a sick way, immediately feeling
bad right after. “Bend over the crates?” Alfred asked, assuming that his
punishment would have been done in private in Arthur’s bedroom. “Y-You’re gonna
do it out here in front of everyone?”
“You really should be used to this by now,” mused Arthur. “It isn’t as though
the crew hasn’t seen you in worse positions, before.” Like underneath a massive
orgy, taking two cocks at once. He was known for his bizarre punishments;
though he hated to admit it, Francis had rubbed off on him in more ways than he
cared to admit. The men were mostly used to it by that point. The sailors of
the Unicorn were quickly assimilated to the ship’s social structure, and
delighted in the hazing of new recruits.
It was true, the crew had seen Alfred in way worse situations, although that
didn’t mean he was used to it. With a sigh he walked over to the crate that had
been brought up, bending over it and sticking his ass out.
Arthur was very pleased by Alfred’s timely compliance with his demands, and
gave him a gentle pat on the rump. “I think ten swats is enough. After all, you
still have to get back to work after all this.” Though, he would make sure to
supervise his chores personally, and possibly teach him a thing or two about
the ship. They were holding crew-wide cannon drills the next day in preparation
for their raid on the Spanish, so it would be a good chance to demonstrate
their use to both Alfred and all of the men that still had to be trained.
Alfred whimpered, shutting his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the other
pirates all watching, staring at him. He kept telling himself it wouldn’t be so
bad, it was just a spanking. After all he’d gone through way worse recently.
Arthur couldn’t help but notice that the others were making it a point not to
stare too much, or laugh particularly hard at Alfred’s plight. He almost
laughed, himself; perhaps his newfound ruthlessness was a little off-putting?
Or maybe they were just worried that he would go to Arthur to have his troubles
remedied. He actually found himself hoping it was the former. He wasn’t sure
when he’d picked up a desire for a strong, capable pet, but the concept aroused
him so. The thought of pinning down and ravaging someone actually capable of
putting up some sort of a fight if they so chose was a sexy one.
It felt like Arthur was taking forever, Alfred keeping his eyes tightly shut as
he tried not to visibly tremble. He’d experienced worse he told himself, it was
just a simple spanking.
At last, Arthur brought his hand down and struck Alfred hard across his covered
bottom. “Well, that didn’t make much of an impact,” he noted, pulling up on his
dress to remove one of the layers of fabric between his hand and the pale flesh
beneath. “Keep count. Unless you want to keep starting over.”
Alfred whimpered at the contact, shivering as his dress was suddenly hiked up.
“S-Sorry,” he muttered. “O-One..” It wasn’t that painful, it was more the
humiliation that was getting to him, hearing a bit of laughter from some of the
pirates.
The second strike came down over his bloomers. Once again, Arthur was a bit
dismayed by the lack of a satisfying smack, so he pulled those down a little
ways, too. Just enough to make sure that every strike of his hand came into
contact with Alfred’s round backside. “That brand came out very nicely,” he
commented, taking a moment to slide his fingers over the marking.
It still hurt a bit, Alfred hissing in pain as Arthur’s fingers slid over the
sensitive flesh. “T-Two,” he said, almost forgetting to keep count. Just a
little more he kept telling himself, then it would be all over.
Smack! At last. There was the sound he’d been going for. Arthur made sure the
blow was sharp enough to leave a red handprint behind. After all, just because
he’d limited himself to ten didn’t mean he was going to be gentle.
“Three,” Alfred whimpered, flinching as he was smacked again. Seven more to go,
he could do this he kept repeating in his head.
“You’ve got such a nice bottom. I’ve half a mind to let someone else take a
turn,” teased Arthur, giving it yet another smack. He turned to one of the men
standing nearby. “What say you? Do you want a turn?”
“N-not really,” the man said, backing off a bit.
“Suit yourself.”
Alfred felt a bit relieved that the man Arthur had asked had refused, just
wanting Arthur to do the punishment himself. “Four,” he cried out, the hits
starting to sting a bit, especially against his brand.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Three more landed, one after the other. It was partially
just because he was in a rush to get other things done, partially because
seeing Alfred in pain was entertaining, and partially because he was curious to
see just how well his little lamb would be able to count under pressure. Lord
knew he was scatterbrained even when he didn’t have an excuse.
“F-Five, six..” Alfred whimpered, taken off guard by the three swaps in a row.
“S-Seven..” Still, the last thing he wanted was for Arthur to start over again
just because he messed up counting.
“I’m not sure what bothers me more. Your accent, or that dreadful stammering.
Toughen up,” said Arthur, striking Alfred yet again. To be a pirate meant being
capable of ignoring such minor pain, especially in the heat of battle. You
couldn’t just call a time out because someone shot you in the leg.
“Eight,” Alfred squeaked out, trying not to stutter. It was hard considering
the pain he was in and the humiliation he was feeling. He was almost done
though, just two more.
SMACK! Arthur wanted to make sure the last two were the hardest. Despite
Alfred’s already-reddened bottom, he was a pirate, and pirates were not known
for their mercy. “You’re almost done. There’s my good little lamb.”
“Nine,” Alfred whimpered, trying not to stutter. The pain was getting to be
unbearable, his ass stinging as if it was on fire.
Arthur licked his lips; he didn’t care what the others thought. It wasn’t as
though they didn’t know what he was doing with Alfred when he dragged him back
into the captain’s quarters. He’d been quite the ‘prude’ once, back before he’d
encountered Francis. That had changed very quickly, when it was a matter of
getting used to the man’s unwanted advances or just plain dying. He raised his
hand high for the final blow, and brought it down as hard as he possibly could.
SMACK!
Alfred screamed out, a few tears running down his cheeks as he muttered out a
rather pathetic ‘ten’. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Arthur would have done
this in private, the laughter he could hear from the pirates almost felt worse
than the pain he was in.
Arthur took the liberty of pulling Alfred’s white bloomers up for him, and
tugged his dress back down over his backside. His bottom was a little red, and
sitting down would probably sting for the rest of the day, but he was really no
worse for wear. It was certainly better than the whip. After the first few
lashes, he hadn’t been able to do much to Alfred for ages, but it seemed his
back was finally getting to the point where he wasn’t having big issues
anymore. Next time he would remember to use one of the regular whips; those
left a few nasty cuts, but they didn’t tear off flesh in the same way that the
barbed one did.
Alfred stood up now, tugging his dress all the way back down. “Um, what now?”
he asked, chewing his lower lip in nervousness. He wanted to practice more
shooting but knew he’d probably had enough for the day, especially with that
close call earlier.
“Now, you’re going to finish cleaning. With me supervising, of course. Not that
I think anyone else will try anything,” he said, looking about the ship and
giving threatening glares to anyone he suspected might have tried something.
The men seemed to have very quickly figured out that it wasn’t worth it,
especially after what had happened to the last few that had engaged in such
activities.
Alfred looked around, finding the discarded broom lying on the ground. Walking
over he picked it up and headed back to Arthur. “Are you wanting me to sweep
more?” he asked, hoping that would just be it, he really did hate to clean.
“Unless you’d rather polish something else,” Arthur answered, standing on his
toes to nip at Alfred’s earlobe. An act that, naturally, in no way made him
feel self-conscious about the fact that Alfred was taller. Not at all. However,
for the sake of instilling a bit of humility in his little pet, he would have
to remember to train him to bend over when Arthur wanted to nip his ear.
Forcing the captain to stand on his toes was just disrespectful. That was his
reasoning, and he was sticking with it.
Alfred blushed a bit, gripping the broom tightly as his ear was bit. “Where do
you want me to clean?” Back where he had been earlier? He really didn’t want to
go back down there, at least not for today.
“The deck where we keep the prisoners hasn’t been cleaned up in ages,”
suggested Arthur. There were still about a dozen men down there, locked up and
irritated, but Alfred needed to learn how to cope with unhappy idiots.
“Alright,” Alfred said, letting the pirate lead him down there. As they entered
he saw a few men still down there, from the merchant ship he figured. With a
sigh he he started walking down the steps, not looking forward to any stares or
comments he was going to get.
“You!” screamed one of the men as soon as Alfred’s face came into view. “You
were the one who tricked us! The lady-man!” The others, too, began angrily
shouting at him, their angry chatter proving quite annoying for Arthur.
“I-I’m not a lady-man!” Alfred shouted, clutching the broom tightly as he
walked past them. It was humiliating, wishing they would just keep quiet.
“Yes you are!” jeered the vengeful men. “You’re wearing a dress right now!”
“Excuse me, but no he isn’t,” said Arthur firmly. “He’s not a man at all.” He
couldn’t help it. Even when he was in a good mood, and Alfred was compliant, it
was just too difficult to refrain from messing with the reactive ex-farmer.
Alfred was chewing his bottom lip, trying to keep quiet so he wouldn’t get in
further trouble. Taking the broom he simply began to sweep, just wanting to
finish up his cleaning.
“Lady-man!” shouted the men in unison, clearly in an attempt to get some sort
of a reaction out of him. Arthur simply stood by to watch the scene play out.
Really, he was surprised they weren’t screaming at him, especially considering
he was the captain. Perhaps it was just because Alfred had been the most
memorable figure in their capture.
“Shut up!” Alfred screamed back, arms trembling as he swept the room. He had
been hoping that maybe, just maybe the men they had captured would be more
sympathetic to his plight instead of more teasing and taunting.
Arthur sighed, a bit disappointed that Alfred was handling it so poorly. The
best way to deal with such things was to remain calm and demonstrate that you
were in control of the situation. Instead, he was losing his temper. “Quiet,
you lot,” he said, a bit forcefully. When they didn’t shut up, he pulled out
his gun and shot one in the chest.
The action sent them all into a panic, screaming and crying over the man as he
lay bleeding out over the hardwood floor, shuddering and sobbing. One less
mouth to feed. He would let them keep the corpse in with them until it started
to smell; then he would just dump it overboard. Still, he felt a bit bad for
giving Alfred more to clean.
Alfred screamed as well, jumping back to avoid stepping in the blood that was
now seeping across the floor. “Y-You didn’t hafta kill him!” he screamed,
turning to look at Arthur, tears visibly forming in his eyes.
“What? He was annoying,” said Arthur, as though he were trying to justify his
alcohol expenses to a nagging wife. “Besides, I didn’t kill him. He’s still
alive. I merely inflicted a fatal wound.” Alfred was going to have to numb
himself to death if he wanted to stay anywhere remotely close to sane.
“You monster!” screamed one of the merchants, their attention redirected at
Arthur, who only sighed and began to reload his gun.
“B-But he’s gonna die anyways,” Alfred said, dropping the broom as he stared at
the man’s limp body. He wasn’t sure if he could ever get used to death, tears
flowing down his cheeks.
“So what? You’re still alive, aren’t you?” asked Arthur, firing off another
shot. It narrowly missed its target, instead burying itself deep in the walls.
The men quickly quieted down. “Their lives are meaningless. You can’t expect to
earn anyone’s respect if you aren’t willing to take it by force.”
Alfred whimpered, slowly nodding his head before bending over and picking the
broom back up. Was he still supposed to sweep despite the blood seeping across
the floor? It seemed rather pointless now.
Arthur stared down at the blood pooling over the wood. “Well, I suppose I’ll
just get someone else to clean up down here, if you’re going to get squeamish.
Let’s go up a deck, then, shall we?”
Alfred nodded, dropping the broom again. He was feeling a bit sick from
everything, the smell starting to get to him too. “What do you want me to do
upstairs?”
“Get rid of some of the cobwebs, maybe,” suggested Arthur, adjusting his bright
red coat. Ordinarily, he would be above deck, supervising his men and plotting
their next course of action, occasionally joining in to help with the work when
they needed an extra set of hands. Watching Alfred clean and making sure he
didn’t screw up was undeniably dull by comparison.
Alfred followed the pirate up deck, looking around for any areas that would
need cleaning. He felt a bit more safe now that Arthur had made it very clear
that any crew members found harassing him would be punished. “Um, if you just
tell me where to go I can clean there.”
“The stores need to be tidied up,” said Arthur, deciding it would be a good
time to take an inventory while Alfred got rid of some of the dust and grime.
He still had to make sure none of the men had taken more than their fair share
of the loot, and make sure that they had enough alcohol to make the trip down
south to where Spain had set up shop in the so-called ‘new world.’
Alfred nodded, thinking that didn't sound too bad. At least he wouldn't be
around any of the other crew members. He did have to wonder though if he'd be
sleeping in the brig with the prisoners, shaking the thought from his mind.
“I’m sure I don’t need to worry, but just so you can’t complain about how I
didn’t warn you...” began Arthur, heading across the deck to go down a separate
set of steep steps. “...if I find anything in your pockets that shouldn’t be
there when we leave, I’ll cut off your hand.” He didn’t think he had any reason
to be concerned, really; Alfred had no reason to try to steal anything.
"I-I won't steal anything!" Alfred said, shocked at what he heard. He didn't
want to steal anything anyways, not like there was anything there he wanted.
“That means anything, J- Jacobs? What was your last name again?” Arthur asked
himself out loud, struggling to remember. Had Alfred even told him? “Well, I
suppose it’s Kirkland, now, so it doesn’t matter.”
"My name is Jones," Alfred pouted, not wanting to share a name with Arthur.
"Alfred Jones, not Kirkland," he kept quiet after that though, knowing he was
already making Arthur mad enough.
It was too late for damage control; his comment had already angered Arthur, who
stopped dead in his tracks and looked Alfred right in the eye. “Your name is
Alfred Kirkland. See to it that you remember it. Is that clear, Jones?”
Alfred really had a hard time keeping his mouth shut. "If it's Kirkland then
why did you just call me Jones?" he asked, glaring at the pirate.
“Irony,” said Arthur flatly. He should have expected as much. He was being far
too nice to his pet. Alfred was cute and stupid, and he’d allowed him to grow
too confident for his own good. He didn’t mind confidence around the crew, or
even in himself. But Arthur was his master, and he was to behave himself in his
presence. He stepped forward, towards Alfred, his pistol still in hand from
earlier. “I don’t appreciate backtalk, you know.”
Alfred took a deep breath, noticing the pirate's hand on his gun. "S-Sorry," he
mumbled, crossing his arms and chewing his lower lip. He really really needed
to learn to think before he spoke.
Apologies weren’t about to get him out of the situation he was in. “You’re
incredibly stupid, you know,” said Arthur, pressing the barrel of his gun up
under Alfred’s chin. “Did you not just witness me kill a man in cold blood, as
though it were nothing? Do you somehow fail to realize just how easy it would
be for me to do the same to you?” Perhaps he hadn’t gotten through to Alfred
just how replaceable he was. “You are not my first pet, and at the rate you’re
going, you won’t be the last. I’ve killed dozens like you on a whim before. You
should count yourself fortunate that you aren’t currently sitting at the bottom
of the ocean right now. As it stands, the only reason you’re still alive is
because I find your stupidity entertaining. You are worthless to me.” He
finally put the gun away in its holster, without once taking his eyes off of
Alfred. “If you value your life, you’ll remedy that by becoming useful.”
Alfred was trembling, the cold barrel of the gun causing goosebumps to rise on
his skin. "I-I'm sorry," he whimpered, a few tears forming in his eyes. He
hated being insulted, hated how the pirate knew just what to say to turn him
into a blubbering mess.
Arthur nodded, satisfied. It seemed that Alfred had just needed a little
reminder of just who was in charge. “Good. Now come along, pet. We have work to
do. I expect you’ll mind your manners from here on out.” Still, there was some
concern that the message hadn’t quite sunk in. Just to provide a bit more of a
visual, he held up the front of his own coat to show Alfred the buttons. “You
see the buttons here? These are carved from the bones of some of my favorite
conquests. Only my favorites, of course; my best keepsakes are the teeth in the
chest in my quarters. One tooth from each of my previous pets. I think there
are about forty-nine in total, at the moment. I’d hate to have you become
number fifty.”
Alfred's eyes went wide as he looked, feeling a bit disgusted. "Wh-why do you
keep their teeth?" He asked, unable to think of a reason other than the fact
that Arthur was just insane. Forty-nine other people had been in his position
though? The thought scared Alfred, knowing one wrong move could end up with him
dead.
Arthur looked at him with a surprised expression, the question having been a
bit unexpected. Out of all the people he’d told the story to, Alfred had been
the only person to actually be interested in the ‘why?’ “The fairies like them,
obviously.” Some of the other pirates working nearby rolled their eyes, but he
paid them no heed. The fairies had been his only friends on Francis’ ship.
Well, them and Flying Mint Bunny. The unicorns only ever visited him on shore;
they didn’t like the sea very much, and the pegasi were just too shy. “Though
they do double as nice keepsakes. I wanted to make a necklace out of them, but
they insisted I just leave them in the chest.” One didn’t simply mess with
magical creatures.
Alfred frowned at that, obviously not believing a word of it. "Fine if you
don't wanna tell me just say so," it would be ridiculous to think that such a
ruthless pirate would believe in fairies and such. "So what do you want me to
do after I clean up?"
“I did tell you the truth,” Arthur began, but he gave up before he could argue
the point. In all his time as captain, he’d only ever met a few other people
that claimed to be able to see the fairies, or at least believe in them.
Unfortunately, they’d been nutcases. Who knew? “When you’re done cleaning up, I
expect you to join me for dinner.”
Alfred nodded, also not wanting to argue it further. He followed Arthur until
they reached the stores, hoping there wasn't much to clean. His stomach was
rumbling a bit at the mention of dinner..
Unfortunately for Alfred - it seemed there were very few times since he’d
gotten on the ship that he had, in fact, been fortunate - the room they entered
was absolutely covered in dust and grime, all packed between crates, barrels,
and other such objects.
“I don’t expect perfection, but if you could at least scrape off some of the
mold, that would be a start,” mused Arthur, a bit peckish, himself.
Alfred looked around the room. It was rather disgusting, mold growing in the
corners, dust piled up. "What should I scrape the mold away with?" He asked,
figuring the broom wasn't cut out for that job.
Arthur passed him a knife; he always kept a knife in his pocket, and though he
didn’t usually like to use them on such menial tasks, that particular one was
due to be replaced soon, anyway. The edge was dull, and it was growing to rusty
to sharpen without the risk of breaking it. Still, it would get the job of
scraping mold away done just fine. “Have fun. I’ll be taking an inventory.”
Alfred sighed, taking the knife and walking over to one of the corners of the
room where some mold was growing. He kneeled down and got to work, tediously
scraping off the disgusting mold growing there.
Seconds passed, which faded into minutes, which quickly added up to a little
more than a half an hour or so. Arthur, his own stomach rumbling unpleasantly,
put down the parchment and quill he’d been using to keep track of their
supplies and gently nudged Alfred as he worked.
“Ready to take a break?”
Alfred had scraped quite a bit of mold and was now sweeping everything into a
pile as he was nudged. "Yeah, that would be nice," he said, rather tired of
cleaning. It was boring and his stomach had been rumbling ever since Arthur had
mentioned food.
“Good. We found some salted salmon on that merchant ship, and we still have a
seemingly never-ending supply of corn,” said Arthur, grimacing at the thought.
It wasn’t even that bad of a food in terms of taste; he was just always sick of
it by the time they made it back to England. At least he didn’t have to pretend
to enjoy the hardtack. “If you’d like, you may have a glass of rum.”
"Corn is good," Alfred said, loving the stuff. "I'll skip on the rum though,
water is fine," who knew what the pirate would do to him if he ended up getting
drunk.
“Such a lightweight. Any spouse of mine needs to be capable of holding their
liquor,” mused Arthur, beginning the trek up the stairs.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry this took so long, guys. Stuff happens. Funny story, this part
     has actually been done for aaaaaages. As well as several more
     chapters of content. We just never got around to posting it. ^^' More
     to come, hopefully a little quicker this time. This is still being
     written, I promise. You may want to re-read the last part of the last
     chapter for this to make sense; I'm afraid the last chapter was
     accidentally cut off mid-scene due to the way the roleplay was
     carried out over multiple documents and copy-paste them into Archive
     of Our Own, so this actually picks up right after. Like, same
     conversation and everything. Sorry again!
“I’ve never drank before,” Alfred mumbled, crossing his arms as he followed
Arthur. The last thing he wanted was to end up getting drunk around the pirate.
“Liar.  You had a little to numb the pain after I branded you, remember?”
pointed out Arthur.  Really, his pet had absolutely no long-term memory to
speak of.  “Or do you mean you’ve never had it simply for pleasure before?”
“I meant that, that I’ve never really drank a lot before. I know I had some
earlier but it was only a little,” Alfred pouted, knowing Arthur must be
thinking he was stupid.
“Well, if you’re going to be a pirate, you need to learn how to hold your
liquor.  That is, if you don’t want to be a laughingstock,” said Arthur,
guiding him back up on deck and through the door leading to the captain’s
quarters.
Alfred assumed that meant he was going to be forced to drink whether he liked
it or not. He could remember the last time he had gotten alcohol, a bit
embarrassed over how he had acted. It was obvious Arthur was going to try the
same thing again.
“We’ll just have to condition you into tolerating it better,” Arthur continued.
 He was already pouring the rum into shot glasses for the both of them; he
wanted Alfred to have at least two.  That would be a good start.  Just enough
to make him more willing to do things he otherwise wouldn’t be so inclined to
try, but not so much that he would be a slobbering, vomiting mess, or have a
terrible hangover the next day.
Alfred sat down once they reached Arthur’s quarters, watching the pirate poured
the alcohol into two small glasses. He didn’t argue over it, knowing that
whatever Arthur wanted Arthur would get. Reaching forward he took one of the
glasses, holding it up to his lips and quickly swallowing. It tasted
disgusting, goosebumps rising on his skin as he shuddered. “Ugh.”
“You could have waited until I actually brought the food,” said Arthur flatly.
 There was simply no sense of situational awareness in his pretty little head.
 Never before had he allowed someone so uncouth to live for longer than a few
days.  Perhaps he was going soft.  Or maybe it was just because Alfred was
particularly hot.  Probably the second one.  He poured Alfred another shot of
rum.  “If you’ll stay seated and wait, I’ll be back with some dinner.”
Alfred gave Arthur a glare, his body feeling a bit warm. “Well excuse me,” he
sarcastically said, crossing his arms. He watched Arthur walk off, his eyes
going to the shot of rum in front of him. He really didn’t want to drink
anymore, hoping that the pirate’s plan wasn’t to get him so drunk he wouldn’t
remember what happened.
A few minutes passed before Arthur returned, pushing the door open with a
single plate in hand, and two expensive silver forks looted from the merchant
ship.  On it was a large, boiled ear of corn, alongside a freshly-cooked salmon
and a few lime wedges.  He set it down on the table, and took a seat across
from Alfred.  “There you go.”  He passed him one of the forks.
Alfred took the fork, his stomach growling again as he looked at the food. It
looked amazing, especially compared to all the hardtack he had been eating.
Reaching forward he took a chunk of the salmon, stuffing it into his mouth.
“It’s really good,” he said, swallowing up the food in his mouth.
“Don’t forget to have one or two of the lime wedges.  Staves off gum disease,”
said Arthur.  That was what the fairies had told him, anyway, and the evidence
seemed to support it.  God only knew why, but he wasn’t going to question it.
 Perhaps it was just magic.  He himself took a small bite of the fish, by that
point used to small portions.  When one lived on a ship, one had to be able to
make do with less, even on nights where he decided to treat himself to
something nice.
Alfred nodded, taking one of the wedges and shoving it in his mouth. He cringed
a bit at it, sucking the juice out before taking a bite of the actual fruit. He
wouldn’t argue with Arthur over whether it was true or not. He could eat a bit
of sour fruit to make the pirate content.
“And have another sip of rum, too.  We can’t let it go to waste,” said Arthur,
taking a shot of it, himself.  He made sure to pace himself, though; he’d
already had a little bit earlier that day, while Alfred was supposed to have
been cleaning.  He didn’t want to end up going through all that effort just to
get wasted, himself.  As much as he’d tried to condition himself, he was still
only moderately good at holding liquor, himself, though he’d improved greatly
since his days on Francis’ ship.  Uhg, he could just hear that frog’s voice in
his head, if they ever met again.  ‘Still getting hangovers from a single shot
of wine, I see?’ he would say, in that God-awful French accent.
Alfred nodded, picking up the glass of rum and downing it. Again he could feel
goosebumps rise on his skin as his body trembled. It tasted just as bad as the
first shot and he had to wonder how anyone could actually drink and enjoy the
stuff.
Arthur watched Alfred’s face carefully, intent on seeing just how much of an
effect the alcohol was having.  As embarrassing as it was to admit, Alfred was
larger than he was, and could quite possibly take a little more before his mind
began going fuzzy.  Still, just to be on the safe side, he decided to wait it
out.  He could always get him more drunk, but he couldn’t take the alcohol back
once it was in his system.  Best to try to gauge his mental state through
conversation.  “So, did you enjoy your revenge today?”
Alfred had to admit his head was feeling a bit fuzzy, warmth spreading over his
body. “N-No…” he responded, setting down his fork at that. Okay, it had felt a
little good to teach those men a lesson but at the same time it made him feel
like Arthur, and the last thing he wanted was to become like the pirate.
Maybe just a touch more.  Arthur poured him a half a shot, just before downing
another, himself.  “Oh, really?  You seemed to be having a good time,” he
mused, taking another bite of the fish.  He actually quite liked the taste of
rum.  He still had fuzzy memories of better days, when he was a young child
drinking the stuff with his parents.  “I’m proud of you, you know.”
Alfred downed the rum, setting his glass down a bit clumsily. He was already
starting to feel it’s effects. “I-I just wanted them to feel what I felt,” he
said, trying to convince himself he was nothing like Arthur. Taking his fork he
ate another bite of salmon, hoping the pirate would just drop the subject.
“But it felt good, didn’t it?” said Arthur, grinning.  He didn’t pour any more
rum; he wanted to see if Alfred had had enough yet.  “Don’t tell me you didn’t
like having that sort of power over another person, to see them suffer as you
suffered.”  Such a child.  The best way to control people wasn’t with the
threat of revenge, it was with preemptive discipline!  BEFORE they got the
chance to act out to such a major degree!
Alfred chewed on his bottom lip, slowly nodding his head. “I-It only felt good
because they had hurt me,” he said, reaching forward and taking a bite of the
corn. He was nothing like Arthur, who enjoyed torturing others for his own
amusement.
“Doesn’t it make you happy that you made an example of them?  That no one else
will ever dare do what they did to you again?” prodded Arthur, contemplating
possibly giving Alfred just one more half a shot.  “Surely you wanted to earn
their respect… Their fear.”
“I-I wanted them to know the pain I felt is all,” Alfred said, stumbling over
his words just a bit. He did not enjoy torturing others for fun!
Yes, he definitely needed one more half a shot.  Arthur poured it into the
glass, then set the bottle down.  If that didn’t get the job done, he didn’t
know what would.  “Of course, darling.  So, why don’t you tell me a little more
about yourself?  Your family, perhaps?  I heard you have a brother.”
Alfred audibly groaned as he saw the pirate pour more rum, reaching forward and
downing it as quick as he could. “Yeah, we’re twins,” he said, the alcohol
starting to affect him a bit. “Until you tore me away from him at least.”
“I’ll tell you what,” said Arthur; he wasn’t sure why, but he just had a good
feeling that perhaps Alfred would be the one pet that stuck around a little
longer than the others.  As it was, he was already on the upper end of the
spectrum.  Though, he’d had that feeling at least twice before, and had been
wrong on both occasions.  “You behave yourself, train hard, and give me your
loyalty, and the next time we’re in the area - which, in case you’re worried
I’m trying to trick you, we will return to in less than a year’s time - we’ll
drop by for a visit.  See how the dear old family is holding up.”  He almost
wanted to see that.  To watch Alfred’s hopes and dreams be crushed by their
inevitable rejection.  He didn’t seem to want to admit it, but he’d already
changed too much to ever be able to return to that life and gain acceptance
from the others.
Alfred could barely believe it, eyes going wide as he stared at the pirate. “E-
Even if that was true how would you find em,” he said, words slurred just a
bit. His family could be anywhere, after all they obviously would have had to
have moved after Arthur’s crew destroyed his village.
“Even if they’ve moved - and Puritans are a stubborn lot, let me tell you -
they can’t have gone very far.  What, are they going to move the entire
population to a new settlement?  They’ll just latch on to whatever is closest
until they can rebuild,” said Arthur.  Their persistence was about the only
admirable thing about them, in his not-so-humble opinion.  They were horrible
customers, too; all that talk of not placing value on material goods… “We’ll
have plenty of time come late Fall to see dear old mummy and daddy again before
we set sail for England.”  He had some under-the-table deliveries to make… He’d
have to make a stop in France, too.  Damn it.
Alfred wasn’t too optimistic about the whole thing but if there was just the
slightest chance of seeing his family again he would do whatever it took.
Clumsily he took a bite of the corn, his head already starting to spin from the
rum.
“How cute,” said Arthur as his adorable little ‘wife’ struggled to eat the
corn.  He himself hadn’t had much to drink at all, and he was surprised that
Alfred hadn’t even attempted to point it out.  Still, he supposed he was better
off for it.  “Don’t you think it could use a little salt, though?”
“Yeah I guess,”Alfred said, dropping the corn back down onto the plate. He felt
warm all over, hoping that Arthur was done with making him drink the rum. He
couldn’t even tell if he was drunk, just that his head felt hazy and movements
clumsy.
“Good, because I have some for you right here,” said Arthur, motioning towards
his trousers.  “You’ll have to get it yourself, though.”  He almost felt sorry
for the poor thing.  He looked rather out of it, and he wasn’t yet sure if he
looked positively stupid, or completely adorable.  After about a moment of
evaluation, he decided that the answer was both.
Alfred had not been expecting that, wishing he had said no to the salt. It was
obvious now that he had to do it, especially with Arthur’s little promise just
now. “F-Fine,” he muttered, sliding to the floor and crawling up so that he was
between Arthur’s legs, hands going up to undo the man’s trousers.
He didn’t appear to have put up much of a fuss, but he still seemed a bit on
the reluctant side.  Arthur hoped that someday his spouse would be a little
more excited about such acts.  “Come on, love, put it in your mouth.”  Alfred
hadn’t sucked him off as much as he would have liked, and his skills were in
dire need of improvement.  “Remember to use your tongue, and suck.”
Alfred nodded, taking Arthur’s cock in his right hand before moving his mouth
down and over the tip. It did taste a bit salty he thought to himself, shutting
his eyes as he began to move his head up and down.
“There’s a good pet.  Keep moving your head like that, you’re doing a great
job,” praised Arthur, hoping to strike just the right balance between the
carrot and the stick.  It was clear he needed a little more stick, but that
didn’t mean he wanted to completely eliminate the carrot.
Alfred simply did as told, continuing to bob his head, letting his tongue drag
along the sides. He doubted he was doing that well with his slight drunkenness,
a bit of drool sliding down his chin.
Even if Alfred’s performance itself wasn’t fantastic, Arthur had to applaud his
effort.  Besides, just watching him make those faces was painfully erotic.
 “Now pull it out of your mouth and give it a kiss.”
The request sounded rather weird to Alfred but he was in no position to argue,
pulling his head back and letting the man's cock slip from his mouth. Holding
it with his hand he leaned down, planting a small kiss to the tip.
“Now lick and kiss both testicles,” he said bluntly.  He didn’t want to leave
any room for misinterpretation, given that not only was Alfred drunk, but he
was a complete moron to begin with.  If it weren’t for his entertaining
attitude and cute face, he would have been dead ages ago.
Alfred nodded, not really thinking about what he was doing. Lifting Arthur's
cock up he dragged his tongue along one testicle, then the other before giving
both of them a light kiss.
“Good boy.  Tell me how good it tastes,” he ordered.  He highly doubted that it
tasted at all good, but that wasn’t the point.  It was much like how he’d
forced Alfred to tell him how excited he was to be his ‘wife,’ not too long
ago.  It was all about control.  He controlled his actions, his words…
Eventually, he hoped to hold a tighter grip on his thoughts, too.
“G-Good,” Alfred mumbled, pulling back to say that before leaning forward again
and taking in the head of Arthur’s cock. As long as he said what the pirate
wanted things would go smoothly.
“Don’t mumble.  I hate it when people mumble,” said Arthur.  Mumbling was one
of the least attractive forms of speech, in his humble opinion.  He expected it
to sound fake - there was no way anything down there tasted in any way good -
but he wanted a little enthusiasm.  “Do you want it inside you, you filthy
whore?”
The alcohol wasn’t helping Alfred much, his eyes looking up at the pirate as he
slipped the man’s cock out of his mouth. “Yes, I do,” he said, much more
clearly this time. It wasn’t like he could just tell the man no after all.
“Tell me what position you want it in,” said Arthur, doing all he could to get
Alfred a little more into what they were doing; he could fuck him whenever he
wanted, that was easy enough.  What he really wanted, though, was to have a
more eager partner.
“Um, I-I can just lay down on the bed I guess,” Alfred said, chewing on his
lower lip. He hated how the pirate was letting him choose such things. He
didn’t want that, he’d rather just be forced into it, at least then he could
keep convincing himself he didn’t want it.
How boring.  His little Puritan pet really needed to get an imagination.  Ah,
well.  If he pushed him into anything else, he wouldn’t be able to pin the idea
on Alfred.  “As you wish.”  At the very least, he hoped he wouldn’t be such a
dead lay, and would take a more active role once he was in the mood.  “But
before that, why don’t you touch yourself for me?”
Alfred held in his groan at hearing that command, slowly standing up and moving
over to the pirate’s bed, sitting down on the edge and scooting so that his
back was now resting against the headboard. Taking a deep breath he spread his
legs, fingers wrapping around his own cock as he began to stroke it.
Arthur remained in his seat, though he turned to better watch the show.  “You
have two hands,” he said, as though Alfred weren’t aware of that fact.  “Use
the other one to stretch yourself.  Unless, of course, you want me to go in
dry.”
“Y-Yes,” Alfred said, lifting his legs more as he brought his fingers to his
lips, coating them in saliva before reaching down between his legs, shoving a
finger inside. He hissed at the initial pain, the alcohol helping him however
to relax around it.
“Good boy.  Now,” he continued, because Alfred wasn’t yet very interesting
unless he had some outside prompts.  “I want you to pretend that those are my
fingers, understand?”  He wasn’t sure that Alfred would even get it; knowing
him, if he weren’t under the threat of death, he would ask something silly,
like, ‘Why even have me imagine that if you’re right there?  Why not just do it
yourself?’
If Alfred had been completely sober he would have thought more before talking
but thanks to the alcohol his mind was a bit clouded. “Wh-Why?” he asked, still
clumsily moving his hands.
“Because I said so,” said Arthur, pulling his gun out of his pocket and aiming
it straight at Alfred’s stupid blonde head.  “I believe we went over this ages
ago; if I say you’re a dog, you bark.  If something I say doesn’t make sense to
you, you do it anyway.”  Honestly, some people were as stupid as a pile of
bricks.
Alfred flinched as the gun was brought out, unable to hold back a few tears
that fell down his cheeks. It was just an innocent question there was no need
for the pirate to overreact! “S-Sorry,” he whimpered, closing his eyes and
trying to do what he was told.
Arthur laughed at the reaction, and how quickly his toy had changed his tune.
 “I don’t ask for much.  Just your complete obedience to my every whim.”  He
put the gun back in its holster, and began taking off his clothes.
“Y-Yes,” Alfred said, opening his eyes as he heard the sound of clothes
shuffling, seeing that the pirate was undressing himself. He pushed a second
finger inside himself, hoping that Arthur would actually do a better job
preparing him.
“Yes, what?” demanded Arthur, tossing his shirt to the side to lean over
Alfred.  “You will address me as ‘sir,’ or ‘master’ when I fuck you.  Unless,
of course, you’d rather get affectionate.  I’m partial to ‘dear’ or ‘honey.’ ”
 He smirked, knowing full well that Alfred was still uncomfortable with the
idea of their sham of a union.
“Y-Yes sir,” Alfred whimpered, his hands stopping as the pirate got over him.
He closed his eyes, chewing his lower lip again as he withdrew his fingers and
waited for Arthur to do something.
“Did I tell you to take your fingers out?” snapped Arthur.  “Do you think you
know what I’m thinking?  Can you read minds?  Can you?”  He wasn’t sure why he
felt so angry.  Perhaps he shouldn’t have touched the alcohol, himself.  No
matter how much he tried to build up his tolerance, it seemed painfully low.
 Even if he wasn’t a slobbering drunk, just a little bit seriously impacted his
decision-making capacity.  “No?  Then put your God-damned fingers back in your
fucking ass, you bitch.”
Alfred was taken aback by Arthur’s sudden outburst, fresh tears running down
his face as he was yelled at. “I-I’m sorry sir,” he choked out, shoving two
fingers back inside of himself. It was just an honest mistake, he didn’t get
why Arthur was so mad.
God damn it, he didn’t want Alfred to cry, either.  Stupid alcohol.  Why did
something that felt so good have to make him lose his head?  If it weren’t for
all the stress he went through on a regular basis, he wouldn’t even drink the
stuff.  “There, there,” he said, giving Alfred a kiss on the forehead.  “Hush,
now. Just do as I say, and I won’t have to threaten or yell at you, okay?  I
don’t want to have to hurt you.  You have such a pretty face.”  He had pretty
teeth, too.  They’d make a fine necklace…
Alfred nodded, sniffling as he was kissed. It was oddly comforting but it
helped calm him down. It must be the alcohol making him so easily cry he
figured, really not knowing how such things were even supposed to affect him.
“Such lovely skin.  I can’t stand that ghastly pale that all those upper-class
men and women strive for.  It makes them look ill,” mused Arthur, cupping
Alfred’s face in his hands; despite the amount of time he’d spent below deck,
he’d still retained a decent tan.  Arthur made a mental note to get him back
out and about before he, too, had that sickly complexion.  “And what a handsome
face!  I can’t help but feel happy when I remember that it’s all mine.”  He
licked Alfred’s cheek, staying away from the lips that had so recently sucked
on his cock.
The compliments felt so out of place to Alfred, eyes slipping shut as the
pirate gently kissed and licked him. “Th-Thanks..” he said, his cock half-hard
in his hand that had again stopped stroking it, too distracted now by the
pirate.
“Keep stroking yourself,” said Arthur firmly, though he pulled away the hand
Alfred was using to finger himself to insert his own.  “You’re not very good at
putting on a show, yet, so I’ll let you off easy.  But I expect you to work
hard and learn how to please me.”  For as many mistakes as Alfred made, he
couldn’t bring himself to kill him.
Alfred gasped as the pirate suddenly penetrated him, moving his hand to stroke
his cock. Did the man want him practicing alone? He didn't want to but anything
was better than an angry Arthur. "S-sorry sir."
Arthur pushed two fingers in and out of Alfred’s hole; he’d done a decent job
stretching himself, but as expected, it was far from satisfactory.  The pirate
nipped at his nose and smiled down at him.  “Your belly is starting to swell up
already…” he teased.
Alfred immediately looked down, not noticing anything different. "I-It is?" He
asked, the alcohol had made him forget about that. Was it really bigger? He
never looked at his own stomach often so maybe it really was.
“Isn’t it wonderful?  You’ll be such a good mother,” said Arthur.  Alfred’s
neck, he decided, didn’t have nearly as many bite marks as he would have liked.
 On one hand, he didn’t want them to be too obvious, in case he had to take
Alfred out in public for some reason, but on the other, he couldn’t stand to
let it stay smooth.  With both of those things in mind, he decided to bite into
Alfred’s shoulder, which would be easy to hide under almost any article of
clothing.
Alfred hissed as he was suddenly bitten, sparks of pleasure shooting straight
down to his cock that his hand was still clumsily stroking. He kept quiet about
the mother remark, knowing there was nothing to do but wait and see if it was a
lie.
“Still, I can’t help but wonder if you’re responsible enough to take care of a
child,” said Arthur, dragging a finger up Alfred’s neck and stopping beneath
his chin.  “Perhaps I should just slit its throat and save you the trouble of
having to take care of it, instead?  I can do that, if you’d like, my darling.”
 Whether or not Alfred fully believed him, he wanted to see how he would react
to such a proposal.
"What? No!" Alfred practically shouted, averting his gaze from the pirate. As
much as he did not like the idea of being pregnant or having a child the last
thing he wanted was for Arthur to kill it.
“So you do want to be a mother, then?” said Arthur, not feeling at all bad
about trying to push Alfred into particular answers.  He was a pirate.  Pirates
didn’t play fair.  “That’s good.  I didn’t want to kill it, either, but I was
worried you might not be as excited as I am.”
Alfred kept quiet. He wasn't excited but he certainly couldn't let the man kill
their own child. If he was even pregnant that was. He really wasn't sure. He
instead let his eyes fall shut, moving his hand faster now on his cock.
Arthur pulled his fingers out, satisfied with his handiwork; the alcohol seemed
to have relaxed Alfred to the point where he wasn’t quite as tense as he
usually was, making it much easier to prepare him for the main event.  He
pressed the tip against Alfred’s hole, but didn’t yet enter; instead, he
teasingly prodded his entrance, staring down at his prey as though he were a
slab of meat.
Alfred squirmed a bit, wondering why Arthur was just sitting still. “Nngg.." he
whimpered, hand still on his cock. He was too scared to move it after what had
happened earlier.
Well, he obviously wasn’t going to do it without prompting.  “Beg for it,”
ordered Arthur.  Perhaps he had himself to blame.  He’d ordered Alfred not to
make assumptions about how to please him, and begging probably fell under that
category.  “I’ll never punish you for begging for me, you know… Unless you do
it in woefully inappropriate situations, of course.”
Alfred nodded, eyes tightly shut as he obeyed the other. "P-Please.." he
whimpered, really not wanting to say it. “Please ah, p-put yourself inside of
me," hopefully that would be good enough for the pirate.
“Of course.  Who could deny such a needy face?” said Arthur, gently sliding his
cock in.  It was quite refreshing, how easy it was to do compared to previous
attempts.  Although it was still obvious that Alfred wasn’t yet comfortable
with what they were doing, he was making so little progress that any change at
all gave him a surge of satisfaction.
Alfred grit his teeth together as he was penetrated, a few tears forming in his
eyes. Even with the alcohol it still hurt, his body stretching to accommodate
the pirate. His hand had stopped moving again, simply gripping his cock as he
tried to relax around the other.
“Easy, there, love.  Stay strong.  If you can’t even stretch this far, you’ll
never be able to deliver a child,” said Arthur, rubbing Alfred’s belly like one
would a dog.  He gave Alfred only a brief moment to adjust before he began to
thrust in and out of his young body, his muscles only slightly diminished from
the lack of hard labour throughout the past several weeks.  Although one needed
to be muscular for both farming and combat, depending on the particular
activity, it would build up different parts of the body.  He was eager to see
just what his body looked like when he was done sculpting it into a ruthless
killing machine.
Alfred’s eyes slipped shut as the pirate began to move, the friction painful
against his insides. He ignored the child comment, his mind muddled and hazy
with his eyes closed, feeling like he was spinning a bit. He was unable to hold
back his vocalizations though, grunts and gasps escaping his throat each time
Arthur moved.
“It figures.  No matter how much you say you hate it, you always end up
enjoying yourself in the end,” taunted Arthur.  One day, he was going to
convince Alfred to give in.  One day.  Unfortunately, Alfred was incredibly
stubborn.  On top of that, he came from a particularly hard-headed faith.
 Sometimes it felt like he was trying to train a brick wall.
Alfred knew it was true, no matter how hard he tried to hide it he always ended
up liking it in the end. It was so disgraceful, to be enjoying such things. He
reached up, covering his face with his arms as he got louder, whimpers turning
into moans.
Arthur didn’t wait much longer to speed up; Alfred was by no means a
professional-grade whore, but he wasn’t a virgin anymore, either.  It probably
didn’t help that he was a bit on the tipsy side.  “Don’t cover up your face.
 You have such lovely eyes… I want to see them begging for me.”  He batted
Alfred’s arms out of the way.
Even though Alfred’s arms were moved his eyes remained tightly shut, a few
tears slipping out of them as Arthur picked up the pace. It was painful but at
the same time his own cock was leaking precum, body squirming in pleasure.
“Open your eyes, Alfred.  Stop pretending you’re somewhere else, and look at
me!” he snapped, his temper once again getting the best of him thanks to the
alcohol.  Why did he have to be such a bloody lightweight?
Alfred did as told, not wanting to anger Arthur even more. The pirate seemed to
be so on edge when drunk Alfred could only hope the man wouldn’t lose control
and end up hurting him.
“There, was that so hard?” asked Arthur, stroking his cheek.  He dragged his
tongue along Alfred’s chest as he usually did, leaving a trail of saliva
behind; his skin tasted of sweat and grime, but the pirate captain hardly
minded.  Briefly, he tried to remember the last time he’d taken a bath; last
month?  The month before that?  Either way, he supposed the both of them were
due for one.  Maybe when they next pulled ashore, he’d give the men a chance to
get in the water.  And not just because he wanted to see Alfred all wet.
 Definitely not.
Alfred did his best to keep his eyes open, groaning as the pirate dragged his
tongue along his chest. His cock begged to be touched, his hand long ago having
moved from it. He knew Arthur said begging was allowed but he simply couldn’t
bring himself to do it, no matter how badly he wanted it.
Arthur, however, wasn’t about to touch it of his own volition, and shortly
after, he decided to pin Alfred’s wrists down on either side of his body,
denying him the ability to even do it himself.  There were times during which
he felt small twinges of what he was sure other people might classify as
‘guilt;’ right then was not one of those moments, however, and he sank his
teeth into Alfred’s throat, not really caring how painful or uncomfortable it
was for his toy.
Alfred screamed out as the other bit his throat, his eyes shutting again as he
swore he felt a bit of blood run out. “P-Please,” he whimpered, knowing that
wouldn’t be good enough for Arthur but he was too embarrassed to ask for it.
Arthur lifted his head up.  “Please, what?” he asked; not just because he was
trying to be an arse (for once) but because he actually wasn’t quite sure what
it was Alfred was asking for.  “Use complete sentences.”
“P-Please, touch me,” Alfred whimpered, his cock begging for attention. He
couldn’t tell if Arthur was teasing him or not, a few tears slipping down his
face.
“Hm, that?  Touch yourself, if you want it so much,” said Arthur simply,
releasing Alfred’s wrists to continue pounding into his much-abused hole,
relishing not only the physical pleasure, but the sheer joy of dominating
another human being.
Alfred wanted to cry at that, feeling so frustrated by everything. He didn’t
care anymore, reaching down and wrapping his fingers around his hard cock,
stroking it in time with Arthur’s thrusting.
“See, once you give in, it’s so easy,” purred Arthur, doing all that he could
to find new and interesting ways of tormenting Alfred with his hands and
tongue.  One minute he would be toying with his nipples, and the next he would
be sucking on his neck… In his opinion, missionary was getting a little old,
but he supposed he could continue humoring Alfred a little longer.  Really,
though, he preferred it when he had them on their knees.
Alfred felt so close, squirming as Arthur tormented him. He sped up his
stroking, hips jerking up as he came, spilling his seed over his own hand as
well as his stomach. "Ah..." he groaned, tiredness suddenly overtaking him.
Arthur was a bit disappointed by how short a time Alfred had lasted; then
again, he’d let him touch himself.  In hindsight, that might have been a bad
idea.  Not that he cared much if Alfred was enjoying himself while he finished
up; after all, it had been HIS decision to touch himself, in the end.  He took
his time, not so much as letting up on the rough treatment until he, too, was
finished.
 
 
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hey guys Bea here, I can't believe we haven't updated this fic in
     soooo long, especially when we have a few chapters already done u.u
     I'll try and update it more frequently.
     Anyways this chapter involves Francis and some more fun times. Enjoy~
It wasn’t a beautiful day, but Arthur wasn’t going to complain about it being
overcast so long as fortune contended to keep it from turning to rain. The
docks in the south were fewer and further apart than those up north, but it
still wasn’t as unpleasant and lengthy as sailing between continents, as far as
his men were concerned.
Arthur placed the folded pile of clothes upon the table for Alfred with great
reluctance. “Now, I know I’ve already gone over this with you, but coming
ashore with me is a privilege, not a right, understand? Just because you have
to wear men’s clothing in public doesn’t mean you’re in any way my equal. And
if you even THINK about running, not only will it be twenty lashes, but I’ll
never let you off the boat again. Is that understood?”
Alfred nodded, looking down at the pile of clothes. There was no way he was
going to run, not after his last unsuccessful escape attempt. He just wanted
off of the ship, maybe even a bath. "Thank you," he said, picking up the
clothes and beginning to dress. It felt so nice to be in men's clothes again it
almost made him smile.
Almost. He was still a captive on a pirate ship after all.
“There’s a good lad,” said Arthur, ruffling his hair. “Now, remember, if anyone
asks, I’m your last living relative.” It was the only way he could really
explain why he didn’t want Alfred far from his side. If he were just an
ordinary sailor, he wouldn’t be keeping such a watchful eye on him. “Not that
anyone should ask, but it’s better safe than sorry. Have you worn this sort of
clothing before?” He knew Alfred had probably had some decent clothes for
church, but he wasn’t sure if he was used to tights or high heels; as much as
he hated seeing him in such masculine attire, he knew there was no other
option.
"Not really," Alfred said, getting the clothes on however with little problem.
"Um, what are we gonna do on shore?" Probably just some business Arthur had to
take care of he figured. Even so just getting off of the ship would feel great.
“I don’t care for it, myself, but sixty percent of the crew simply refuses to
go on without tobacco. It’s much easier to get down here, especially if we can
barter off some eastern wares to the southern gentry,” answered Arthur, not
knowing how much of that Alfred understood. Even though he technically lived in
much closer proximity to the people of the south and midwest colonies, his
village was incredibly isolated. “It should only take a few hours, but I figure
you need to stretch your legs. I don’t want you getting fat.”
Alfred looked down at his stomach as he heard that, wondering if he really was
getting fat. He honestly had no clue what Arthur was talking about, just what
tobacco was and even then he'd never had any. "Thanks," he muttered again,
rather grateful he was getting off the ship.
“Okay, there’s submitting to your superiors, and there’s groveling. Come
along,” said Arthur, fixing up Alfred’s shirt. From the sound of it, the men
had finished tying the ship to the dock, and the anchor had been set. All that
remained was to clear customs and stock up on the most expensive inedible
leaves to ever exist.
Alfred silently nodded, standing still to let Arthur fix his clothes. He was
just trying to show appreciation but it seemed no matter what he did it wasn't
good enough.
“I’m only joking, you know. No need to look so down,” said Arthur. He knew it
was probably unwanted, but he reached up to pull Alfred down for a kiss on the
cheek. Because like hell was he going to stand on his toes. “Keep up the good
work, and I might get you something in port. Maybe something sweet, like an
apple pie. Does that sound good to you, darling?”
Alfred nodded, the apple pie sounding absolutely wonderful, especially after
all of the hardtack he’d been eating lately. He could be good if it meant that
reward, it wasn’t like he would run away anyways.
“I thought it might,” said Arthur, smiling warmly, at least in comparison to
previous ones. He opened the door to the captain’s quarters and strolled out
onto the deck, unable to help but get the feeling that something was going to
go horribly wrong. Days didn’t just go by smoothly, for him. The moment he let
his guard down, there would be some sort of road bump; someone not showing up
when he did roll call, an attempted mutiny, someone in port recognizing him for
what he truly was… Still, he’d handled all of those things in the past. Nothing
could possibly shock him. Not one-
He stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing the ship across the dock, and
immediately ducked out of its line of sight, yanking Alfred along with him.
Alfred had to wonder why Arthur was suddenly moving faster, pulling him along.
He didn’t dare ask though, not wanting to upset the other. It felt so nice to
be on dry land again, Alfred breathing in the salty air. Still, Arthur was
acting a bit strange ever since they got off the ship, had something happened?
“Fucking hell…” breathed Arthur. It was unlikely that any of his men would be
recognized, but if that man saw him, he would immediately know who he was. What
were the odds that they would be in the exact same port at the exact same time?
It didn’t seem possible, and yet there it was. “Alfred, quickly, look around.
Do you see a man with wavy blonde hair and a stubbly face?”
Alfred was rather confused, turning his head and scanning the crowd for the man
Arthur described. "No, why?" He asked. Was it someone Arthur knew? A rival or
maybe someone trying to catch him?
“...No reason,” murmured Arthur. He supposed he could tell the truth, but he
didn’t really want to admit that the reason he was hiding like a little girl
was because he really didn’t want to see that man ever again. Heck, it wasn’t
even as though he were DEFINITELY there. A lot of ships looked the same! So
what if it was the same type of vessel? That didn’t mean anything! “I just
thought I saw something, that’s all.” The odds of it being that ship were far
too low. He was just being paranoid.
Alfred didn't quite believe Arthur but he didn't press any further, simply
following the man. "So um, what are we gonna do first?" He asked, trying to
forget about Arthur's weird behavior and just enjoy being on shore.
“First, we have to get to the customs office and inform them of our presence.
I’m connected well-enough that we can avoid most of the taxes, so you just
stand quietly while I negotiate,” he said, continuing down the dock and trying
not to appear wary. Wary meant suspicious.
Alfred nodded, following Arthur closely. He could stay quiet no problem,
although it really did sound rather boring. "And after?"
“And after, the men will take care of business while we get some apple pie,”
answered Arthur, doing his best to resist kissing Alfred on the nose. It would
be the death of him if he was caught displaying such deviant behaviors in
public. Both literally and figuratively. “Perhaps we can take a proper bath,
too. Or at least rinse off in some saltwater…”
"A bath sounds nice," Alfred said, sighing as he thought of that. He felt so
awfully sticky and dirty from being on the ship for so long. He knew he
couldn't smell that good either.
Arthur smirked a little at the sight of the city on the horizon. “Ever been in
a city, lad?” He wasn’t sure if Alfred was quite prepared for what awaited them
at the end of the dock. The smell alone had made many of his men from smaller
towns and villages throw up over the side of the dock. Luckily, it was a
somewhat smaller city than most, but he wondered how long it would be before
Alfred begged him to duck indoors.
"Once," Alfred said, remembering when he was young going with his dad to a
city. He barely remembered it though. "What is that smell?" He asked, thinking
it smelt like the farm back home. "Is there a farm nearby?"
“No, just the city. I suppose it shouldn’t bother you as much, since you’re
probably used to the smell of manure,” noted Arthur dryly. He himself hated it,
having gotten used to the smell of the fresh, ocean air. At long last, they
reached the customs house, and he held the door open for Alfred like a lady
would for a gentleman. “Ladies first,” he teased, and those around him merely
snickered, registering it as a joke.
Alfred pouted at that, walking in and crossing his arms. He didn't appreciate
being laughed at but kept his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was to mess
this all up and get those twenty lashes Arthur had threatened.
Arthur followed after Alfred, only to stop. The building was crowded to the
point where neither of them could get much further than a few feet in. So much
so that a man walked up to them and spoke:
“Excuse me, sir, but because of the number of people we have to process today,
we’re asking that only one representative from each ship enter at a time. One
of you is going to have to leave.”
That was inconvenient. Arthur exhaled, then turned to Alfred, sizing him up and
wondering just how much he could trust him; he really didn’t want to lose his
place in line. On the other hand… “Alfred. Do you think you can head back to
the ship on your own? I promise I’ll come back and fetch you once my work here
is done.” He was looking up at Alfred with a hardened stare, silently
threatening him harm if he took advantage of his brief freedom. He was good at
tracking people down, and he WOULD find Alfred, wherever he ran.
Alfred nodded, knowing that running away would be absolutely pointless. "Yeah,
I'll head right back," he said, looking into Arthur's eyes. He wasn't lying, he
knew escape was impossible and he just wanted to enjoy his day out.
“Good lad. Feel free to walk around a bit, if you’d like. They might want some
assistance lugging crates around. If anyone acts up, tell them I’ll string them
up by their toes,” said Arthur, watching Alfred as he went. He couldn’t shake
the feeling in the pit of his stomach that it was a terrible, terrible idea.
Sure, he could catch him… But what if something else happened? What if… No,
that was ridiculous.
"Alright," Alfred said, forcing a smile for Arthur before heading out. At least
the man would still take him out he thought, walking along the dock and towards
the ship. Arthur was acting rather strange though he couldn't help but wonder
what was wrong.
As soon as Alfred was a decent distance away from the building, however, a
stranger walked up to him.
“Ah, how are you today?” asked the man, who had wavy, neck-length blonde hair,
and just enough stubble on his chin to look dignified without appearing old.
Alfred looked at the man. He had an accent, French? He couldn't tell. The man
appeared to be Arthur's height as well although he looked older. "Um, I'm
fine," he said, "but I need to go."
“Actually, I was hoping you could help me with something, if you don’t mind me
asking,” said the stranger, smiling kindly and adjusting his fashion-forward
attire. There was nothing about him that seemed particularly suspicious. “I’ve
asked some of the others, but alas, they rudely turn away the moment they hear
my accent!” He pressed his fingers to his forehead, looking genuinely
distressed. “Please, I beg of you. It will only be a moment of your time!”
Alfred really wasn't sure about it but the man seemed rather desperate. "Well,
okay sure. But I do need to head back soon." He said, hoping Arthur wouldn't
find out about this. He'd definitely head back to ship after this.
“Oh, thank you so much! It’s good to know that Britain has such fine young
men!” said the stranger, looking positively delighted. “Please, follow me. I
apologize for taking up your time. I don’t usually like to ask things of
complete strangers, but I’m in a bit of a mess…” He began leading Alfred down
one of the docks; not the one Arthur’s ship was tied to, but the one right
beside it.
Alfred was about to say he was from the colonies but kept quiet, nervously
following the Frenchman. "What's wrong?" He asked, looking around for any signs
of Arthur.
“Well, if you’d just come onto the ship, it’s rather, ah, self-explanatory,”
murmured Francis, as though he were embarrassed. “Again, I do apologize. I’m
certain you have places to be, and things to do. But I just can’t get anyone
else to assist me…”
Alfred really had a bad feeling about this. "Do I need to board the ship?" He
asked, taking a deep breath. He could run, but part of him was scared said man
would pull a pistol out if he did. It would be best to just help him and hurry
back.
“It’ll only be a moment, I promise!” the stranger assured him, leading him up
the ramp to his vessel; the very same one that Arthur had looked at with such
wariness only ten minutes prior. “It’s fine if you can’t, though. I’m sure
I’ll… Find someone else… Hopefully.” He had a depressed look on his face.
"What do you need?" Alfred asked, slowly following the man. Alfred hadn't
noticed how Arthur had looked at the ship earlier but he still felt uneasy. "I
really gotta get back soon."
The moment they got on the ship, someone grabbed Alfred from behind.
“You know,” said the stranger, brushing his hair from his face. “I was
wondering how Arthur managed to catch you, and now I understand. You’re
terribly gullible. No offense.”
Arthur? How did this man know Arthur? Alfred tried to struggle free from the
stranger holding him, fear rising up inside him as he began to realize what was
happening, that he was being kidnapped.
“Well, our business has been concluded here,” said Francis with a shrug. He
switched languages, leaving Alfred unable to understand him. “Raise the anchor!
We’re leaving!” He turned to one of the men. “Did you leave the note?”
“Oui, we left it with the customs official to give to Arthur when he gets to
the front of the line.”
“Splendid.”
Francis turned back to Alfred, and switched back to English. “So, tell me, how
is my darling Arthur these days? Is he well?”
Was this that Francis that Arthur had told him about? The man was French, and
did just kidnap him after all. “L-Let me go!” he screamed, still putting up a
struggle. He hated to even think it but he just wanted to get off this man’s
ship and back to Arthur’s.
Francis took Alfred’s face in his hands, and forced his mouth open, gazing into
it as though he were inspecting a horse. “Hmm, no gum disease. That’s good. I’d
rather have live bait,” he mused. “Such a feisty little thing, though, aren’t
you? Hasn’t he bothered to train you?”
“Shut up!” Alfred shouted, holding in the tears that threatened to fall. This
man was so arrogant, just like Arthur. “Let me go! I’m sure Arthur will come
and get me if you don’t.” he continued to struggle, not going to give in so
easily.
Francis laughed, as though Alfred had just told him the funniest joke he’d ever
heard. “Arthur? How terrifying! You are aware that I was the one to train
Arthur, are you not? Or perhaps he hasn’t told you of me. My name is Francis
Bonnefoy.”
“He’s told me all about you,” Alfred said, a disgusted look on his face as he
glared at Francis. The man seemed so...sleazy, even worse than Arthur. “What
the hell do you want with me anyways?
A pair of handcuffs were clicked around Alfred’s wrists, holding them behind
his back even as the man let him go; Francis grabbed him by the collar of his
shirt to make sure he didn’t run. “I was so surprised to see that ship pull
into port! More so when I spotted Arthur onboard giving orders. I had to duck
out of the way so he couldn’t see me, of course, or he might have tried to
confront me.” The ship began to move. “Your position on the ship was obvious
from the way he treated you. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to use you to get
him back. Technically, you’re worthless to him, but his pride just won’t allow
him to let me take you without a fight.”
Alfred could feel the ship move, getting more and more worried about how he’d
be saved. Francis seemed confident though that the man would find them. “Take
him back?” Alfred asked, chewing on his lower lip. Did this mean Francis
wouldn’t hurt him? Although really he doubted that.
“Of course!” said Francis, clasping his hands together and closing his eyes, as
though he were thinking about something romantic. “My little kitten! I thought
him lost forever, but to think that fate would bring him back to me!” One of
the men quickly grabbed Alfred by the arm so he couldn’t get away after he’d
been released by the captain. “He, too, was a feisty one. Just when I thought
I’d broken him, he staged a terrible mutiny, and ran off with about a third of
my crew!” Francis took Alfred’s arm, allowing the other man to get back to
work, and started pulling him towards the door to the captain’s quarters. “I’ll
have to punish him, of course, and I’ll start by ravaging his little pet. Pets
can’t have pets, after all.”
Alfred should have known this was coming, after all Arthur had said Francis was
even worse than him. “Y-You don’t need to do that!” he screamed, struggling in
Francis’s grip. He couldn’t believe he had been so gullible, letting himself be
kidnapped so easily again.
A long, skinny rapier was at Alfred’s throat in a second. “Fight back, and I’ll
cut your throat open. I don’t need live bait. I merely prefer it. You’re just
as good to me dead as you are alive.” He shoved Alfred through the door, and
slammed it behind the both of them. “I trust you know how to remove your
clothes.”
“I’m handcuffed,” Alfred said, huffing as he glared at the Frenchman. He just
wanted to get off this ship and return to Arthur. He didn’t trust Francis, the
man was way worse than Arthur already.
“What, he hasn’t taught you how to remove your clothes with your teeth yet?
That was one of the first lessons I taught him!” sighed Francis. Caring little
for its worth, he sliced his blade straight through Alfred’s clothing, over and
over again, until all his shirts both over and under had been removed from his
body. From there, he began pulling down the trousers around Alfred’s waist.
Alfred did his best to stay still, not wanting to be cut by the blade. “You’re
disgusting,” he spat, shivering in the cool air as he was stripped. Tears began
to run down his cheeks by now, wondering how long it would take Arthur to find
him.
“No more disgusting than Arthur, certainly. Unless you’ve already begun to fall
for him,” said Francis, not at all appreciative of such harsh words. He stood
up straight, only then noticing that Alfred was a little taller than him.
Funny. Not that he cared, but he knew that, by extension, he was probably
taller than Arthur, too. Apparently he’d gotten over the height insecurities
he’d once had when he was younger. He wondered if Arthur still had hair
insecurities, too… “Now, since you’re saying such nasty things, perhaps your
tongue can be sweetened with a kiss.” He pressed his lips to Alfred’s, and
pushed his tongue up against them.
Alfred was flat out disgusted by the kiss, not even thinking as he bit down
against the intruder’s tongue, not harsh enough to draw blood but definitely
enough to make it painful. It was disgusting enough when Arthur kissed him,
Francis was even worse.
Francis immediately pulled his head away, his otherwise handsome-enough face
contorted with rage. “How dare you? I ought to skewer you where you stand!” He
touched his fingers to his lip with one hand, and drew his sword in the other.
“Get on your knees, and die with dignity!”
Alfred immediately regretted what he did, taking a step back as he stared at
the sword. He didn’t want to die, he had fought for so long already to stay
alive. “I-I’m sorry, please,” he whimpered, getting down on his knees like he
was told.
Francis drew his arm back, as though he were about to strike. He held that pose
for one long moment, then burst into laughter and lowered his sword. “You’re
just as amusing as he was! You know, I was just going to kill you once I got
Arthur back, but I think I might keep you both.” Already, he couldn’t help but
start to fantasize; he’d put one of them on top of the other, bent over the
bed, and fuck them in turns. “You’ll have to convince me you’re worth keeping,
though.” He couldn’t just let Alfred get off without any punishment, of course.
He grabbed him by the hair, yanked him upwards, and gave him a solid punch to
the gut.
Alfred screamed as he was punched, his mind immediately thinking to what Arthur
had been saying for so long now. That he was pregnant. “S-Stop, you’ll kill
it!” he screamed, feeling as if he was going to throw up.
Francis let him drop to the ground, terribly confused. Not by the ‘stop’ part,
oh no. It was what came after that. “Kill what? You? Don’t tell me Arthur’s
filled your head with tales of the thousands of tiny organisms in your stomach
that help you digest food.” Much as he loved his little kitten, he was
completely insane; all those tales of his fairy friends, and the things they
told him about the world.
“A-Arthur told me I was pregnant,” Alfred said, clutching his stomach. He hoped
Francis wouldn’t think that was stupid, after all even he was still unsure
about the whole pregnancy thing. “S-So don’t hit me there.”
Hoping Francis didn’t think he was stupid wasn’t going to stop Francis from
thinking he was stupid. The statement was enough to get the Frenchman laughing
so hard that he almost dropped his sword. This one was definitely a keeper. “P-
pregnant?” he repeated, trying to catch his breath. “Men can’t get pregnant!”
“S-So Arthur was lying to me?” Alfred asked, feeling rather stupid. He hated
being laughed at, wishing he would have kept his mouth shut about it. It was a
relief though to know it wasn’t true.
“Yes, you imbecile! I can’t believe you believed him for even a moment!”
cackled Francis, clutching his stomach; his sides were beginning to hurt. At
long last, though, he managed to get himself under control. “It’s no wonder
you’re still with him. You’re dumber than a stump.” He flicked the sword across
Alfred’s cheek, giving him a light scrape without actually drawing blood.
“Still, credit where it’s due, at least he picked someone with a good body. Now
open your mouth. If you try to bite me at any point, I really will kill you.”
He undid his trousers. He wasn’t going to receive oral just yet, though, oh no…
Tears ran down Alfred’s cheeks as he was insulted, sinking down to his knees.
He assumed the man wanted him to suck him off after all. “I-It’s not my fault.
I’m from a small Puritain village,” he had never been taught much about such
things. He did feel rather stupid though, the Frenchman’s laughter not helping
matters.
“Even then, you should know better than to think men can get pregnant!” laughed
Francis. “Where did you expect the baby to come out?” Ah, well, he could taunt
Alfred later. Right then, though, he wanted to piss him off. And what better
way to do that than to piss on him? Before Alfred could close his mouth, a
stream of urine splashed up against his face.
Alfred screamed as he was suddenly hit in the face with piss, shutting his eyes
as it ran down his face. It was disgusting but he dared not move, knowing the
man wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if he messed up.
Alfred was lucky that Francis had just gone not too long ago, and there wasn’t
much left in his bladder. As appealing a look as it was, he wasn’t about to
lick someone covered in urine, so Francis dumped a cloth over Alfred’s head and
began to dry him off. “Such a baby. Don’t tell me you weren’t expecting that.”
At least he hadn’t started sobbing. “Arthur cried when I did that to him, you
know. Of course, he was barely thirteen…”
"You're disgusting," Alfred snapped, letting the man dry him off. It made him
wonder if he would turn out like Arthur as well. He felt like throwing up, the
smell of urine heavy in his nose. God he hoped Arthur would save him, as
terrible as the pirate was he hated Francis even more.
“Now, now, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that even a little bit,” said
Francis, tossing the towel aside. He knew better than to keep a lot of finery
in his quarters; much as he loved finery, he kept that to his vacation home
back in France. Too many men and women came to his room for him to risk putting
anything expensive in there. “To think, I had so wanted to be nice. But you’ve
been so unkind!” He pushed Alfred down to the hardwood floor with his foot,
pinning him on his back beneath his boot. “Much as I hate to soil the unwed,
I’m afraid I can’t just let Arthur go on thinking you’re his, now, can I?”
Alfred grunted as he was pushed down, a sob escaping his throat. He was so
frightened, trembling as the other spoke. Why did he have to be so gullible? He
should have just went straight back to Arthur's ship like he was told.
Francis whipped his blade across Alfred’s neck, again just enough to leave a
scratch. “Don’t worry. I’ve been swinging swords since I was barely a boy.
You’ve nothing to fear if you hold still.” He repeated the action with Alfred’s
arms, as if daring him to struggle. “So does Arthur let you take him? Or are
you strictly a bottom?” He brought the sword down to Alfred’s cock, giving it a
gentle, threatening poke.
Alfred yelped as he was scratched by the sword, flinching each time Francis
swung it. "N-No he doesn't let me," he whimpered, shivering as the cold blade
touched his cock.
“Such a shame,” mused an unsurprised Francis. “You should see him when he begs!
Always an angry look on his face, a permanent scowl even in the deepest throes
of pleasure!” He dragged the blade gently across Alfred’s length. Needless to
say, the younger captive was extremely lucky that he hadn’t had it sharpened in
the past few months. “Now, how will you beg, I wonder?” His own cock was still
out, and he held it in the hand that wasn’t on the handle of his rapier. He
pressed the tip of his boot to Alfred’s lips. “Kiss it, won’t you?”
Alfred had a hard time imagining Arthur begging and submitting to anyone,
whimpering as his cock hardened. He shut his eyes as Francis's boot pressed at
his lips, puckering them and giving a light kiss to the toe.
“Good boy. You know your place,” said Francis, finally sheathing the sword. He
pulled his boot back and rubbed it against Alfred’s length. “Where should I
have you upon his arrival, I wonder? I think I’ll tie you up with a metal rod
penetrating you. Doesn’t that sound lovely?” He pulled a thin, wiry device out
of his pocket. Somehow, he doubted that Alfred had ever had his urethra
invaded.
Alfred whimpered again, opening his eyes and seeing Francis pull out a small
rod. "Wh-what is that?" He asked, almost too scared to hear the answer. He
wondered if Arthur could really rescue him or would they both end up slaves to
this man?
“This? This is none other than a device to penetrate that which can’t be filled
by a cock,” answered Francis. He finally lifted his foot off of Alfred, and
motioned for him to get to his feet. It would be a tricky task with his wrists
chained together, for sure, but not an impossible one. “If you’ll kindly lay
down on the bed for me, we can begin.”
Alfred had no idea what the other was talking about, getting on his knees and
unsteadily standing himself up. He moved back to the bed, lying down on it.
"What do you mean?" He asked, lower lip trembling as he held in his sobs.
Francis took Alfred’s cock in hand, and stroked it to its full hardness. “I
mean this hole, dearest- oh, I don’t believe I got your name!” he realized, a
smile on his face. “How thoughtless of me!” He pressed the tip to Alfred’s
slit. “What are you called?”
Alfred gasped as he realized what Francis was doing. "A-Alfred and y-you can't
put that there," he whimpered, scared the other would end up hurting him.
“Alfred?” he repeated. Such an ugly name, as far as he was concerned. Of
course, he wasn’t very fond of English names in general. “How cute! Worry not,
dearest Alfred, I’m well-practiced. I used to do this to Arthur all the time!”
He spoke as though he were talking about doing something innocent with a child
of his, rather than violating them in every possible orifice.
Alfred was breathing heavily, eyes on the small rod places at his urethra. "B-
But..." he whimpered, a sob cutting himself off. He was frightened that this
would permanently injure him, trying to be as still as possible.
“Hush. It’s easier if you’re relaxed,” advised Francis, slipping the rod into
Alfred’s hole. It was thin enough that getting it in isn’t an impossible task,
but it was quite clearly Alfred’s first time having anything non-liquid go
through there. “See? You’re doing good so far!”
Alfred hissed in pain, the cool rod slipping into his cock. It felt so strange,
like he had to piss but couldn't. "P-Please.." he whimpered, staying as still
as possible.
“Ssssh, Arthur didn’t whimper nearly as much as you are,” said Francis. No,
Arthur had been much more prone to swearing and screaming at him, which of
course only meant that the activity would last longer. Such a foul mouth on
that one once he was behind closed doors; all those claims of being a gentleman
went straight out the window.
Alfred didn't care what Arthur did, if anything he would just prefer Francis to
be quiet. The rod felt so strange, Alfred worried he'd end up pissing himself
when it was taken out. "Y-You're disgusting," he snapped, wishing he could
cover his face.
“Now that sounds more like my little kitten,” said Francis, already feeling
nostalgic. How many years had it been? Too many, that was for sure. He’d had
many partners, but Arthur had always been one of his favorites, even if every
food item he touched turned to stone. Francis was a good enough chef for the
both of them, though, unfortunately, it was considered unbecoming of a captain
to partake in such endeavors. He pushed the rod further in. “I highly recommend
that you remain still and don’t struggle. This requires a steady hand.”
Alfred was doing his best to stay still, barely even breathing in fear that
Francis would end up scratching him. “Ah, p-please, get it out,” he cried,
already hating Francis way more than Arthur. At least Arthur had never done
this to him.
“If you keep whining, I’ll give you a piercing here,” teased Francis, noticing
the earring Alfred was wearing. So Arthur had learned from him, after all.
“Just like I’ll have to do to punish Arthur when I get him back.” He was a bit
offended by Alfred’s obvious lack of confidence in his abilities. It wasn’t as
though he were some amateur. He’d only ever punctured someone’s bladder once,
and that was because it had been intentional.
Alfred’s eyes opened wide in shock at hearing that, wondering if it was even
possible to pierce one’s cock. He wondered how long it would take Arthur to
find him, after all escape was now impossible since Francis’s ship had already
taken off to sea.
Francis gently thrust the thin rod in and out of Alfred’s cock, pleased by his
silence. Just about everyone could be controlled by fear, and those that
couldn’t were useless, and better off dead. He wasn’t about to hold it against
Alfred that he was so easily frightened. After all, piracy was not an honorable
profession, and Francis himself was not ashamed to admit that he’d turned tail
to run when the going got rough. There was no point in dying just so people
wouldn’t see you as a coward, especially not when you were already viewed as a
criminal in the first place.
Alfred couldn’t help but groan as the rod was thrusted in his cock, the feeling
of needing to piss driving him insane. It felt so strange, the pain was
practically gone now but Alfred wasn’t sure what he was feeling, a small bit of
pleasure rising in him as he got more and more used to the rod in his cock.
Francis chuckled and pressed his lips against Alfred’s. He was a shameless
pervert, that much was certain, but that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate more
traditional displays of intimacy just as much. “I admit, my little kitten knows
how to pick them! You’ll be a lovely addition to my pets.” Arthur may have been
the favorite, but that didn’t mean he was the only one. There were three more
sitting in the brig. He was certain that Alfred would get along with them just
fine. Arthur, of course, would sleep with him, when the time came. Chained up,
of course, but beside him nonetheless.
Alfred didn’t kiss back, simply lying still as the other pressed his lips to
his own. He wished Francis would just shut up, tired of hearing the man’s
voice. “P-Pets?” Alfred asked, wondering if this meant that Francis had more
than one slave.
“Of course! What, is Arthur only keeping you?” said Francis, grinning
lecherously. He licked Alfred’s lips, seeing as his tongue obviously wasn’t
going to be permitted entry, and rubbed his dripping erection against Alfred’s
hole. “Perhaps he isn’t as ambitious as I thought.” Of course, he allowed his
whole crew access to his harem. He supposed it was different if Arthur was
keeping Alfred to himself. In a single movement, he pulled the rod from
Alfred’s cock. “I certainly hope you’re experienced. Still, if not, I suppose
you’ll get plenty in time. How long ago did he catch you?”
Alfred screamed as the rod was suddenly yanked out, not expecting the sudden
movement. He really had no idea how long it had been since Arthur had kidnapped
him, days seemed to just run together for him. “I-I dunno,” he whimpered,
wondering just how long it had been.
Francis sighed. Obviously it had been longer than a few days, but… “Less than a
year?” It typically took him about one or two months to break someone, and
another six before they were fully trained. Arthur had a bit more of a temper
on him, and hadn’t adjusted well to his subservience. With the temper he’d
acquired after being taken onboard, Francis wasn’t quite certain he’d have the
patience for such things. It was best to assume that Alfred was completely
untrained. “Well, either way, I’m going to start you from the beginning.”
“P-Probably,” Alfred muttered, shutting his eyes and turning his head to the
side. What did Francis mean by the beginning? To re-train him all over again?
“A-Arthur will come rescue me, just wait,” he snapped, a few fresh tears
running down his face.
Still defiant. Or perhaps he was well-trained, and he was just loyal. After
all, he had been wandering off on his own. It took a lot of trust to let a
captive roam alone on shore. Either that, or a lot of fear. Francis reached
into his pocket, and pulled out a knife, which he held to Alfred’s throat.
“Poor thing. You’re not very good at holding your tongue when the situation
calls for it, are you?”
Alfred gasped as he felt the cold blade against his neck, knowing that he
really did need to learn when to shut up. “S-Sorry,” he whimpered, not daring
to move. Francis really was a lot like Arthur and it made Alfred wonder if he
would eventually turn out like the two of them.
“That was hardly an apology,” said Francis, underwhelmed. He slashed the blade
across Alfred’s chest, leaving a light cut with minimal bleeding. “I expect you
to grovel in the wake of your mistakes.” He had no doubt that Arthur would have
accepted the apology. As cold-hearted as he was, his expectations weren’t
nearly as high as they should have been.
Alfred screamed again as he was cut, blood seeping out of the shallow wound.
"I-I'm sorry," he sobbed, scared that Francis really would kill him. After all
the man made it clear he was just after Arthur, using him as bait.
Francis pressed the knife into Alfred’s shoulder; unlike the rapier, the blade
in his hand had been sharpened less than a week ago, and it sank into his flesh
with ease. “Beg for forgiveness.” His voice didn’t sound cruel, even though the
words themselves were. He preferred to let his actions speak over his tone of
voice. The bloodied blade was pulled out again, and threateningly hung over
Alfred’s right eye.
Again a stinging pain went through Alfred's body as the blade left a shallow
cut. He shut his eyes tightly as the knife was moved to his face. "P-Please
forgive me, I'm sorry," he cried out, frightened the other would take his eye
out.
Although Francis pulled the blade away from his eye, he moved it down to one of
his nipples, and pressed it gently into the sensitive nub. It didn’t draw
blood, but it could with just a little more pressure. “What do you intend to do
to make it up to me, then?”
"Wh-Whatever you want," Alfred whimpered, voice quiet as the cool blade pressed
into such a sensitive place. "I-I'll be good," at least until Arthur showed up.
“Whatever I want, hm?” mused Francis. Unbeknownst to him, it was Alfred’s
second time making that mistake. “Why don’t you tell me how much you love me?”
Also unbeknownst to him, Arthur had picked up a lot more from him than he’d
thought.
Francis really was a lot like Arthur Alfred thought to himself, knowing there
was no other choice. "I-I really love you, I'm glad you kidnapped me from
Arthur," he said in a low voice, sniffling a bit.
“As you should be. Arthur is hardly a worthy owner,” said Francis, finally
putting the knife away. “Now that that’s done and over with, I believe it’s
time for a little loving, wouldn’t you agree, my lovely kitten-bait?” He
reached behind Alfred to remove the handcuffs, set them and the key aside, and
sat back expectantly. “Go on, put on a show for me. I want you to stretch
yourself.”
It was like Arthur was a younger, angrier Francis Alfred swore, spreading his
legs as he reached up to suck on a few fingers. Begging was pointless he knew,
making sure his fingers were nice and slick before reaching down and shoving
one inside himself.
Francis looked unimpressed. “Is that all?” Compared to all his other pets,
Alfred went about things very mechanically, as though it were more a necessity
than a show. “Push them in and out slowly, and spread them a little. Try to
keep your hand in a position that gives me a better view.” It was like all
Arthur did was hold him down and fuck him. He doubted that Alfred had ever even
done a strip-tease before.
Alfred frowned at all those instructions, pushing a second finger inside. He
lifted his legs a bit more, trying to give Francis a better view as he spread
his two fingers apart, slowly beginning to thrust them.
“Better, but you still look bored,” said Francis; as far as he was concerned,
he was merely providing constructive criticism, the likes of which Alfred had
obviously never had before. “Try making some faces, as though you’re enjoying
it even more than you are. Like this!” As an example, Francis opened his mouth
in a sort of gasp, and rolled his eyes upwards. “You can try panting a little,
too.”
Alfred would have laughed at Francis' demonstration if he weren't in his
current situation. He pushed his fingers in more, forcing out a light moan.
Knowing Francis it still wouldn't be good enough, the man probably saying it
sounded too fake.
Francis looked at him with critical eyes, rather than aroused ones. “Well, it’s
a worthy effort, at least. Keep at it for a little longer. Try to pretend that
it’s someone else’s fingers, if it helps.” Alfred’s acting skills would
definitely need some work. Then again, he was already further along in his
training than Arthur and his permanent scowl had ever gotten.
Alfred kept his eyes shut, letting out more moans as he thrusted his fingers.
He tried pretending they were Arthur's fingers but it didn't do much, he still
overall felt nervous and scared, barely getting himself aroused.
At long last, Francis gave up. It was time to get to the main event. He could
watch a good performer for several minutes more, but Alfred was still a bit
below average in that department. There would always be time for practice
later, though. “Okay, that’s good enough, I think! Now, I want you to ride me.”
Surely he’d done that before, at least.
Alfred pulled his fingers out, sitting up as he heard that. He had never done
it before except during the time Arthur had ordered his crew to take him.
Francis pushed Alfred out of the way so that it was him laying down, and
motioned for his live bait to crawl on top of him. He took a moment to remove
his shirt, fully exposing the hair and muscles of his chest. His cock stood
erect, waiting for Alfred to have a seat.
Alfred chewed his lower lip nervously, moving up so that he was straddling
Francis. Carefully he grasped the man’s cock with one hand as he lowered his
ass down, penetrating himself, groaning in pain as he slowly sank all the way
down.
Francis sighed. Alfred really wasn’t good at being sexy. He had the body, but
he lacked the experience. “You look like you’re in pain! Look a little happier.
Think to yourself, ‘I’m excited for this!’ ” In order to give Alfred some
motivation, he reached down and grabbed his revolver, which he aimed right at
the captive’s face. Unloaded, of course, seeing as he didn’t want to
accidentally squeeze the trigger upon orgasm, but Alfred didn’t have to know
that. “If you can’t express it on your face, then express it in words!”
Alfred gasped as the gun was pointed at him, bottom lip starting to tremble. He
didn’t know what to say and knowing him whatever he would say wouldn’t be good
enough for this pirate. “I-It feels good,” He whimpered, knowing it was nowhere
near convincing.
Francis rolled his eyes. “Pitiful. Fine, then, go ahead and touch yourself.
Just make better faces.” There was a reason he usually stayed away from ultra
conservative areas like the one that Alfred had come from. That, and he liked
to have a diverse harem; he already had a British pet. Sure, the colonies were
a good distance away from the mainland, but it was still the same country, with
people of the same race and language.
Alfred nodded, obediently reaching down to stroke his cock. He felt so unsure
of what he should be doing, moving his hips up a bit, a loud groan escaping his
throat. Part of him hoped that if he proved to be a bad enough pet that Francis
would let him go, even if the likelihood of that was rather slim.
Of course, that would require Alfred to have some semblance of luck left, and
fate was not in the mood to be so kind. “Well,” said Francis, “you’re rather
bad at this, but I didn’t give up on Arthur, and I shan’t give up on you! So
long as you don’t try to revolt like he did, of course. I’m not quite as
attached to you. I’ll slit your throat if I have to.” He’d said the same thing
to Arthur, of course, but he really meant it for Alfred.
Francis’s words weren’t very comforting to Alfred, holding in a sob as he moved
a bit more, up and down on the man’s cock. He stroked his own as he moved, his
own cock hardly erect.
“If you’re going to cry, you can turn around,” ordered Francis. At least that
way he would see Alfred’s round bottom instead of his red eyes. He wasn’t in
the mood, nor did he have the time to spend the entire night coaching the
latest addition to his harem in the ways of sex. That could come after he’d
been reunited with his favorite little runaway.
Alfred knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep himself from crying, nodding as
he lifted himself off of Francis’s cock and turned himself around. Again he
penetrated himself onto the other, letting his tears flow freely now.
“And keep quiet,” said Francis. He gave Alfred’s bottom a firm smack with the
palm of his hand, leaned back, and finally began to relax. Even if the Puritan
wasn’t good at the emotional side, at least he had a bit of a handle on the
physical one.
Alfred bit his lip, not even yelling out as he was suddenly slapped. Arthur may
have been cruel but Francis was just an asshole, it was no wonder that Arthur
ended up like the way he was. Keeping his hand on his cock Alfred began to move
again, up and down on the pirate's cock.
Francis, meanwhile, made no motions to thrust up and in, as he usually did.
Rather, there was something that caught his eye. He traced the brand that
marred Alfred’s flesh and pursed his lips. “This is going to have to go,
somehow. Maybe if I cut it off.”
Alfred had almost forgotten about the brand, goosebumps rising on his flesh as
it was barely touched. "N-No," he yelled out, thinking that a chunk of missing
flesh seemed way worse than a brand.
Once more, Francis slapped him on the rear. “Don’t back-talk. If you complain,
I’ll just do it without giving you any alcohol to numb the pain.” He couldn’t
help but wonder if Arthur had done so when he’d branded Alfred. Knowing the
shattered husk of a man he’d turned the once-innocent child into, probably not.
Alfred whimpered at that, shutting his eyes and just focusing on moving up and
down on Francis's cock. He just wanted it to get over with already, his own
cock only half hard as he lazily stroked it. He wondered how long it would be
until he was rescued, knowing he'd soon go insane if he had to stay for very
long.
Francis, tired of concentrating on such mundane things as how he was going to
peel the skin off of that area of Alfred’s body, began to go back to
concentrating on the pleasure, as difficult as it was with those letters
staring him in the face. So, instead, he decided to imagine someone else. “Ah,
Arthur, my little kitten…”
Alfred's eyes opened wide at that, about to correct the man before realizing
that doing that would be incredibly stupid. He tried to concentrate as well,
shutting his eyes again as he moved a bit faster now.
Francis peaked to thoughts of Arthur’s face, blushing heavily and contorted
with unwanted pleasure, as it always had been in the past. The one in his
imagination was a bit younger than the one he’d seen back on the dock, but that
would change soon enough. His finger had ended up involuntarily squeezing the
trigger of his gun after all; it was very lucky for Alfred that he’d decided
not to keep it loaded.
Before Alfred could even register that Francis had came he had screamed out,
hearing the gun click. It was only a second later that he opened his eyes and
realized that it must not have been loaded, not smelling nor seeing anything.
"A-Are you done now?"
Francis blinked, having almost forgotten that Alfred was there. “Hm? Oh, I
suppose I should have someone take you down to the brig now. My apologies. Your
presence was beneath my notice.” It was important to belittle them, and let
them know just how worthless they were. At least, it was important to do that
for all of them except the one. As romantic as he tried to be with Arthur, the
bushy-browed traitor had never returned his affections. One day, though, he
wouldn’t be able to resist.
Alfred lifted himself off of Francis's cock, rather glad to hear about going to
the brig. Still, his words were so harsh it was hard not to snap back however
his time spent with Arthur had taught him the importance of keeping his mouth
shut.
Without warning, Francis pulled Alfred back down, and pressed his stubbly cheek
against the Puritan’s. “You know, even though you look nothing alike, your
demeanor reminds me a little of him. How has he been without me? Is he eating
well? I certainly hope he didn’t offer you any of his cooking.”
Alfred yelped as he was suddenly yanked down, disgusted as how his face was
touching the others. "He's fine on his own, probably would be doing better if
he had never met you."
Rather than strike him, Francis nodded in agreement. “Probably. But then, that
would ruin the fun, wouldn’t it? What sort of a life is that of a fisherman,
anyway? He was of noble birth. One way or another, he would have gotten tired
of it. I simply sped that process along.” And probably bent him further than he
ever would have on his own, too, but that was beside the point. Piracy wasn’t
about playing fair. “I’m surprised you’re so confident that he wouldn’t be such
a terrible person without me. After all, he captured you, did he not? Don’t
tell me you’ve actually started to grow fond of him.” It was surprisingly
common with captives, in his experience. Maybe one day they would give the
phenomenon a name.
"Of course not!" Alfred shouted, doubting his own words. He felt so conflicted
about everything, he hated Arthur but hoped the man would save him and take him
back at the same time. Still Alfred was convinced that it was Francis who made
Arthur so terrible, a chill running up his spine at the thought. After all what
if he turned out like Arthur?
“But you like him more than you like me, is that not true? Don’t bother to
answer; after all, you can’t lie to yourself,” said Francis, smirking and
finally allowing Alfred to stand. “If the answer is yes, then somewhere in your
heart, you harbour some semblance of positive feelings for your former captor.
Like a seed, it will only continue to grow. You can tear at the petals all you
want, but the wheels have been set in motion.” He sighed, longingly, and didn’t
seem to notice that he himself was still missing all of his clothes. “Not that
I can’t see why. He’s quite the catch.”
Alfred really wished the other would shut up, arms crossed as e stood, a bit of
cum dribbling down his legs. "It's like choosing whether one would rather be
hung or burned at the stake, both are terrible but being hung sounds less
painful." He still tried to resist any positive feelings for Arthur.
“That analogy was terrible,” said Francis flatly. “Leave the prose to the
experts.” At last, he got to his feet, still naked as could be. Seeming to care
little for decency, he swung the door to his quarters open and called out to
one of the men. “Good afternoon, men! Whoever escorts our live bait to the brig
will get an extra share of my darling Arthur’s gold!”
Like moths to a flame, they swarmed. Not one seemed surprised by Francis’
nudity.
Alfred shied away as Francis's crew came forward, scared that he was going to
let them fuck him like Arthur had. It was too bad he never learnt French but
such things weren't very useful for a farmer.
Luckily for Alfred, none of them seemed interested; the one who grabbed him was
a large, muscular man who tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of flour,
and began down the stairs to the brig without saying another word. The others
got back to work, and it was clear that they had absolutely no interest in the
new arrival. It was almost as though they’d seen such things so many times that
they could no longer find it in them to care.
Alfred hadn't expected to be hoisted up like that, wishing he could at least
have some clothes. At least he could sleep in the brig, it had been a long day
and he felt exhausted. Hopefully Arthur would arrive soon, and not get himself
captured.
***** Chapter 10 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hey guys, sorry it took so long to update but here it is~
The woods were heavily forested, but the clearing they’d managed to find was
open enough to give them all the space they needed to set up their bait. The
surrounding woods were laden with traps, and even if they somehow managed to
luck their way through it all, Francis’ crew had been quick to set up some
makeshift fortifications in the form of some large crates weighed down with
rocks. Arthur would see the choke point and think he had them trapped, when in
actuality, it only made everything easier to defend; with the rocks piled above
their heads, they would have to climb into the trees to stand a chance of
hitting them before their position was given away.
Francis stared at Alfred with a pleased expression, admiring the handiwork of
his crew. It probably wasn’t very comfortable to be tied naked to a tree with a
metal rod jammed up your recum, but that wasn’t his problem. “I wonder how long
it will be before Arthur arrives! Not too much more time, I’m sure. If I were
concerned about his willingness to take on a challenge, I never would have
bothered.”
Alfred’s chest was against the tree, the bark scratching him as he struggled.
It did seem like a perfect plan which only scared Alfred even more, scared that
Arthur would fail in rescuing him. Still, Arthur was cunning and smart, the man
would surely find a way. “Is the rod really necessary?” he asked, glaring up at
Francis.
“Not really,” admitted Francis, pushing Alfred’s bangs out of his face. “My,
my, when was the last time you brushed your hair? So many knots! I’ll fix that
for you.” He pulled a small comb, of all things, out of his pocket, and began
sliding it through the captive’s hair. When he ran into a knot, he took his
time carefully untangling it so as not to rip anything out.
Well, Alfred was sure nothing else could make the situation any more awkward.
He was after all tied to a tree naked, rod in his ass with a pirate grooming
his hair. “What are you doing?” Alfred asked, the tugging at his hair a bit
painful.
“It’s very important for a boy of your age to take some pride in his
appearance!” said Francis, as though the answer had been obvious, and Alfred
was crazy for asking. He made a valiant effort to smooth down a few that
insisted upon sticking straight up into the air, but no matter how much he
tried, it refused to listen. “Even Arthur always wanted to have nice hair. I
kept telling him that the style he has it in suits him, but he wouldn’t listen
to me. Seems he kept it, though, so perhaps he’s matured. It’s almost a shame.
I rather enjoyed messing with him. Oh, my, that does look good, considering the
circumstances!” he added proudly, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “A bit
oily, though. Have you tried citrus?”
Alfred really didn’t care to hear about Arthur or his days with Francis,
grunting as the man tugged at his hair. “No I haven’t,” He said, teeth clenched
in anger. The other talked way too much, it was really getting on his nerves.
Francis gasped. Genuinely. “What? Don’t tell me you’ve gone your whole life
unaware of the benefits of citrus! It really helps to break up the oil, and
give it a wonderful shine! Why, how else do you think I could possibly keep
mine so soft and glorious? Here, feel it!” He pressed his hair to Alfred’s
face, seeing as both of his arms were bound.
Alfred cringed at that, turning his head to try and get away from the other. “I
don’t care about your damn hair,” he snapped, wondering if the pirate was just
insane or if all Frenchmen were like this.
“Such language! I thought you were a Puritan,” said Francis, though it was
clear from his smile that he was only joking around. “Maybe later, then.”
Suddenly, his demeanor turned serious, as the sound of rustling leaves could be
heard. He drew his sword, and ducked behind one of their makeshift
fortifications. “...Finally.”
Alfred was about to snap back again but he also heard some rustling, wondering
if it was Arthur. Surely the pirate could find his way out of this mess even if
it did seem impossible.
No shots were fired. A lone figure entered the compound with his arms raised
over his head. Francis slowly peered out from behind his cover and raised an
eyebrow as his men circled the seemingly-helpless man, all aiming their weapons
at him.
“Francis,” said Arthur Kirkland, a smile on his face. “Francis Bonnefoy. It’s
been a long time.”
“Oui,” agreed Francis, standing up straight. “It has.”
Alfred craned his head to try and watch what was going on. Was Arthur
surrendering? It seemed so out of character for the man but here he was doing
just that. Surely it's just a trick he thought to himself. "Arthur!" He called
out, tears in his eyes. Arthur was here to save him, right?
Francis looked at Arthur critically, though his eyes betrayed his lust. “So,
you’ve come to save your pet, have you?”
Arthur brought his arms down slowly, making no move for his gun. His posture
became less threatening, and he angled his feet inward, with his hands clasped
in front of his body. “I’ve looked everywhere for you, you know. From the
moment I got away, I was plagued with doubt.” He batted his eyelashes, and
moved his hand up across his face as though he were wiping a tear from his eye
before it fell. “The only thing that gave me the strength to lead was knowing
that you were somewhere out there! I dreamed that someday I might return to
your side to face the punishment I so rightly deserve, Master Bonnefoy!”
Alfred was rather shocked. It had to be a lie right? After all Arthur hated
Francis. Still, he kept his mouth shut, if it was a lie he had to let Arthur
play along which also meant he had to play along too. "But Arthur, aren't you
here to rescue me?" He asked, doing his best to look at the pirate.
Francis snorted, even as the men around him began to lower their guard.
“Arthur, your pet here might be an idiot, but I’m no such fool. Do you honestly
think I would fall for a ploy that I taught you myself?” He lifted up his gun
and aimed it straight at Arthur, whose eyes began to narrow. “Now, why don’t
you kneel down and give me a sincere apology, hm?”
The ruse abandoned, Arthur laughed out loud. “I suppose my acting hasn’t
improved much. My skills, on the other hand…”
“...are meaningless. You’re surrounded,” said Francis, shaking his head as one
would at the antics of a child. “Drop your weapons.”
Arthur let his gun fall to the ground, followed by his sword.
“All your weapons,” corrected Francis.
The British mainlander removed his coat and tossed it aside, where the knives
lining the inside became visible.
“Frisk him.”
One of Francis’ men put away their weapon to step forward, and began patting
down Arthur’s entire body. Arthur, in the meantime, merely maintained a bored-
looking expression on his face, as though they were mundane proceedings.
Now Alfred was getting scared, wondering if this was still all part of Arthur's
act. The pirate was smarter than he looked after all. Tears began to run down
his face, hoping that somehow Arthur and him could escape. Perhaps Arthur would
stage a mutiny, his own crew waiting to attack. That had to be it, it wasn't
like Arthur to so easily give in.
“You’re making a mistake,” said Arthur, looking completely relaxed.
“A mistake?” spat one of Francis’ men with a cackle; he had a slightly heavier
French accent than the captain. “You are completely surrounded!”
“Am I?” asked Arthur, starting to smile. “Or is it you who-”
“Captain Bonnefoy! We’ve captured the last of Kirkland’s men around the
perimeter!” said one of the men. Sure enough, a long line of disarmed pirates
were marched into the series of fortifications. Arthur’s confident face fell,
replaced by a look of shock.
Francis took the opportunity to gloat. “Oh, Arthur… You should know by now not
to put all of your men into a single, short-sighted plan. What would you call
it over here? ‘Putting all your eggs in one basket?’ ”
Alfred was losing all hope as well, watching as Arthur's crew was caught. He
turned his head back, forehead against the tree as he started to sob. He wanted
to tell himself that it was all a trick, that Arthur knew what he was doing. He
knew he couldn't give up hope yet, for all he knew Arthur really did know what
he was doing.
“Damn you,” snarled Arthur, his face scarlet with rage. One of Francis’ men
stepped forward to grab him from behind, but he yanked his arms away. “Don’t
touch me!”
“What should we do with the captives, Captain?” asked one of the French
pirates.
“We need no more sailors. However, we shall suffer them to live long enough to
watch their beloved leader panting like a bitch in heat,” answered Francis.
“The nerve…” growled Arthur.
“Ah, so you do remember how to speak French!” said Francis, clapping his hands
together. “Très bon! I’ll expect you to beg in my language, as well.”
“Go to Hell!”
Alfred was sobbing now, not understanding a thing that was going on. "Let us go
dammit!" He shouted, turning to glare at Francis as he struggled against his
bindings. Was it really all over? He was getting scared for his own life, after
all Francis had made it quite clear that he was just being used as bait.
Francis ripped the rod in Alfred’s tight confines out of him, and tossed it
aside. “Take the crates back to the ship. Keep the prisoners alive on deck. I
want them all to see the main event. After we kill them, you may all use the
Puritan boy to your heart’s content. Just keep your hands off of Arthur. He’s
mine.”
“How dare you speak of me in such a way?” said Arthur, as another two men
grabbed him from behind. “Face me like a man, you coward! I’ll run you
through!”
“Such tenacity in the face of overwhelming odds,” said Francis longingly. He
took Arthur’s head in his hands and pressed their lips together. In a move
absolutely everyone could have seen coming, the Briton clamped his teeth down
on his lower lip. Francis reeled back in pain, and Arthur spat in his face.
“Rot in a ditch.”
“Only if you rot with me, my little kitten!” said Francis, not sounding nearly
as angry at Arthur as he had been with Alfred, even though his lip had suffered
more damage; there was an unpleasant-looking gash, and it was bleeding heavily.
It was obvious that Arthur hadn’t held back in the least.
Alfred screamed as the rod was yanked out, tightly shutting his eyes at the
strange display. He was so sure by now that Francis would just kill him and
that all of his suffering with Arthur up until now would have been all for
nothing. "Wh-What's gonna happen to me?" He asked, looking over at Francis as
he choked out a sob.
Francis looked him over. “You’re cute enough. You can stay,” he said
decisively. “I did tell you about all the positions I have planned, did I not?
Besides, even if I’ve already violated you, it doesn’t have quite the same
impact until I do it in front of your former master.”
Arthur’s face darkened, a sinister look in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly
as it had come; in its place, his face displayed a level of unease that looked
similar to the time he’d come into the customs house pretending to be Alfred’s
caretaker. “So is that your plan? To humiliate me, kill me, and keep him for
yourself?”
The men began to march back to the ship, the prisoners from Arthur’s crew in
front. Two Frenchmen cut Alfred free, and began heading in the same direction,
their guns aimed at his back.
“Such a silly question. You should know by now that I would never kill you,
Arthur,” cooed Francis, taking Arthur’s hand and giving it a kiss. “I’ll only
make you wish you could die.”
While relieved to hear that he wouldn't be killed Alfred still felt uneasy. He
hoped he would at least get some alone time with Arthur, he needed to know if
this was all part of his plan or not. He stayed quiet as they all walked back
to Francis's ship, knowing that anything he would say would make the situation
worse.
Boarding Francis’ ship was much like boarding Arthur’s for the first time had
been; there was no dock, nor was there any sort of a ramp, so once they
finished rowing themselves out into the deep water on the tiny little ferry,
they were forced to climb up to the deck. The moment they did, Alfred was
tossed to the hardwood floor, and Arthur was quick to follow. Side by side,
they sat together as prisoners in front of the combined crew of both Francis
and the captive British mainlander.
Alfred grunted as he was tossed down, sitting on his knees and covering himself
with his hands. He knew Francis was planning on humiliating them, fresh tears
running down his cheeks. He didn't dare try to talk to Arthur either, not with
Francis right in front of them.
Arthur, however, had no such reservations. “So the whole crew is going to
watch, then? You lot haven’t changed a bit.” He crossed his arms over his
chest. “I suppose you expect me to strip, as well?”
Francis cocked his gun. “I certainly hope your skills haven’t gotten rusty in
the time you’ve been out of my care.” His men cackled, while Arthur’s men
gritted their teeth.
“And what makes you think I’m going to listen to you?” demanded Arthur. “You’ve
already told me you won’t kill me.”
“Oui, I won’t kill you,” said Francis, moving his arm to aim at Alfred. “I
will, however, kill him.”
Arthur scoffed. “You’re working under the presumption that I care about his
well-being. He means less to me than a dog.”
Alfred looked back and forth between the two men, Arthur's words stinging. "W-
Wait, d-don't let him kill me," he sobbed, looking back at Arthur. The man had
gone through the trouble of trying to get him back he wouldn't just let Francis
kill him now, right?
Francis pouted. “Aww, but Arthur, he was just telling me earlier about how much
he loves and adores you! Surely you feel some sort of attachment to him, if
only as a belonging.”
“Not one bit,” said Arthur, getting to his feet. The pirates around them
quickly held up their guns, on alert. “But this is a pointless argument. You’ll
just starve us until we give in, even if I refuse, and I’m not in the mood. So
fine, have your show. Alfred, get up.” He gave the boy a light kick.
Alfred nodded, wiping his face with his arm before he stood up, legs shaking a
bit. "A-Are you really just gonna give in?" He asked, not even looking at
Arthur's face. It was so hard to believe it was all a ruse by the other,
everything was just going so well for Francis.
Arthur’s gaze was stone-cold. “There’s no point in a fish flopping about after
they’ve been caught.”
“I am surprised, though,” said Francis, placing his free hand on his hip; at
that range, he didn’t need the second for additional accuracy. “You used to
have more fight in you.”
“I’ve grown up and moved on,” snapped Arthur irritably. Despite his unpleasant
tone, and the death glare he was still shooting Francis, he began to remove his
shirt, slowly and sensually. He lifted it up over his arms, then flicked it off
to the side as though it were nothing.
Alfred glanced over at Arthur, watching the man undress. He felt so hopeless,
still covering himself with his hands. "Wh-What are you gonna do to us?" He
asked, the question directed at Francis.
Arthur finally broke his gaze away from Francis to turn to Alfred. “Do you
really need to ask at this point?” He rolled his shoulders back as Francis
looked on appreciatively, and began to pull down his trousers, as well as
everything underneath. He removed them slowly, and it was apparent that he was
in no rush.
Alfred was taken aback by Arthur's outburst, lower lip trembling as he looked
away. "Sorry," he mumbled, feeling as if it was taking an eternity just to get
to it. He hated the anticipation, hated knowing there was nothing he could do
but wait.
At last, the two of them were both naked, plain as day. Just as Francis had
said and expected, Arthur had a scowl on his face, looking very much like he
wanted nothing more than to strangle every last person on board the ship.
Though it wasn’t so much an act of defiance as it was a sarcastic gesture, he
did a little twirl where he stood, only to face Francis again. “Enjoying the
view? Now, I imagine it might make a lesser man feel inadequate, but surely the
great Captain Bonnefoy is above such trivial emotions as jealousy.”
There was a not-so-hidden bulge in Francis’ own crotch, as well as a smug smirk
on his face. “Very nice. Now, why don’t you give us all a show with him, then?”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “As you wish, Master Bonnefoy,” he said coldly. Without
hesitation, he pulled Alfred in close, and pressed their lips together.
Alfred definitely had not been expecting that, lips crashed against Arthur's
and his body pressed up against the other's. It wouldn't have that bad if they
were alone but he could just feel Francis's gaze on them, making him feel
somewhat sick. He tried to kiss back, knowing there was no point in fighting
back and opened his mouth, allowing the other to slip his tongue inside.
A hand began to slide down Alfred’s back; Arthur’s hand, as it turned out.
Before his fingers could slide into his entrance, Francis issued a verbal
command.
“Don’t stretch him. The two of you will be taken unprepared,” said Francis
firmly. Not that it mattered too much for Alfred, who’d had a rod up his rectum
just ten minutes prior, but Arthur would certainly suffer, especially seeing as
he hadn’t had anything there for years.
Arthur broke his lips away from Alfred’s. Instead, he began to rub their cocks
together, nibbling on the slightly taller man’s collarbone.
Alfred rested his head against Arthur’s shoulder, groaning out as his cock
rubbed against the other’s. It was hard not to start sobbing as they did this,
Alfred really feeling as if there was no hope for escape left.
Arthur bit into Alfred’s ear, still rubbing their bodies together. For a
moment, he kept his teeth around the skin, as though debating whether or not to
whisper something. Ultimately, though, he ended up just pulling his head back
and reaching down to stroke the Puritan’s length.
“That should do!” said Francis, seeming eager. “Now, Alfred, get on your hands
and knees.”
Alfred was blushing deeply, feeling everyone’s eyes on them. He pushed away
from Arthur as he heard Francis talk, nodding silently as he sank down to his
knees. “Like this?” he asked, getting on all fours and facing away from
Francis.
“Perfect!” said Francis, even as Arthur looked about ready to pounce on
somebody and strangle them. “Now, Arthur, you get on top of him.”
Arthur glowered at him. “You want me to sit on him?”
“No, I want you to lay on top of him so both of your bums are exposed,”
explained Francis, his tone like that of a teacher giving a lecture. “I would
have had you on the bottom, but, well, your little conquest here is a bit
bigger.”
With all the fiery rage in Arthur’s eyes, it was a wonder the entire ship
didn’t burst into flame. “I see.” He did as he was told despite his obvious
distaste, and climbed on top of Alfred so his own soft cock was pressed up
against his lower back.
Alfred grunted as the older man climbed on top of him, luckily strong enough to
keep himself up. It was so humiliating, tears running down his cheeks as he
choked out another sob. Hopefully Francis wouldn’t drag this out, but then
again knowing him he would do his best to take as long as he could.
Francis was already on his knees with his cock out; without hesitation, he
thrust it into Alfred’s hole, and began pounding into him without mercy. Arthur
gritted his teeth from his position on top of Alfred as the act caused them to
rock back and forth. The men around them whistled and jeered from the
sidelines.
Alfred couldn’t help but scream at the dry penetration, the metal rod from
before not doing anything to prepare him for now. “S-Stop!” he screamed, his
face pressed against the wooden floor as he was thrust into.
Despite thrusting into Alfred, Francis’ hands were traveling along Arthur’s
body. He dragged them up his sides, and pressed his fingers to his lips,
inviting him to suck; instead, Arthur opted to open his mouth and bite into
them, breaking the skin and causing Francis to cry out in pain.
“You haven’t changed at all!” said Francis, sounding equal parts relieved and
disappointed; he shook his hand out as the others laughed, trying to ignore the
pain. “Ah, I think you broke it!” Sure enough, it was bent out of place.
Arthur smirked, seeming satisfied with that, but Francis wasn’t about to take
it lying down. He pulled out of Alfred, and pressed the head of his cock to
Arthur’s hole. The British captain’s whole body seemed to grow very tense, and
he squeezed both of the Puritan captive’s shoulders in preparation for what was
to come.
“I hope you drown in semen,” spat Arthur in one last act of defiance before
Francis tore into his tight, unstretched hole. Despite how tense he was, and
though he was obviously in a lot of pain, he didn’t make any sounds beyond the
occasional grunt.
While Alfred was relieved to not have Francis’s dick inside of him anymore just
listening to Arthur’s grunts was painful enough. He was even feeling bad for
the man, knowing it had been a long time since he had ever had anything in
there.
“See, Alfred is behaving so nicely!” said Francis as he drove himself into
Arthur’s dry hole. “And that’s why he’s going to get some lubrication.” As if
on cue, one of his men dropped a bucket at his side; Francis dipped his fingers
into what looked to be oil, and pushed them into Alfred without stopping the
movement of his hips.
Alfred groaned at the penetration, his hips moving back against the man’s
fingers. He still felt bad, knowing Arthur must be in a lot of pain without any
oil. Francis really was more cruel than Arthur, something Alfred had thought
would be impossible.
“See how he pushes back against my fingers?” said Francis, prompting Arthur to
dig his nails into Alfred’s arm. “Ah-ah-ah! Don’t punish his obedience!” The
French pirate slammed his hips forward in a particularly hard thrust, causing
Arthur to yelp, despite his best efforts to the contrary.
“He’s not being obedient to you out of loyalty. He’s being obedient because you
probably threatened to chop his cock off,” snapped Arthur, not appearing
bothered by his own hypocrisy.
“Oh? And how did you motivate him?” asked Francis, raising an eyebrow. “Go on,
Alfred, do share! There’s no need to fear. I won’t let Arthur hurt you.”
“H-He would threaten to kill my family,” Alfred sobbed, hoping Arthur wouldn’t
get mad at him for obeying Francis. After all it wasn’t like he had much of a
choice. Francis’s words did little to comfort him, even if Arthur couldn’t hurt
him Francis still would.
“His family?” repeated Francis, feigning horror. “How low, Arthur! Using others
to get what you want is the least honorable type of threat!”
It was clear that Arthur wanted to point out Francis’ hypocrisy, there, but
such a thing proved impossible; the only thing keeping him from screaming out
in pain as he was slowly split apart for the first time in years was the fact
that he was keeping his mouth tightly shut.
At last, Francis pulled out of Arthur, and removed his fingers from Alfred. The
latter finally slicked up with oil, he shoved his cock inside, giving Arthur a
brief respite to shakily catch his breath. It went in easily, both from the
previous stretching and the lubricant.
Alfred screamed out again, the pain not as bad as before but still there. He
wanted to beg so badly but he knew how pointless it was, instead settling for
sobbing into his arms as Francis fucked him. Hopefully it would be over with
soon, although knowing that they were now captured, now both prisoners on
Francis's ship only made him feel worse.
“What are you hoping to gain from this?” growled Arthur. “You know I’m not one
of your regular whores. I’ll just stab you in the back the next time I get the
chance.”
“I would expect no less from you,” said Francis, his voice breathy; it was
clear that he was enjoying Alfred’s body, certainly a lot more than Alfred was
enjoying his. “Come now, Alfred, haven’t you anything more to say? Who would
you say is the better fuck? Me, or Arthur?”
"Arthur is," Alfred replied, wanting to make Francis angry. The man was way
more annoying than Arthur, his words laced with cruelty. "Compared to him
you're terrible," yet despite his words he could feel a bit of pleasure forming
in his body, the oil helping the pain die down.
Arthur snickered smugly, though Francis seemed less pleased by the response.
“And what makes you say that? Did he not brand you? Pierce your ear? Whip you
to the point where the scars are still visible? What have I done that’s so
terrible? You’ve merely grown attached to the familiar, dearest Alfred.”
He pulled out, and pressed himself into Arthur as punishment; it was a bit
easier than the first time, since some of the oil he’d used on Alfred was still
on his cock, but it certainly didn’t seem to do much to help the British
captain, who bit into his lower lip and shuddered.
Alfred really wasn't sure how to answer. Yes Arthur had done all of those
things but somehow Francis seemed worse than the man. "He just is!" He
screamed, groaning in relief as Francis removed his cock. They definitely
needed to escape somehow.
“Hm, Arthur, you must teach me whatever technique you used on him to make him
so unwaveringly loyal,” said Francis mournfully, still viciously forcing
Arthur’s innards to spread for him as the latter spent all his energy refusing
to make a sound. “I wonder, what causes a man of God to fall for another of his
sex? And a kidnapper, at that.” The other men laughed and chattered amongst
themselves.
Those words echoed in Alfred's ears, regretting ever answering the pirate. "I
said he was better than you and that's all," he snapped, sobbing as he hid his
face in his arms. He couldn't stop himself from crying, anger and shame filling
him.
Arthur exhaled, and gave Alfred’s shoulder a squeeze; not a hard, painful
squeeze, but a firm one that was most likely intended to be comforting. Francis
didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care.
“I won’t question your logic further, because you’re obviously not very smart,”
said Francis. He resumed fingering Alfred as he fucked Arthur, preferring the
upper man’s tight hole.
Alfred felt the other squeeze his shoulder, sighing in relief. It felt oddly
comforting, Alfred glad at least that Arthur wasn’t upset with him. He still
hoped that somehow Arthur had an escape plan, after all it didn’t seem like the
pirate to let himself get captured so easily.
“Come now, Arthur, aren’t you going to beg for more?” asked Francis, licking
his lips.
“In your- NGH! - dreams!”
Francis’ fingers continued to probe Alfred’s heat, teasing his prostate with
constant rubbing and prodding. Despite his attitude, he was quite sexually
experienced, and finding the right spot didn’t even qualify as a challenge. He
was hitting Arthur’s, too, though one would never know it from the way the
British captain refused to open his mouth.
Alfred couldn’t help but let out moans each time Francis hit his prostate, hips
rolling back against Francis’s fingers. His cock was hard, leaking precum as
the man’s fingers thrust into him. Surely Francis was almost done, it felt like
it was taking an eternity to finish.
At some point, thankfully for the both of them, Francis released his seed into
Arthur’s confines. It was clear that the latter of the two was perfectly aware
of what was happening, and his face seemed to change color with disgust; it
looked very much like he was about to vomit.
“F-fucking frog…” groaned Arthur, burying his face in Alfred’s back, and
clearly straining not to voice his pain.
Alfred felt a bit relieved to hear that Francis was done, feeling bad for
Arthur as he felt the man bury his face against his body. “A-Are you done now?”
he asked Francis, hoping to hear a yes for an answer.
“For now, I believe the festivities can conclude!” said Francis, practically
beaming with happiness. He pulled out of Arthur, whose face just seemed to
radiate murderous intent, and brushed himself off. “If someone would kindly
escort these two to the brig?”
A pair of men grabbed the two of them and lifted them up off of the ground.
Arthur, for all his obvious anger, didn’t fight back, opting to instead just
hang their limply.
Alfred didn't fight back either, glad to finally just be getting away from
Francis. He could also talk to Arthur alone while down in the brig. He had to
know if the pirate had an escape plan. After all it wasn't like Arthur to just
let himself get captured without a backup plan.
When they reached the cells, there were already a cluster of people there; some
men, some women, but all of them were beautiful, and it was obvious what
purpose they served on the ship. Apparently Francis hadn’t taken any risks
giving them combat training after Arthur’s successful escape. It was clear from
a glance at their sturdy muscles that they were still expected to work out at
sea; they were just locked up close to land.
The two men dumped both Arthur and Alfred the empty cell beside that one;
Francis’ whores made it a point to ignore them, though the British captain
couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. Perhaps his very presence meant
that they were being treated less than favorably. Or perhaps they didn’t
appreciate the competition. More than once, Arthur had seen a member of
Francis’ harem have their throat slit because the Frenchman had grown tired of
them, and decided to replace them with someone else.
The men left them without another word. Despite what had happened, Arthur’s
face broke out into a grin.
Alfred grunted as he was thrown in the cell, sitting up on his knees and
looking over at Arthur, noticing the smile on his face. "Arthur?" He whispered,
not wanting the others to hear him. "Why are you smiling?" Did this mean the
man had an escape plan? It was the only logical conclusion. "Do you actually
have an escape plan worked out?"
“You didn’t honestly think I’d be so stupid as to waltz right into Francis’
little encampment without a plan, did you?” asked Arthur, standing up. He
grimaced as sperm dripped down his legs. “I should discipline you for
disobeying me, but if you lick this vile substance off my thighs, I’ll consider
Francis’ treatment of you punishment enough.” He reached up to his earlobe, and
pulled out what had been assumed to be an ordinary earring. All the other
weapons he’d brought with him had been but distractions from the one thing he
really needed. “I was hoping he’d send us here directly and take his sweet time
deciding on a ‘punishment’ for me, but I suppose it can’t be helped. You’re
never to bring up what happened up on deck again, by the way.”
Alfred grimaced at the word lick. "I didn't mean to disobey you," he mumbled,
gulping before leaning forward and running his tongue along Arthur's thigh. It
tasted disgusting, Alfred shuddering as he lapped up the Frenchman's cum.
"What's your plan?" Alfred asked between licks, watching as Arthur began to
pick the lock.
“All you had to do was go back the way you came. There were people everywhere.
The only explanation is that you came willingly,” said Arthur curtly, not
really in the mood to discuss the situation right then, especially not as
Francis’ other whores all began watching him with fascination as he took the
earring. It had a back that was much longer than average, and he began to pick
the lock with it.
"Sorry," Alfred muttered, lapping up the rest of Francis's cum off of Arthur's
thighs. Still, Arthur couldn't be too mad if he came to save him right? He
could have easily just found a new person after all.
“It’s quite alright. Even if you hadn’t gone and gotten yourself caught, I
would have had to deal with him at some point or another,” sighed Arthur,
finally managing to unlock the door. He put the earring back into the lobe.
Just because he hated the man who’d pierced it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to
take full advantage of what he had. “Now, do you think there’s any cloth around
here? I have my modesty to protect, you know.”
Alfred looked around but saw nothing, shaking his head no. Part of him felt bad
for the other people down there, wishing he could help them escape as well.
"Thanks for coming," he said, wiping his mouth with his arm as he finally
pulled away.
“I would be lying if I said the thought of that frog inside you is enough to
make my stomach churn,” admitted Arthur, finally opting to head up the stairs;
it wasn’t as though they hadn’t all seen him naked, anyway. Already, the sound
of gunfire could be heard as all the men he hadn’t taken with him for the the
fake ambush took the enemy by surprise, and those that had allowed themselves
to be caught cut themselves free of their rope binds with the knives they’d
kept hidden in their sleeves. “Francis can be brilliant at times, but he’s
cripplingly short-sighted when it comes to his sex drive. That he actually fell
for such a scheme is a testament to that. And to think, I came up with an
entire back-up plan for when this one inevitably failed! Such a pity.”
Alfred followed the other, fear leaving him as he heard the gun shots. He was
relieved that this was all a plan of Arthur's, running up the stairs behind the
man. "How are we gonna get off the ship?” he asked, wondering if Arthur's crew
had brought his ship around.
“Weren’t you paying attention? The men were too busy watching the show to so
much as raise the anchor,” said Arthur, stopping at the top, just beneath the
closed hatch leading to the main deck. “Any minute now, and we should get the
signal…”
Someone knocked on the hatch. Once, twice, then three times. The gunfire had
stopped.
Arthur opened it slowly, on the off-chance that something had gone wrong.
Thankfully, though, everything had gone according to plan. His men had killed
or subdued all of Francis’ men with fewer casualties on their end than he could
count on one hand. The man standing outside dropped a folded set of clothes
into Arthur’s arms, which he accepted with a nod; following that, a dress was
handed to Alfred.
“What of Francis?” asked Arthur as he put on the clothes he’d been given.
“Captured alive, just as you wanted, sir. Does this mean…?”
Rolling his eyes, Arthur nodded. “Yes, you may go raid the treasury. Be sure to
leave enough men up here that we don’t have to worry about escapees.”
“Aye, captain!”
Alfred frowned as he got the dress, sighing and slipping it over his head. "Are
you gonna kill Francis?" He asked, chewing his bottom lip nervously. He felt so
conflicted. On one hand he wanted Francis to be punished but on the other hand
he felt bad for even thinking such things. Either way he just desperately
wanted off of the ship.
“Believe it or not, the answer is no,” said Arthur, and it was clear from his
tone and hardened expression that he had thought long and hard about the
decision. “Living with the knowledge that I beat him twice and slipped away yet
again is far worse for him than death.” Not that he was going to let Francis
slip away without any physical retribution.
Alfred sighed in relief at that, still following closely behind Arthur. He
could see now that most of Francis's crew had been caught or killed, feeling a
bit sick at the sight of so much blood. "Can we get off this ship now?"
“Soon. There’s one last thing we have to take care of,” said Arthur, patting
Alfred gently on the head. “Just bear with it a little longer.”
A pair of his own men dragged a bound, angry Francis up towards them.
“You!” said Francis, appearing both furious and awed. “You…”
“Hold him still, boys,” said Arthur. Without another word, he raised his leg,
and slammed the boot he’d been given straight into Francis’ crotch, prompting
the perverted captain to scream like a little girl. That wasn’t the extent of
it, though. He repeated the action, grinning wickedly. And again. It was only
after about ten kicks, and after the Frenchman started sobbing uncontrollably,
that he finally motioned for his men to let him down.
Alfred cringed as he watched, almost finding the man's punishment to be too
extreme. He looked away after a few kicks, unable to watch such a painful
display. He just wanted to leave already, a few fresh tears forming in his
eyes.
“Don’t cry for him,” said Arthur, taking Alfred’s hand in his. “Don’t forget
about what he did to you. To me.” As one final act of contempt, he spat on
Francis’ crumpled form, and turned around. “We’ll leave him what few men he has
left. I have no need of them. Come along, darling. Let’s get back to the ship.”
Alfred nodded, holding Arthur's hand as the man led them away. "Did you mean
what you told Francis earlier?" He asked, remembering the man's harsh words.
"Or was that just a lie to fool Francis?"
“I told Francis a lot of things,” said Arthur; like a true gentleman, he
assisted Alfred down the side of the ship, whether or not he needed the help,
and held him steady as he entered the bobbing ferry to take them back to the
Unicorn. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
Alfred shakily climbed down, sitting down in the small boat. "That you didn't
care about me. That was a lie right?" He asked, feeling a bit embarrassed
asking such a thing. "After all you went through the trouble of saving me."
Arthur took a moment to grasp what he’d just been asked. As his men rowed them
back to the ship, he turned to face Alfred, and took the teen’s hands in his.
With a straight face, and a sincere-sounding voice, he gave his answer. “Of
course it was a lie. I care deeply for your well-being. You’re my wife, after
all.” It was a half-truth, of sorts. Of course he cared for Alfred’s well-
being. He’d invested far too much time into training him to lose him to
Francis.
Alfred nodded, wiping away a few tears with his hands. He assumed as much
considering all the trouble Arthur went through to find him but he needed to
hear it himself. "Thanks. I'm sorry for getting captured," if only he had run
off when Francis approached him, then they wouldn't have been in that mess.
Arthur pulled him onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around Alfred’s body in a
hug. “There, there. You’ve suffered enough, I think. We made a hefty sum today,
and I got to kick Francis in the balls. Quite a successful day, as far as I’m
concerned.” He didn’t even wince at the pain shooting up his spine as a result
of sitting down after being penetrated for the first time in so long. “Just
make sure to learn from this experience.”
Alfred leaned in against Arthur’s chest, nodding his head as the man talked. He
was just happy to be off the ship and returning home to Arthur’s. “Can we still
go out sometime? Maybe in the next place we dock in?” After all he hadn’t
gotten his chance since he was kidnapped.
Arthur looked at him sternly. “Do you promise to stay in plain sight, and not
to go off in private with strangers?” He was pretty sure that much should have
been learned already, but he wasn’t taking any chances. “Speaking of which,
what possessed you to follow him earlier?” He knew for a fact that Francis
couldn’t have kidnapped him out in public, or carried an unconscious body
through all those people without arousing suspicion.
“He uh, said he needed some urgent help and wouldn’t leave me alone even after
I told him I was busy.” Looking back Alfred did feel rather stupid for even
following Francis. After all he should have known from Arthur that it was best
not to trust strangers.
The pirate couldn’t help himself; he laughed, and gave Alfred a light slap on
the back. “Oh, God. You’re really too nice for your own good, sometimes. Did he
at least tell you what the problem was, or did you just take his word for it?”
His poor pet, so naive, and so ignorant about the workings of the world.
Alfred’s face reddened a bit at that, almost too embarrassed to answer. “H-He
just said he needed help. He didn’t tell me,” He muttered, face pressed against
Arthur’s chest to hide his humiliation. “He said it wouldn’t take that long.”
“Oh, Alfred,” sighed Arthur. Really, it was probably for the best that he
didn’t have his freedom. His empty head would have gotten him killed one of
those days. “I suppose it’s partially my fault. I’m your caretaker, and you’re
my responsibility.” At last, the rowboat made it to their ship. “Just promise
you’ll be careful next time.” He really didn’t want to go through anything like
that again. Kicking Francis in the balls eased the anguish, but it didn’t
completely negate the fact that he’d been violated for Alfred’s sake.
Alfred nodded, climbing up onto the ship as Arthur followed. “I will. I didn’t
know he was dangerous,” he said, crossing his arms and shivering a bit in the
cool air. He felt exhausted, not caring where he slept he just needed some
rest.
“Everyone is dangerous, Alfred,” said Arthur, placing a hand on his shoulder.
That was something he’d learned after many years of piracy. “The only
difference is to what degree.” Even the tiniest child might be willing to pick
up a kitchen knife if you slaughtered their parents in front of them.
Alfred leaned in against Arthur, nodding his head. “Can I get some sleep? I’m
really tired.” He hoped that somehow Arthur would let him share his bed,
although he didn’t give his hopes up. Even the brig would be fine. He just
wanted some sleep.
“Of course. Just head back to my quarters,” said Arthur, pulling him down to
give him a kiss on the forehead. “I have work to do, but I’ll join you later.
Sleep well. Training resumes in the morn.”
“Thank you,” Alfred said, so relieved to hear that he could sleep in Arthur’s
bed. He quickly took off for the room, shutting the door behind him and
practically jumping into the bed. He rolled up in a few of the blankets, taking
in Arthur’s scent as he quickly fell asleep.
***** Chapter 11 *****
Chapter by BeatriceTheGolden
Chapter Notes
     Another chapter~
     Enjoy
Arthur was pleased by how Alfred’s training had been coming along on their way
to the next port. His aim had been getting steadily better by the day, and
while his swordsmanship still reeked of inexperience, he was a fast learner,
and his reflexes were gradually becoming sharper. They weren’t in Spanish
territory just yet, but they would be soon enough. When they finally fired on
that lovely little treasure ship, he wanted him ready for anything. The
Spaniards weren’t going to give up their gold without a fight
“Excellent work,” he said, ruffling Alfred’s hair and smiling at the hole-
ridden piece of cloth hanging before them. “Keep it up, and you’ll be shooting
like the best of them in no time at all.”
Alfred smiled at the compliment, rather proud of himself. "Thanks," he said,
giving Arthur a grin. Shooting was rather fun although he doubted he could
actually shoot a real person. "So are we going to be in port soon?" He asked,
holding the gun down. After all the last time they were at port he never got to
actually get off and go have fun. Hopefully this time would be different.
“Patience, lad, we’re almost there. I promise I’ll take you to a tavern for
apple pie,” Arthur assured him, putting his own gun away. “Now put that back in
the holster I gave you, and go put some men’s clothing on. You should bring the
gun, too. It’s a good habit to get into, at least in areas that allow it.” The
colonies were a bit more lax about such things than the mainland, being on a
frontier, and all. Alfred had proven himself responsible enough to be allowed
to keep one on him, as far as he was concerned.
Alfred nodded, glad to hear he could get in some men's clothes. He put his gun
away, heading towards Arthur's quarters and finding a pair of clothes for him
on the bed. He stripped out of his dress, putting the holster down as he got
into his trousers and shirt. Grabbing the gun again he headed back out, rather
excited about that pie.
“That was fast,” noted Arthur. He leaned out over the starboard side of the
ship as the men steered into port. A rope was thrown down to tie the vessel to
the dock, and the anchor was lowered into the sea. He spared a quick glance
over the wood holding the Unicorn together; they’d grazed some sort of a rock
or reef along the way, and repairs would have to be made that would last longer
than a quick patchwork job. The men hauled the ramp over, and set it into
place, only to return to their duties with the cargo. “Ladies first.”
Alfred frowned, heading down with Arthur following him. He really was looking
forward to pie, getting rather tired of all the hardtack. "Oh man I hope they
have good pie," he said, mouth already watering.
“All the things to be done on shore, and you’re excited about pie?” scoffed
Arthur. Nonetheless, he chuckled and took the lead. “My first mate will handle
customs. Our main reason for being here is to restock, as it is.” They needed
to refill all the water barrels, and purchase more rum.
There weren’t nearly as many cities past a certain point on the way down south,
so the smell wasn’t quite as bad as it had been at some of their other stops.
The buildings at the end of the dock were all rather modest, and in the
distance he could spot nothing but miles of farmland. Still, the port town
sported a decent-looking tavern, and a few shops to sell some of their
contraband off to. He guided Alfred to the wooden door, and held it open for
him as any gentleman would.
Alfred headed in, looking around. The tavern seemed a bit seedy looking but he
figured he shouldn't complain, as long as he got his pie. "Well after weeks of
hardtack pie sounds wonderful," he said, stomach growling at the thought.
The vast majority of the clientele were made up of burly sailors, their muscles
built up from years of hauling. Arthur would be the first to admit he wasn’t
much of a hauler; that was for the peons. Still, all things considered, he’d
eaten in far worse places. “Surely you want to eat something a little more
wholesome, first.” He loved seafood, but right then, he was certain he’d kill
for a land-dwelling animal, like turkey or beef. “You’re from around these
parts, so I suppose you wouldn’t understand how difficult it is for anyone but
the rich to get good meat back in the mainland.”
"Well, some meat sounds nice. Corn or beef maybe," Alfred was also a bit tired
of seafood. He was a little nervous in the tavern but having Arthur with him
made him feel more safe from the men around them. Honestly he could just eat an
entire pie for dinner, remembering the pies his mother used to make. "So, it's
hard to find meat back where you're from?" He asked, trying to shake the
thought of his family out of his head.
“Yes, most of the land where the game lives is owned by those with all of the
wealth,” answered Arthur, striding over to a table with confident steps. “It’s
not that meat is non-existent; it’s just very expensive. My family owned some
land, once, but I believe I’ve already told you how that ended up.” He sat
down, and motioned for Alfred to do the same. A woman in a rather risque dress
coming up just below her knees came to greet them.
“Is there anything I can get for a couple of handsome young men like
yourselves?” she asked, and Arthur could tell by her demeanor that it was
likely she was offering more than just food.
“Alcohol. Meat. Some corn and milk for my friend here,” added Arthur at the
end, prompting the woman to giggle.
Alfred wasn't understanding why the woman was giggling, not thinking that
Arthur had said anything funny. "Thanks for getting us food," he said, smiling
at Arthur as his stomach rumbled again. Corn sounded amazing, so did meat. It
was too bad they couldn't have more on the ship.
The woman strolled off to get what they’d ordered; presumably, it was similar
to what everyone else had asked for. Arthur reached into his pocket to pull out
a few gold coins. The problem with traveling was that you couldn’t buy on
credit. Luckily, Francis has amassed quite the haul of gold, and all the coin
they’d made was almost worth what he’d gone through to get it.
“So, while we’re waiting, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself? It
always feels like we don’t get a lot of time to sit down and talk,” said
Arthur, leaning forward in his seat. “You know, I’m surprised how well you’ve
taken to the sea. I don’t think I’ve seen you get sick even once.” He made sure
to stay away from the topic of Alfred’s family.
"I don't know what to say that I haven't already said." Alfred shrugged. He was
rather proud of his ability to avoid seasickness though, glad that it hadn't
happened to him. "I did enjoy swimming, my brother and I would do it a lot."
Again he tried not thinking about his family, not wanting to be depressed on
such a nice day.
“There’s ample time to go swimming today. It’ll be good to rinse off all that
sweat and grime,” said Arthur. Not good. Time to steer the topic back to
happier matters. He wasn’t going to lose Alfred to depression and resentment
when he’d finally started reeling him in. Ever since the incident with Francis,
he’d been much more grateful for what Arthur provided. “So, how are you liking
your lessons so far? I have to say, you’re doing a marvelous job. I expect
you’ll be as good as any of my men by the end of the month.”
"I like them," Alfred said, glad Arthur had changed the subject. "It's fun to
practice," plus all the compliments made him feel a bit better. He was getting
used to life on the ship, although part of him still missed his home.
“Good lad. Knowing how to handle yourself will come in handy sooner or later.
I’ve lost too many men to lousy warriors they could have beaten had they
bothered to practice,” said Arthur, a bit bitterly.
The woman set two drinks on the table; the rum went to Arthur, and the milk to
Alfred. A few of the sailors around them turned their noses at the white
substance and chuckled to themselves about ‘milk-drinkers.’ Arthur was used to
ignoring such people, but he wanted to know how his pet would react. His men
hadn’t harassed his pet in quite a long time, his period of what essentially
amounted to hazing over and done with. Though they didn’t quite regard him as a
full member of the crew, they didn’t try raping him with a broom handle
anymore.
Alfred frowned at the laughter, cheeks heating up a bit. "Why are they laughing
at us?" He asked, already assuming it was because of the milk. He still hated
being teased and mocked, trying to ignore everyone else. He picked up the glass
and took a sip, sighing in relief at the taste. Laughed at or not he had missed
the taste of milk.
“Because they’re immature and have nothing better to do with their lives,”
answered Arthur, taking a sip of rum, and smiling with relief. It wasn’t top-
of-the-line, but after a full week with nothing but Francis’ stupid wine, it
was just perfect.
Not all were in agreement with his words, however. “Excuse me?” said one of the
sailors nearby, getting to his feet and looking rather angered. “You want to
say that to my face, mainlander?”
Arthur sighed. So much for ignoring the problem. He had his pride, sure, but
there was nothing to be gained from such a pointless spat. “Just forget I said
anything.”
A few of them laughed, taking it as him backing down, but the one standing
beside them wasn’t quite so easily pacified. “You listen to me! I asked you
what you said!”
Alfred sighed as he heard the man speak, really not wanting a fight. "Just
leave us alone," he said, turning to glare at the man. He didn't care if he
made the stranger angry he was not letting his pie time be ruined. Hopefully
the man would just leave, he really didn't want any fights.
Arthur almost winced sympathetically. Alfred had gotten better at fighting, but
he hadn’t even thought to talk to him about defusing situations without coming
to blows. An irritated-sounding ‘leave me alone’ wasn’t one of the best things
to say. He would know; he’d learned the hard way, himself.
“Oh, the milk-drinker is going to tell me what to do now, is that it?” demanded
the man. He was right up in Alfred’s face, his breath reeking of alcohol. “Make
me.”
Alfred cringed at the man's breath, turning his head to the side. "Look we're
just here to eat in peace okay?" he said, knowing that he had already made the
situation worse. He really needed to learn how to shut his big mouth. "We're
not wanting any trouble."
A part of Arthur wanted to come to Alfred’s aid, but the rest of him wanted to
see how he handled the situation. He decided to stay quiet as the man continued
on.
“Turning away? Something wrong, milk-drinker? All quiet and demure, all of a
sudden? Have you any testicles under those trousers, or are you a woman in
disguise?” He reached forward to grab mockingly at Alfred’s chest. “You think
you can take me on? Come on, then! That is, if you’re man enough!”
"I said I don't want to fight," Alfred snapped, pushing the man's hand away
from his shirt. Why wasn't Arthur doing anything? He could really use some
help, especially since there was no way he could even think about fighting
someone much stronger than him.
Arthur looked the man over, and analyzed his build and demeanor. He was
muscular, more so than either of them, but he was also drunk, or at least
tipsy. Furthermore, his uniform was old and weathered, but it lacked any sort
of bloodstain or tears in places that would indicate it had been used in a
fight. There wasn’t any scarring around the visible areas of his body, and he
didn’t carry any sort of a weapon on him, meaning he was either low-ranking, or
worked on a vessel that traded in low-demand items on safe trade routes. It was
all built from labor, not from fighting, that much was certain.
“A real man knows how to handle a sword, wouldn’t you agree?” asked Arthur,
unsheathing his rapier. He set it on the table for Alfred. “Go on, then. Prove
yourself.”
"Wait I said I don't want to fight," Alfred said, eyeing the sword. He wasn't
as skilled with one as he was with a gun after all. Plus the other looked
rather big and muscular, like he could easily beat Alfred in a fight. "Arthur I
just want to enjoy our food without any problems." Plus he was worried that
fighting would get them kicked out.
“Yes, and you’re not going to be able to enjoy anything without fighting for
it,” said Arthur. Already, the muscular sailor had procured a sword of his own
from one of the other men in the bar, most of whom looked on eagerly for what
they were convinced would be a smackdown. “Trust in what I’ve taught you.” He
turned to the other man. The other patrons began pulling tables out of the way
to give them some space, and the owners looked on warily. “First to draw blood
wins.”
Alfred knew there was no getting out of this, standing up and picking up the
sword. “Fine, I’ll fight him,” he said, trying to hide his nervousness as he
got ready. He really wasn’t confident in his skills, doing better with the gun
than the sword.
The moment Alfred got to his feet, the drunk sailor lunged at him, his sword
outstretched. There was no rhyme or reason to his steps, beyond ‘forward.’ He
swung the sword widely, as though it were a broadsword, rather than a rapier.
Arthur rolled his eyes, his gun at the ready in case things went too far; he
was poised to shoot on the off-chance the man went for a killing blow.
Alfred was able to easily avoid the man’s swings, noticing his movements were
rather clumsy. Taking his chance he swung at the other man, barely missing.
“You seem a bit clunky,” he smiled, getting rather cocky.
Arthur rolled his eyes. Five seconds ago, Alfred had looked frightened, but one
successful parry and he was doing fine. The sailor didn’t take too kindly to
his words, of course, especially when the people who seemed to be his fellow
workers started laughing at him. He let out an inhuman roar and swung his arm
downwards.
Alfred barely managed to dodge that one, immediately swinging back and managing
to to slice across the man’s right arm. He grinned as he saw blood, knowing he
had won then. “Now will you just leave me alone?”
“RAAAAAAARGH!” screamed the drunken sailor, clearly as infuriated as he was
inebriated. He began swinging wildly, though none actually even came close to
hitting Alfred. Frustrated, he ran forward, clearly attempting to run the blade
right through the young blonde’s gut.
A scream escaped from Alfred as he jumped back, backing himself up against a
wall. “Hey stop, I’ve already won!” he screamed, glancing over at Arthur for
help.
Sure enough, Arthur jumped up, grabbed the weapon from Alfred’s hand, and began
parrying the man’s furious swings without so much as breaking a sweat. His face
remained tranquil, and his posture relaxed; for the next minute or so, he did
nothing but block until the drunken man tired himself out, and his fellow
sailors managed to grab him from behind and get the weapon out of his hands.
Sheepishly, they escorted him off the premises. The stunned crowd began to
cheer.
Alfred watched as Arthur fought the man off, watching with awe at how Arthur
was able to block all of the man’s swings. He was glad that was over though,
his stomach growling again at the thought of food. “Can we eat now?”
“After all that, your first thought is food?” asked Arthur, shaking his head
with exasperation. “Get back to the table.” Already, things in the tavern were
returning to normal, as though nothing ever happened. The pirate captain had a
sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t the first time a random fight had broken out,
especially seeing as the owner had seemed more intrigued than alarmed.
The waitress came to their table immediately after they were seated again, a
wooden board in hand with all sorts of food items atop it, including things
Arthur was pretty sure he hadn’t ordered; beyond the corn and a wide selection
of choice cuts, there were several different varieties of fruits and
vegetables. Arthur was about to protest when she spoke up:
“It’s all on the house, especially for a pair of strapping young men like
yourselves,” said the woman, winking at them both.
“Wow look at all the food,” Alfred said, reaching down and taking a bite of the
corn. “I wonder why she gave it to us for free?” he asked, mouth full of food.
Either way he wasn’t going to complain. “This all looks so good doesn’t it
Arthur? Especially after all the hardtack we’ve been eating.”
“I almost forgot how ignorant you are,” mused Arthur once the woman was out of
earshot. “Isn’t it obvious? She’s trying to get one or both of us to sleep with
her.” He rolled his eyes and took a bite out of what appeared to be fresh
turkey; it had been far too long since he’d eaten actual meat, and though he
didn’t voice it, he was in agreement with Alfred about how good the food
looked.
Alfred blushed a bit at that, almost choking on his food. “R-Really?” he asked,
glancing over at the woman. She was dressed a bit provocatively. “W-We don’t
have to do we?” He just wanted to eat his food.
“Hm, I thought you’d be more excited,” mused Arthur teasingly. “I can’t say I’m
surprised, though. Naturally, you would want to stay faithful to your spouse.”
He made sure to word it in such a way that anyone listening in would think that
Alfred was in a pure, wholesome relationship, young though he was.
“No, it’s just weird,” Alfred pouted, puffing his cheeks out as he stuffed his
mouth with more food. Why did everyone seem obsessed with sex? It made
absolutely no sense to him.
Arthur made sure to sample all of the meat. It wasn’t that he had some sort of
obsession; he just wanted to get a taste of all the shore had to offer before
setting sail again. Once his men were done unloading contraband and exchanging
it for what little money the colonies had to offer, they would probably spend
the rest of the night in the tavern, drinking their troubles away.
“I see you’re enjoying yourself,” mused Arthur, watching Alfred stuff his face
with morbid fascination. “Pig.”
Alfred was taken aback by the insult, swallowing what was in his mouth and
setting his fork down. “I-I’m not a pig,” he insisted, feeling a bit hurt by
that comment. He suddenly felt a bit self conscious of himself now, instead
taking a drink of his milk.
“So sensitive. I’m only teasing,” said Arthur, laughing. He wanted to call him
‘darling,’ or ‘love,’ but he couldn’t risk people growing suspicious about the
true nature of their relationship. He wasn’t about to end his life burned over
a faggot for homosexual tendencies.
Alfred pouted again, taking another bite this time of the meat. Arthur didn’t
need to say such mean things to him. He’d always been teased by his brother for
being a bit fatter he didn’t need the pirate doing it as well.
“Oh, don’t make that face,” said Arthur like a parent might scold their child.
“You’re a big boy now, and you can take a little joke with dignity.” He would
never quite get used to just how childish Alfred was. “I mean, you’re, what,
eighteen?” It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t know his pet’s actual
age. He could make an approximation, but he couldn’t pin it down for certain.
"I'm sixteen," Alfred said, realizing too that he had never told the other his
age. Still Arthur's joking felt more cruel than playful. He brushed it off
though, stabbing a piece of meat with is fork and shoving it in his mouth. He
wouldn't let an insult ruin his meal.
“Hm, you’re younger than I thought,” remarked Arthur, careful not to mention
Alfred’s parents on the off-chance he had to come up with another story to foil
his escape attempts. He wasn’t terribly concerned, though; he hadn’t attempted
to get away since he’d encountered Francis. “All the same, you’re too old to
pout.”
"Fine fine," Alfred muttered, mouth full of meat as he spoke. He didn't need to
be lectured by the other especially after just being called a pig. "Either way
this food is pretty good," he said, trying to change the subject.
Arthur was still mulling over Alfred’s age with disbelief; he could have sworn
that he was eighteen, at the youngest. Then again, when it came to a difference
of two years, it could get hard to tell. It wasn’t that he was guilty, or
anything. He would have kidnapped Alfred regardless of his age. It was just a
bit surprising.
“Oh, yes, it is,” agreed Arthur when he realized he’d been silent for an
extensive period of time.
Alfred was too distracted by the food to notice Arthur’s silence, now shoving
more corn in his mouth. “Do we still get pie afterwards? I hope it doesn’t cost
too much,” He’d feel a little bad if he made Arthur spend a lot of their money
but he had really been looking forward to that pie all day.
“Considering this was all free, of course we’re getting pie,” said Arthur,
chuckling a bit. It was beginning to make a bit more sense why Alfred was so
childish. He was still at that age where most normal people were finally taking
on adult responsibilities. He’d probably been helping out on the farm his whole
life, of course, but fifteen to sixteen was when a boy became a man.
Oh that was right, the barmaid had given them the free food. “Yeah but I feel
bad taking it for free,” Not that he wanted to have sex with her, but it did
seem unfair. “Should we pay her at least?”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “You’re too soft-hearted. Fine, if it means that much
to you, I’ll leave a little extra when we leave. But I’m not paying full
price.” It wasn’t as though he’d specifically ordered all of the extras. He
would give her the money for what he’d asked for, and that was it. His men
would laugh at him if they knew he was paying for something he’d gotten for
free just because his precious whore felt bad. “You will tell no one.”
Well that did make sense, after all she had given them the food without even
checking with them first. “Okay,” Alfred said, satisfied with that. “So what
should we do after we eat?” he asked, not wanting to go back to the ship
anytime soon.
“Well, I was thinking we could do something fun together that we can’t do on
the ship,” said Arthur, drumming his fingers on the table. “Do you know how to
ride? I believe there are some horses for rent not too far from here.” Not
everyone could afford their own horse, after all, even if they had to travel.
“It shouldn’t be terribly expensive as long as it’s only for the day.” It
wasn’t like they were hurting for money even if it was. Francis’ loot really
had been quite the haul.
Alfred smiled as he heard that. "Yeah, I used to ride," he said, trying to
ignore the part where it was always with his brother that he did ride. "It's
been awhile but I still remember how," it would be fun he figured, better than
being cooped up on Arthur's ship.
“Good. I could use a good ride. Strengthens the legs,” said Arthur, finishing
up the last of the meat, and moving on to some of the fresh vegetables they’d
been given ‘on the house.’ Frequent horseback riders had sturdy legs. And
occasionally scrotum injuries, but he preferred not to think about that.
Alfred was just excited to be riding a horse again, stabbing a few vegetables
and eating them. Not his favorite food but if it meant pie later he could eat
them. "Sounds great," he said, giving Arthur a smile.
At last, the vegetables were gone - Arthur, for all his terrible ways, did not
believe in wastefulness - and the waitress returned to take the wooden board
away.
“Anything else, boys?” she asked, rolling her hips suggestively, her bosom
uncomfortably close to Alfred’s cheek.
“Apple pie,” said Arthur flatly, not at all appreciative of his property being
messed with.
Alfred was visibly blushing at that, unable to take his eyes off of the woman's
chest. It was just so in his face and he had never seen any before it was
starting to make him a bit curious.
“Apple pie it is!” said the woman huskily, once she had Alfred interested.
Arthur was quick to put a stop to it.
“He’s married!” he snapped. “Isn’t that right, Alfred?”
The other sailors snickered, most of whom were probably shirking their duty of
faithfulness to their own wives back home.
"R-Right..." Alfred said, giving Arthur an awkward smile at that. It would be
nice to at least be with a woman once. He was a man after all. He shook the
thought from his mind, remembering that pie was coming soon. "So uh, I'm
excited to go riding later.”
“As you should be,” said Arthur, still sounding somewhat annoyed by the whole
thing. He would have to make sure that Alfred was put back into his place soon;
he couldn’t give the boy a single, solitary centimeter without him taking a
whole kilometer.
Alfred could tell Arthur was somewhat irritated, deciding to try and forget the
subject instead of argue. "Um, how long do you think we'll ride?" Anything to
break the awkward silence.
Arthur jammed his fork into the generously-sliced piece of pie he’d been
served, and popped it into his mouth. Its sweet taste didn’t do much to
counteract the bitter look on his face. He took his time chewing and
swallowing, wanting Alfred to know just how cross he was, and that it wasn’t
something he wanted to see again. “...At least an hour. Maybe more. It depends
on the prices.”
Alfred seriously had no idea why Arthur seemed so upset. It wasn’t his fault
the woman had been flirting with him. “I hope we can go for more, but even an
hour will still be fun,” he said, shoving a piece of pie in his mouth as well.
It tasted nice and sweet, helping him forget Arthur’s anger for a moment.
Gradually, Arthur’s irritation began to fade away as he watched Alfred eat.
Having spent the first several years of his life in a wealthy family, he’d
always been taught to eat slowly, but the lower-class folk never seemed to have
the same eye for manners. Even when he’d lost all semblance of his former
status, he’d always maintained some of the gentlemanly habits that had been
ingrained into him since his birth.
“It all depends. I’m going to need you to let me make the arrangements, though.
No offense, but you’re too soft-hearted to haggle,” he mused.
Alfred smiled at that, taking the small jab as a joke. “That’s fine. I figured
you would anyways,” As long as they got to go riding he was fine. He shoved
more pie in his mouth, chewing it slowly as he savored the flavor. “The pie is
really good isn’t it?”
“Definitely,” agreed Arthur, feeling like he was at a bit of a loss for how to
proceed. It had been ages since he’d last tried to make small talk with
someone. Most of his conversations with Alfred thus far had been orders,
suggestions, or advice during his training. He couldn’t exactly bring up his
family, and it wasn’t as though they had any mutual friends to talk about. “So,
umm, what sorts of things do you like doing in your free time?”
“I usually would go see the animals on the farm. I really like animals. I’d go
swimming too or read,” Alfred replied, eating more pie. He had led a rather
boring life until he met Arthur. “I liked history. It was always interesting.”
Arthur took another bite of the pie, looking thoughtful. “I used to have a
dog,” he said, resting his head on his hands. “I named him Peter.” The same
name as that so-called child of his. He still refused to believe that lying
whore. He’d pulled out, after all! “They shot him when they came to repossess
all our belongings, though.” He said it so casually, as though it didn’t even
bother him. It had, at first, but he’d gotten over it quickly enough. There was
little time to mourn between all the filthy jobs he’d been given.
Alfred thought that story sounded rather sad, the mood going down again. “I’m
sorry,” He mumbled, stuffing his face with more pie. “We had a few dogs too,
and some cats,” they were good for catching mice after all.
“No reason to be sorry. It isn’t your fault. He’d be dead by now, anyway,” said
Arthur with a shrug. He decided to address that last bit, in order to cheer
Alfred up; it seemed bizarre to him that his ‘wife’ appeared more torn up about
it than he was. “History, hm? I’m not terribly interested in history, though I
had to learn it, regardless. The story of humanity is just one great war after
another. Winners, and losers. This very land was stolen from savages.” Well, so
much for cheering anybody up. He wasn’t very good at ‘happy,’ it seemed.
“Yeah that is true,” Alfred said, even remembering how he had read how the
British had taken the land from the native savages. Arthur sure knew how to
turn the mood more sour by the minute. Still he knew the pirate wasn’t doing it
on purpose. “So your dog’s name was Peter?”
“Yes, he was a pointer. My father intended for me to train him for use during
hunts,” answered Arthur, deciding to just let Alfred guide the conversation. He
wasn’t very bright, but he was certainly more optimistic. “I did my best, but
he was as lazy as could be. It was a struggle to get him out the door.” When
they lost all their money, nobody wanted the dog, and there was no way Arthur
could take him with him where he was being sent, so the adults in his life had
decided to eliminate the problem.
Alfred frowned as he listened, feeling bad for the pirate. He was almost
finished with his slice of pie now, wondering if it would be bad to ask for
more. He’d wait to see what Arthur did, not wanting to appear like a glutton in
front of the man, even if he’d already given off the impression earlier.
Arthur didn’t have to be asked; he was full, himself, and he could see the
disappointed look on Alfred’s face as he realized the pie was almost gone.
Without another word, he pushed his own towards his captive. “Do you want this?
I’m not hungry.”
“Are you sure?” Alfred asked, taking the plate before even hearing an answer.
He’d never turn down free pie. He dug his fork into the slice, eating up what
Arthur left behind.
“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have given it to you,” answered Arthur, deciding
not to point out that if Alfred was really so concerned, he could have waited
for an answer before he began to dig in.
Alfred smiled, finishing up Arthur’s half-eaten slice of pie as well. “That was
really good,” he said, wanting to thank the barmaid but a bit scared to do so
in case he made Arthur mad again.
“It was indeed,” agreed Arthur, his eyes narrowing slightly as the waitress
returned to take everything back. Despite his reluctance, he reached into his
pocket and pulled out a small gold nugget and pressed it into her hand.
“Oh, my!” she said, appearing surprised. “Is this real?”
“You can bite it, if you must,” answered Arthur. “Only the real thing is soft
enough for that to leave a mark.”
A look of sorrow came over her face, and she bit the nugget to test it out.
“Funny, that’s just what my husband was going on about just before he left for
California. Dropped everything from his house to his wife on the off-chance
he’d strike it rich out there panning for gold.” She snorted. “I hope he chokes
on it, the bastard. Thanks, honey. You’re too sweet.” She blew a kiss in
Arthur’s direction and strolled off.
Arthur pursed his lips. He’d heard of the gold rush going on over there. Heck,
he’d raided some of the ships coming over from all over the world, only to find
that they were just poor peasants spending the last of their money on a pipe
dream. Last he’d heard, most of the people who’d come over had been stranded,
the mines having been sucked dry. A smirk crossed his face. That was what they
got for not having some sort of a back-up plan.
Alfred listened to their conversation, feeling bad for the poor barmaid. He had
heard a bit about the gold rush, being told by his parents that it was for
sinners who were full of greed. “So, should we go riding now?” He asked,
looking over at Arthur. He was really excited to be able to get on a horse
again, especially after being on a ship for so long.
“Now’s as good a time as any,” agreed Arthur, rising out of his seat. He
stretched, and made sure the sword he’d taken back from Alfred was properly
secured in its sheath. After that, he checked to make sure nobody had tried to
pick his pockets while he’d been focused on other things. “Come on, then.”
Alfred stood up as well, stomach feeling rather full. Riding would be a bit
difficult with so much food in him but he knew he couldn’t complain. After all
he did pig out a bit earlier. “I hope it’s not too expensive, I’d love to be
able to ride for quite awhile.”
“I’m sure he’ll accept what we have,” Arthur assured him, strolling out of the
tavern. It had been a long time since he’d eaten food that good. Usually he
just stuck to the harbor. It had been at least two years since the last time
he’d been in that particular port, so he hoped that the stable was still there.
“It’s not far from here, so we shouldn’t have to walk long.”
Alfred nodded, following Arthur along out of the tavern. The day really did
seem to be going well, even Arthur was now in a better mood than he was before.
It really was a shame that he would have to go back to the ship after this
though, he much preferred dry land.
It didn’t take long for them to reach the stable.
“Two horses,” said Arthur, holding out a handful of gold; he didn’t expect to
actually spend it all, but he suspected the man would want a deposit to make
sure they came back. He figured what he had was more than adequate. “Just for
today.” He made sure to count the nuggets he was giving the man, just to make
sure he didn’t give back less than was owed later on.
“Sorry, only got one left,” said the owner, eyeing the gold almost hungrily.
“He’s a sturdy sort, though, if you both need to ride. I’ll even let you borrow
the cart…”
“It’s for pleasure, not business,” said Arthur, retracting his hand and looking
at Alfred. “Well, what do you think?”
“One horse is fine,” Alfred said, not wanting to give up what he had been
looking forward to. As much as he wanted to ride on his own horse sharing one
wouldn’t be so bad. It was mainly just riding out in the fresh air that he had
been looking forward to.
“Very well. One horse it is,” said Arthur, giving the man the gold; a relieved
look came over his bearded face as he took the payment. “I hope that’s a good
enough deposit for you.”
“What? Oh, yes, deposit, right,” said the man, his eyes turning downcast. “He’s
the only stallion left. Tack’s on the wall. Have a good ride.”
Alfred was rather giddy with excitement, following Arthur back to the stable.
“Oh man I’m so excited I haven’t been riding in forever,” he said, wondering
what kind of horse it would be. “I hope it is strong enough to hold both of us
though,”
The horse, as it turned out, was fairly big, and Arthur had little doubt that
it could hold the both of them without a problem. He couldn’t recognize the
breed, but whatever it was, it wasn’t built for casual riding so much as it was
built for pulling carts and plows. Its hooves alone seemed capable of crushing
his head beneath them.
“Not bad,” he mused, grabbing some of the tack off of the wall and tossing it
over to Alfred. “Come on, let’s get him ready. I’ll do the saddle, you adjust
the reins.”
Alfred did as he was told with ease. “He looks more like the type or horse to
carry carts,” he mused, not really minding all that much. As long as it was
tame and could hold the both of them he was fine. “Do you wanna ride up front
or should I?”
“I’ll ride up front, thank you very much,” said Arthur firmly. If Alfred
behaved, though… “I might let you have a turn if you behave, though.” He
tightened up the saddle; he’d fallen over one too many times. Once you came
close to breaking your neck, you never made that mistake again. Or at the very
least, you tried to take every possible precaution against it.
Alfred didn’t mind riding in back, he had assumed Arthur would make him
anyways. Once Arthur had gotten up he hoisted himself up on the horse as well,
hands wrapping around Arthur’s stomach.
Arthur squeezed his legs, holding the riding crop along with the reins; it was
difficult for him to forget something he’d spent his whole childhood doing, out
of practice though he was. He gave its side a light jab, automatically ducking
under the piece of wood overhead that marked the stall; some people just led
the horse out, but that would have been far less fun.
Alfred ducked as well, smiling as the horse led them out. It felt a bit strange
to be so close to Arthur like this, his arms wrapped around the man’s torso as
he leaned in close. “So where are you taking us?”
A few people stared briefly at the position as they exited the stable, but
didn’t pay it too much heed, perhaps assuming that Alfred was still learning to
ride. “There’s a flower field not too far from here, if I remember correctly.”
It was somewhat surprising, since most of the area was farmland, but the word
was that it had been the property of a man who exhausted the area with tobacco.
For those without the money to rotate anything, it would be worthless for the
next few years. “We’ll be able to take him for a real ride there.”
Arthur gave the horse another kick, and it sped up, going into a trot, which
was by far his least-favorite pace. The constant bouncing wasn’t really worth
the slight boost in speed; an actual gallop was far smoother. For that reason,
he made sure to give the animal another kick as soon as things ahead of them
were clear. In that instant, the beast took off.
Alfred held on as the horse trotted off. It had been awhile since he had been
riding and even longer since he had ridden with someone else on the same horse.
His body was close to Arthur’s, the galloping of the horse only helping to
press his body more against the pirate’s. It felt oddly good, his body pressed
against the other’s as the cool wind blew through his hair. The stimulation
from the horse’s movements as well as being so close to Arthur was starting to
affect his body, hoping Arthur wouldn’t notice that something was poking him in
the back.
It wasn’t long until they were far out of sight or earshot of anyone else; the
horse raced down the grassy slope at a surprisingly good pace for something so
bulky. Arthur couldn’t quite put his hand on it, but something felt off. At
first, he thought that perhaps it was the saddle. Most of the riding he’d done
had been back on the mainland, with a particular style of saddle. He’d never
actually used a western one before, though he’d heard about them. Something
about them having a piece that stuck up called a horn; it was an embarrassingly
limited knowledge, but it had never been something that the situation called
for him to learn. Still, he was pretty sure the horn went in front, and that it
was, in fact, the thing sticking up in front of him.
It was only after they’d begun riding into the woods that Arthur pulled back to
slow the horse down, allowing himself a chance to get a better idea as to just
what the thing was. As the realization dawned on him, a sly smirk crossed his
face.
“So,” he said, in as innocent a voice as he could manage. “Is that what you
westerners call the ‘horn?’ ”
“H-Huh?” Alfred asked, having not been paying much attention to his
surroundings, only focusing on trying to control his urges. “Oh..” he suddenly
realized, face turning red. “S-So you can feel it huh?” He felt humiliated,
getting turned on just by simply riding a horse with Arthur. It felt good
though, to have his cock rubbing against the other. It made him briefly wonder
if Arthur would ever let him penetrate him.
“Of course I can feel it; I’ve been feeling it for the past mile,” answered
Arthur, not letting on that he’d only just then figured out exactly what it
was. “Such a naughty boy, you are. Had I known that a horse was all it took to
get you excited, I’d have done this ages ago. Unless…” He grinned ear to ear,
wishing he could afford to turn his head to see the look on Alfred’s face
without getting hit by a branch. “Don’t tell me it’s the horse you want inside
you?”
Alfred’s eyes opened wide as he heard that last part, unable to believe what
Arthur had just said. “N-No, that’s disgusting!” Alfred practically shouted.
Still, Arthur’s words were turning him on a bit. “Um, I-I’d rather, maybe see
what it would be like to,” he paused at that, hoping that what he was about to
say wouldn’t upset the pirate. “To maybe be inside you.”
The smile faded from Arthur’s face. He pulled back on the reins, and the horse
came to a halt.
“Excuse me?” he said, his words laced with such venom that it seemed to poison
the very air around them. “What did you just say?” He turned his head, his eyes
like sharpened knives. “After all I’ve done for you, you dare to insult me like
that?”
“N-No I was just asking,” Alfred said, feeling his heart skip a beat as Arthur
spoke. He knew it was a mistake to ask, instantly regretting his actions. “I-
I was just curious is all, I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
Unfortunately for Alfred, Arthur went on as though he hadn’t even heard him.
“Do you know what I went through to rescue you from Francis, Alfred? It matters
little for you; you’re not in charge of anything. But I was degraded in front
of my entire crew! Me! Their leader! Stacked on top of my own bedmate like some
common slut!” The horse began moving forward again, slowly, to munch on some of
the nearby grass while they spoke. “But I forgave you. I thought that maybe
you’d learned your lesson. That you understood that I went through all that
because I cared about you. And now, you have the gall to ask that I, your
captain, your husband, and your owner, submit myself to you?”
“I-I’m sorry, just forget I said anything okay?” Alfred said, tears starting to
run down his face. It had been such a good day too, he was so angry at himself
for ruining it. “Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Oh, Alfred, when are you going to realize that I can’t just forget
transgressions?” sighed Arthur, shaking his head. He jerked the reins up,
forcing the horse’s head away from its snack. It shook its head, irritated, and
continued onwards. “You will be punished for your insolence, that much is
certain.” He stared down at the riding crop in his hand as he rode onward. It
would have to wait until they reached the meadow, where nobody else was around;
not too many people in the area had time for such leisurely activities, after
all, and those who did preferred to spend their time in town.
Alfred began to cry as he heard that, wishing he could go back and stop himself
from even bringing it up. “I’m sorry, I won’t ever ask that again,” he sobbed,
face buried against Arthur’s back as they rode on. “Please forgive me.”
“I’ll forgive you if you stop crying and take your punishment with dignity.
Honestly,” scoffed Arthur, shaking his head. It was good that the punishments
were effective enough that Alfred didn’t like them - as some did - but hearing
him sob and whine about it was terribly annoying. Had he any semblance of a
brain, he wouldn’t be in this mess. “Now, do you want to see the flowers, or
not? I didn’t come all this way just for you to be blinded by tears.”
Alfred did his best to calm down, knowing there was nothing he could do about
his punishment. “Yeah, I do,” he whimpered, wiping his eyes with his hands. He
could at least somewhat enjoy their outing.
“Good,” said Arthur, ducking under another branch.
At last, the horse stepped out into a clearing, with no trees overhead for
almost as far as the eye could see. Above, there was nothing but open space,
and only a few little puffs of white dared to fill the bright blue sky. The
ground was awash with color; blues, reds, pinks, yellows, and more were
scattered across the field like a painting. Arthur squinted as his eyes
adjusted to the harsh light after traveling under the shade of the forest.
Alfred had to admit it was rather beautiful, flowers covering the ground as the
horse trotted into the area. It was making him feel a bit better, his tears
stopping. “It’s pretty here,” he said, voice quiet as he talked.
As sappy as it was, Arthur was hoping to cheer Alfred up a bit; “Not as pretty
as you,” he replied, giving the horse a light kick to get it moving towards the
center of the clearing, instead of standing idly to munch on the plant life.
Alfred blushed a bit at that, the comment did cheer him up a bit. “Thanks,” he
mumbled, leaning against Arthur’s back as the horse walked along. It almost
made him forget about Arthur’s outburst earlier.
“You know,” said Arthur, stopping the horse again; the animal snorted and went
back to trying to eat the flowers, uninterested in their conversation. “Nobody
ever comes out here. We could take care of that problem of yours.”
Alfred sighed, he should have known this good feeling wouldn’t have lasted too
long. Still, it was better to get it over with. “Sure, we can,” he muttered,
holding in his tears. As soon as they got it done the better.
“Oh, don’t sound so upset. I thought the ride had you all hot and bothered,”
said Arthur, swinging his leg carefully over the horse’s head so as not to hit
it or Alfred, then landing on the ground with a dull ‘thud.’ In hindsight, it
would have been funny to make his ‘wife’ ride side-saddle. Then again, that
might have drawn unwanted attention back in town.
Alfred got off of the horse as well, his cock still a bit hard even after
Arthur's outburst earlier. "It is nice here," he said, looking around. He could
almost enjoy the moment if he wasn't worried about his punishment.
“Quite a romantic atmosphere, wouldn’t you agree?” asked Arthur, firmly
smacking Alfred’s rear to reassert himself, especially after such an awful
question. “It’s almost strange after all my time at sea to feel ground beneath
me that isn’t rocking back and forth.”
A yelp escaped Alfred as his ass was suddenly smacked, blushing deeply. "It is
really nice," he said, almost wanting to just lay down in the cool grass
beneath them.
Arthur reached up to wrap his arms around Alfred’s neck, then pulled him into a
kiss, simultaneously dragging him down to the ground. The horse turned to look
at them for a moment or so, then turned its head and continued its feast of
dandelions. For a moment, Arthur was concerned that it would try to run away,
but it wasn’t long before its eyes closed, and its head drooped down for a nap.
Alfred was now sitting among the flowers, almost wondering if Arthur was
actually going to punish him. The kiss seemed so gentle, Alfred awkwardly
kissing back. He couldn't afford to upset Arthur any more after all.
Arthur pressed his tongue past Alfred’s lips, his cock already growing stiff in
his trousers, yearning to fill his tight hole. He barely even minded the fact
that his good clothes were getting covered in dirt as he began to unbutton
Alfred’s shirt. When he broke the kiss at last, he licked up every last drop of
saliva from his lips.
“Tastes like apple pie,” he commented.
Alfred shivered as the cool air hit his chest, letting Arthur take control of
the kiss. "Well, I ate it earlier," he said, face bright red. Arthur was being
almost romantic, it felt strange but he didn't mind. Much better than when
Arthur was violent.
Arthur rolled his eyes. Alfred wasn’t really picking up on the whole ‘sweet
nothings’ thing. Nor had he figured out dirty talk. Well, good things came to
those who waited. “You have such a lovely face. If there’s one thing I must
make sure never to damage, it’s this,” he purred, kissing Alfred’s cheek and
pushing him onto his back. “I bet it’ll look even better while I’m fucking you
senseless. Isn’t that right?” He was already between Alfred’s legs, dry-humping
his clothed posterior.
Alfred groaned at the friction, spreading his legs for the other. Arthur's
words were going straight to his cock, already leaking a bit of precum against
his trousers. "Yeah," he whimpered, shutting his eyes.
At long last, he managed to get Alfred unbuttoned, and slid his hands beneath
the white undershirt to play with his sensitive nipples. “Are you going to cry
out for me? Are you going to beg for my cock as though your life depended on
it?” He gave them both a tug, and lightly twisted them just enough to be felt
without being overly painful.
Alfred squirmed as his chest was toyed with, a moan escaping his throat. "P-
Please, fuck me," he begged, doing what Arthur wanted. He'd be lying though if
he were to say he didn't want it, his cock painful against the fabric of his
trousers.
Much as he wanted to rip them off, Arthur knew they needed something to wear on
the way back - he’d had to sneak naked back to his ship one time too many - so
he began to unbutton Alfred’s trousers. “Kick your shoes off. They’ll just get
in the way.”
Alfred nodded, using his heels to slip his shoes off, lifting his ass up so
Arthur could pull down his pants. "No one's gonna find us, right?" He asked,
looking around the small clearing they were in.
“Nobody has any reason to come here, and they never do,” Arthur assured him,
though he would be lying if he said that the thrill of doing something where
someone could potentially catch them wasn’t exciting. “People don’t have time
to go riding through meadows.” He tossed the clothing aside, in the direction
of the horse.
Well, that was true. Even back in Alfred’s old village not very many people
rode out to meadows unless they were a young couple trying to hide from their
parents. He was curious though if Arthur was going to punish him for earlier,
so far the man was acting like it had never happened.
Arthur quickly stripped off the remainder of Alfred’s clothing, strewing it
about the meadow. Even if someone were to pass by, he had a gun, and he would
just interrogate them until he had enough to threaten them with if they talked.
Of course, he could kill them, too, but that would upset Alfred.
“Now,” he said, holding up the riding crop he’d set aside. “Why don’t we play a
little game? You get on your hands and knees.”
Alfred eyed the crop, taking a deep breath before getting over on his hands and
knees like he was told. Arthur didn’t seem too angry, maybe it would all be
over soon. “Is this okay?” he asked, facing away from the other.
“Perfect,” said Arthur. He swung his leg over Alfred’s back, and sat his own
bare bottom down upon it. “There, now you’re just like a noble steed!”
Alfred grunted as Arthur’s weight pushed on his back. He didn’t dare open his
mouth to say anything, knowing he should just accept his punishment with
dignity.
“Well, not quite like a noble steed…” mused Arthur. He glanced around for
something to use; there was a piece of rope hanging out of one of the
saddlebags that he hadn’t paid much heed earlier; presumably, it was to tie it
up in the event that a hitching post was unavailable. He got up just long
enough to grab it, then sat back down to tie it into a loop. “Take this into
your mouth,” he said, dangling it down in front of his head. “A noble steed
needs reigns.”
Well, so much for dignity Alfred thought to himself, opening his mouth and
biting down on the rope. Thank god no one was around, at least while alone he
wouldn’t have to be humiliated as badly.
The horse had woken back up in the brief period of time Arthur had messed with
the bags, and it stared at Alfred with a look that could only be described as
confusion. The following noises from its throat sounded suspiciously like
laughter, but that was impossible, when a dumb animal was involved, right?
Arthur pulled back on his makeshift ‘reigns,’ forcing Alfred to tilt his head
upwards. “You know, some wealthy men and women have taken to using a special
piece of equipment to keep their horses’ heads up high. Can you imagine pulling
a cart like that?” he asked, snickering. “Come on. Get a move on.” He struck
Alfred’s bottom with the crop.
Alfred yelped as he was suddenly smacked, head straining back as Arthur pulled
on the rope. Slowly he moved his arms and legs, moving forward. It was hard to
do with Arthur’s weight on him, his body aching as he inched forward.
Arthur certainly wasn’t about to make things easier on him; he dug his heels
into the dirt to hold Alfred back, and struck his bottom several more times
before the unfortunate captive was able to move so much as ten centimeters
across the ground.
“I-I’m having trouble moving,” Alfred groaned through the rope, arms shaking as
he held the both of them up. He managed to creep a few inches further, knowing
he’d be rather sore in the morning.
“You want to be a man, don’t you? Men are strong. Men carry the weak,” said
Arthur, striking him again. “Men lead. Men control. If you aren’t strong
enough, then you’ll just have to admit that you’re a woman.”
Alfred didn’t want to admit he was a woman, groaning again as he moved them a
bit forward. He was so glad Arthur was smaller than him, plus all the years
working on the farm had toughened him up a bit. “N-No, I can do it.” he said,
voice muffled.
“Oh, really?” said Arthur, lifting his heels off of the ground to make things a
little more fair, while simultaneously putting his full weight on Alfred’s
back. “How about we have a little bet, then? If you can make it all the way
across this field, I’ll acknowledge your manhood, and you can fuck me for as
long as you want.” It was an impossible feat; the field was massive, and the
rocks would be terribly painful under his palms.
Alfred looked around the meadow, knowing already that it would be impossible to
do. He was already so sore and he’d barely even moved. Trying his best to hold
his tears in Alfred started to move, knowing he couldn’t give up yet. Still,
after about a foot of moving he was ready to collapse.
“How weak,” said Arthur, shaking his head as Alfred struggled in vain. “As is
to be expected. Didn’t I tell you? Women aren’t strong. They exist to support
their husbands. I’ve been giving you lessons to use against other, weaker men,
but you will never best me, and I will not acknowledge your manhood unless you
can. You’re my wife, and you’re meant to do as you’re told.”
Alfred did his best to nod. “I-I’m sorry,” he said again, hoping Arthur could
understand what he was saying. He just wanted it all to end and Arthur to go
back to his normal self. Today had been going so well until he had to open his
big mouth.
Arthur pulled the rope out of Alfred’s mouth. “Then tell me what I want to
hear. Say that you’re my submissive, docile wife, and that it’s your duty to be
faithful to your husband.” He would keep drilling it into his stupid head until
he, too, finally started to believe it to be true. Humanity was a simple
species; all one had to do was overpower another with your view and pressure
them into accepting it for the sake of staying out of trouble. From there, it
was only a matter of time before they truly adopted the same beliefs.
“I-I’m your submissive wife, I’m loyal to you,” Alfred whimpered, trying to
keep himself from sobbing. He didn’t want to appear any weaker to Arthur than
he already was after all. “I-I’ll do anything you want.”
At last, Arthur got off of Alfred’s back, and set the crop aside. The horse
seemed to regard the display with bemusement, though it was impossible to get
inside of the animal’s head to see what it really thought. It wasn’t like it
was a unicorn. Unicorns were far more intelligent.
“Good,” said Arthur. He reached up and began petting Alfred’s hair. “Now, why
don’t you just stay in that position? Part your legs a little more, though.” He
pulled his hand away, scooted around behind Alfred, and fondled his bottom.
Alfred nodded, resting his upper body against the grass as he spread his legs
more. His muscles would be sore later but it was his own fault and he knew it.
Arthur rubbed the head of his cock up and down the crack of Alfred’s behind,
determined to show him once and for all who was in charge. “I want you to beg
for me. But I don’t want you to call me by my name. You’re to refer to me as
‘captain.’ Do I make myself clear?”
"Yes, captain," Alfred groaned, resisting the urge to grind back against the
other. "Please fuck me captain," he was getting aroused again, his cock having
gone flaccid from the ordeal just earlier.
Arthur pressed the tip in briefly, then pulled it back out. Alfred wasn’t quite
as unrelentingly tight as he’d once been, but he still needed some form of
lubrication, so the pirate spat in his hand and did his best to coat his
captive’s needy hole in saliva. “How naughty. Have you no shame, being exposed
like this? Out in the open?”
“N-No one else is here,” Alfred whimpered, a low moan escaping his throat. It
wasn’t like Arthur would stop even if he said it was too embarrassing to be
doing this where they could be caught.
“And what would you do if we were caught, I wonder?” asked Arthur, licking his
lips. He pushed his fingers in and out of Alfred’s entrance. There was
something thrilling about the prospect of being found. Not that he was afraid
of the consequences; he was fairly confident that he could control whatever
resulted. It was just a fun sensation.
Alfred wasn’t sure what he would do. “S-Scare them away or something,” he
answered, groaning and rolling his hips back against Arthur’s fingers. Unlike
Arthur the idea of being found to Alfred was frightening, and he really didn’t
understand why said risk seemed appealing to Arthur.
“And when they inevitably tried to have us arrested for such unholy acts?”
inquired Arthur, as amused as ever by Alfred’s lack of forethought. Someday it
was going to get him into serious trouble. Oh, what was he saying? It already
had. He licked Alfred’s nose.
“W-Well, we would just hurry back to the ship,” Alfred said, cringing as the
man’s tongue touched his nose. “Th-There isn’t really much else we could do.”
“We could kill them,” said Arthur, as though it were an obvious course of
action that he was ashamed of Alfred for not thinking of. He stroked the once-
pure colonist’s length, and pressed his fingertips against the spot that would
make him moan beneath him like the whore he was.
Alfred did moan as Arthur's hands teased him, precum leaking from the tip of
his cock. "N-No.." he whimpered, wishing Arthur wouldn't talk about such
things.
“That’s ‘no, captain,’ to you,” said Arthur as he rubbed his fingers against
Alfred’s sensitive prostate, then pulled them out to make room for his length.
“Are you ready?” he asked, the tip already up against his needy partner.
Even if Alfred were to say no he knew Arthur would just shove in anyways. “Y-
Yes captain,” he mumbled, face buried in his arms.
Hearing that word come from Alfred’s lips made Arthur wonder why he hadn’t made
him use it sooner. In a single motion, he pushed himself all the way in, held
tightly in place by Alfred’s comfortable heat.
Alfred groaned out as he was penetrated, a burning sensation shooting up his
spine as he was stretched. At least the other had bothered to prepare him
before Alfred told himself, knowing the pain would die down soon.
“I love it when you make those faces,” said Arthur, laughing; despite the
angle, he could still see his reactions by leaning over to the side. He was
quite fond of Alfred’s face; every contour was smooth and symmetrical,
undamaged by broken bones or unsightly scars. “You’re as pretty as the fae
folk.” He hoped none of the elves or fairies were around to hear him say that.
To compare a human to their beauty upset them quite a bit. The last time he’d
dared to insult them in such a way, they’d cursed him with bad luck, and he
lost seventeen men to a privateer.
The fae folk? Alfred resisted the urge to tell the other that fairies and elves
didn’t exist but he was smarter than that after all. “Ah, oh god,” he moaned,
biting his lower lip to keep from being too loud.
“There you go taking the Lord’s name in vain again,” mused Arthur, though by
that point in time, he had a feeling that Alfred wasn’t quite as concerned
about such things. With Alfred’s little period of adjustment done and over with
- as far as he was concerned, at least - the pirate began to move his hips.
Arthur was right, Alfred really didn’t care anymore. He had sinned so much by
now such a thing as taking the lord’s name in vain meant nothing to him. Alfred
gasped as the other began to move, hips starting to roll back against Arthur.
“Do you like that?” asked Arthur smugly, pleased by his pet’s progress. It was
slow, slow going, but they’d finally reached a point where Alfred wasn’t quite
so uptight. “This is worlds better than that whore back at the tavern would
have been, isn’t it?”
“Y-Yes captain,” Alfred moaned, shutting his eyes and letting himself get
absorbed in the pleasure. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what being with a
woman would be like, it was too bad he’d never get the chance to try it.
“That’s right. You don’t need people like her,” said Arthur, shaking his head
and ruthlessly slamming his pelvis against Alfred’s firm behind. Besides, the
problem with sleeping with women was that they really could get pregnant, as
he’d had to learn the hard way. Not that he hadn’t known, but, well, he’d been
young and drunk. It hadn’t exactly been in the forefront of his mind.
Alfred groaned as he was slammed into, cock hard and leaking a bit of precum.
Still, it would just be nice to be with a woman, or at least be the one
penetrating Arthur at least once. It felt so unfair that he had to be the woman
every single time.
Arthur wrapped one arm up around Alfred’s body to reach for the pink nubs of
his chest. “I’m never going to let you get away from me,” he breathed.
Unfortunately, the height difference meant he couldn’t reach Alfred’s neck from
their position, but he made sure to make up for that by tugging at the
sensitive parts he could reach with is hands. “You’ll be mine forever.”
Alfred pushed back against the other, whimpering as Arthur toyed with his
chest. “Ah..” he gasped, wishing Arthur would touch his cock instead.
“Don’t make me have to kill you,” panted Arthur, as the horse looked on with
bored eyes. Much as he hated to admit it, he was growing rather attached to his
Puritan pet, though he supposed he couldn’t really call himself a Puritan any
longer. “I don’t want to lose you like the others.” People responded well to
praise. “You’re special.” And flattery.
Alfred was rather taken aback by those words, eyes opening wide in shock. “B-
But, I haven’t done anything wrong,” he whimpered, wondering if he had somehow
done something to make the pirate angry. Well, aside from asking to top not
that long ago.
“Of course you haven’t. That’s why I’m telling you this,” said Arthur, stroking
his sides in a manner that could almost be described as tenderly. Of all the
captives he’d taken, Alfred had proven the most successful, in terms of his
training progress. “I don’t like hurting you. I hate it when you do things that
force me to punish you. I want nothing more than to spoil you rotten. So, I
will reiterate… Don’t make me kill you. It’s something I never want to have to
do.” It would be fairly disappointing if he had to start from scratch.
Alfred nodded, Arthur’s words worrying him, reminding him that the pirate would
and could kill him at any time if he were to mess up. “I-I’ll be good, I swear
captain,” he groaned, unable to stop the small noises of pleasure from escaping
his throat.
“I know you will, because you’re my good little pet,” said Arthur, pulled
Alfred towards him with every thrust of his hips, spearing his hole with all
his might, each thrust carefully angled to press right up against his prostate.
“And an incredible fuck, at that. You take it so well now. No more whining, or
complaining.”
Alfred could only moan some more, eyes shut and head resting against the cool
grass. It did hurt much less now that he was used to it, his own cock leaking a
bit of precum, desperately aching to be touched.
“Such a dirty whore,” said Arthur, though he spoke it more like a term of
endearment than an insult. “Do you want to take the horse? Think of how far it
would stretch you.” Had Alfred talked back after he’d been disciplined for his
terribly offensive suggestion, Arthur would have made him take the horse. Not
that his pet needed to know that.
“N-No!” Alfred screamed, disgusted by the very idea of having a horse inside of
him. “That’s disgusting.” How could Arthur even think of such things? Surely he
had never done it before right?
“Oh, really, now?” said Arthur, his hips jerking forward just a bit harder than
usual. “You wouldn’t even do it if I ordered you to? You would disobey your
captain?” He didn’t expect Alfred to like it, but he did expect him to obey
orders when they were given.
Alfred had no idea what to say to that, grunting at the harsh thrust. “I-I d-
don’t know,” he whimpered, face buried in the cool grass beneath him. He hated
crying like this but he was terrified Arthur would go through with what he was
saying.
“I’ll tell you, then,” said Arthur, using his hand to give Alfred’s cock a
painful squeeze. “You would obey me, or I would tie you down and make you do it
anyway. If I tell you to bend over for a stallion, you will bend over.” He
would have just let it drop had Alfred said ‘yes,’ but he couldn’t just drop it
after that response. “And I believe you’re supposed to be addressing me as
captain, is that not correct?”
“Yes captain,” Alfred whimpered, hips jerking forward into Arthur’s touch. “I-
I’ll do whatever you want captain,” hopefully the pirate would let it drop if
he just agreed. There was no use arguing after all.
“There’s a good lad,” purred Arthur. As a reward, he gently stroked Alfred’s
cock, and returned to the steady pace he’d had before. “You know your place,
don’t you?” If he killed Alfred, he would have to keep more than the teeth. He
was his favorite thus far, and he wanted more than just an offering to the
fairies. Perhaps he would keep his skull. He always liked to admire his facial
structure, after all. It would look lovely on his table.
Alfred tried to take his mind off of the horse, eyes shut as Arthur stroked his
cock. “Ah,” he moaned, hips jerking forward in pleasure with each thrust of
Arthur’s cock. “Y-Yes captain.”
“...Maybe your ribs, too,” murmured Arthur, still deep in thought. After all,
given their situation, it wasn’t completely impossible for Alfred to end up
dead. Even if he was obedient and didn’t have to be executed, there was still
the possibility that he would be killed in a raid, or some such thing. “You
have such a nice rib cage…”
What was Arthur talking about? Alfred really had no idea. He figured it’d be
best not to ask, whatever it was he was sure would be messed up. Instead he
simply focused on the pleasure building up inside him, his moans getting louder
with each thrust.
Arthur kept moving his hand up and down. He wanted to be closer to Alfred.
Deeper inside his body. There was a rising temptation to cut him open and wear
his skin as a coat. The thought of how close the two of them would be was
absolutely intoxicating, like a bottle of liquor. A shame it would be so
bloody. Such a mess it would make. He would come out sticky and uncomfortable.
It wasn’t long until Alfred came, a loud groan escaping his throat as he
spilled his seed onto the grass beneath him. He was breathing heavily now,
tired and now just waiting until Arthur finished as well.
Arthur’s seed filled him barely a moment later, until his intestines were just
as sticky and uncomfortable as the pirate’s fantasies. He gave Alfred’s round
bottom a firm, affectionate pat, and looked around to make sure that they were
still alone. Even if someone were in the area, they would have to get close to
see them; the flowers were fairly tall, and obscured people who were laying
down from sight.
“Good boy,” said Arthur, idly looking down at his legs. A few black ticks has
latched onto his bare skin. He’d almost forgotten that such things existed back
on land. “We’ll have to get some alcohol to put on these.”
Alfred opened his eyes and looked down at his legs, cringing as he saw the
small black bugs attached to his skin. “Ew,” he muttered, draping an arm over
his face. It wasn’t his first time having ticks but it didn’t make it any less
gross.
“Well, that’s what happens when you have sex in the grass,” mused Arthur,
somewhat amused by Alfred’s displeased expression. “They could be in worse
places.” Just to be sure, he felt around his privates - or not so privates,
seeing as they were exposed outside for the world to see - to make sure that
none of them had gotten into any REALLY unpleasant spots. He breathed a little
sigh of relief when he realized they hadn’t; sure, he’d faced far worse things,
but that was just disgusting. He gave Alfred’s a brief look-over, too, and made
sure to spread his legs to inspect the crack of his posterior. He didn’t spend
a lot of time on land, but he knew enough to understand that those things liked
to hide in places they weren’t likely to be discovered. “You’re good. Start
getting dressed. We’ll get them off when we get to the ship.”
Alfred really didn’t want to wait to get the damn bugs off of him, standing up
and starting to put his clothes back on. His backside and muscles were rather
sore, Alfred doing his best to hide his pain, wincing a bit as he slipped his
trousers on. He really wasn’t looking forward to the ride back either, knowing
sitting on the horse would just hurt his ass even more.
Despite himself, Arthur couldn’t help but feel a little bad about the sour look
on Alfred’s face. Determined to at least slightly alleviate the problem, he
reached up to pat the horse’s saddle. It was either incredibly loyal, lazy, or
otherwise perverted, because it had barely moved an inch since he’d left it.
“I know you’re probably sore, but you can steer on the way back.” He knew from
experience that it probably wasn’t the best consolation he could offer. “Next
port, I’m going to get us separate horses, and you can ride to your heart’s
content. No sex. Just the open plains spread out before us.”
“Really?” Alfred asked, mood immediately picking up as he heard that Arthur
would get them separate horses next time. He climbed up onto the horse in front
this time, cringing a bit as he sat down on his sore bottom.
“Really. Have I ever lied to you before?” asked Arthur honestly. He
effortlessly clambered up onto the horse behind Alfred, having not just taken a
cock up his ass. “Oh, sure, I’ve told some half-truths, punished you for your
disobedience, and did a little acting during that whole incident with Francis,
but I’ve always been honest with you. Technically.”
“What about the pregnancy thing?” Alfred asked, frowning. Using the reigns he
got the horse walking, knowing how to ride one from the days back at the farm.
It was nice to be sitting up front though, made him feel more like a man.
Arthur coughed awkwardly. “Okay, one lie. But I don’t think a practical joke
really counts,” he said, looking away with the faintest of embarrassed blushes
on his face. “I’ve never lied about anything meaningful.”
Alfred pouted at that. It was a rather cruel practical joke but it was best not
to argue about it. Arthur was finally back in a good mood and he wasn’t going
to ruin that. “Are we heading back to the ship once we return the horse?”
“It depends. Do you want to go back to the ship?” asked Arthur, reaching his
arms around Alfred’s waist and pulling him in close. He wanted to rest his chin
on Alfred’s shoulder, but the height difference shattered his dream. Instead,
he settled for pressing his cheek against his beloved pet’s back. He knew he
wouldn’t be able to keep it up once they got into a populated area, but for
right then, he liked being able to hold his property in his arms.
The horse walked on in a slow trot, Alfred smiling as he felt the pirate rest
against his back. “Not really, but what else should we do?” he asked, wondering
what else there was to do.
Arthur’s suggestions certainly started out innocent enough. “You could ride the
horse a bit more, or we could wander through town,” he said, allowing himself a
moment to rest his eyes. It was such a nice day, and they were in the middle of
nowhere. “Or we could ride out to a remote farm, and I could teach you how to
properly pillage.” And there went the innocent.
“Uh, let’s just ride the horse more,” Alfred said, frowning at the pillaging
idea. No way did he want to learn how to pillage, the day his town was attacked
still fresh in his mind. “I like riding anyways, it’s really calming.”
“Go right ahead. Just give me a heads-up if you’re going to go into a trot or a
gallop,” said Arthur, taking the opportunity to relax for once. It was a pretty
nice feeling. He didn’t get too many opportunities to simply rest, as though
there were no more troubles in the world, and there weren’t hundreds of people
out for his head.
Alfred nodded, letting the horse just slowly walk them along the path. Arthur
leaning against him felt oddly romantic, Alfred blushing a bit at that. “Know
any good places we can take the horse for a walk?”
Arthur’s eyes briefly fluttered open so he could point in a certain direction.
“The last time I came here, there was a decent path to the next town over. It’s
longer than the main way, but the shorter route gets flooded frequently during
the rainy season. It’s clear, pretty, and not too many people travel along it
this time of the year.” Naturally, they wouldn’t go the whole way, but it was a
decent stretch of land to ride around purely for pleasure.
Alfred’s backside hurt a bit as they rode on, doing his best to ignore the pain
since the ride was very nice and calming. He could rest when they got back to
the ship. “Which way is it?” Alfred asked, holding the reins and having the
horse go just a bit faster.
Arthur briefly reached around to tug Alfred’s arm - he would never quite
understand why the colonists insisted on their bizarre, one-handed method of
steering the horse, as opposed to a more traditional English style - in the
direction he was referring to, then withdrew it to grip his torso once more.
“There’s something very calming about all this,” mused the pirate. “It almost
makes one want to look back on their lives to contemplate just how they’re
spending their days on this planet. We live in such a big, beautiful world.
Perhaps I should just retire from piracy, and live the rest of my days as an
honest merchant of the seas.”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Alfred said, assuming the pirate was.
It was too bad though, he certainly wouldn’t mind being with Arthur as a
merchant. He was getting used to sea life after all. It was too bad the other
had to be a pirate.
“What, you don’t believe I’m capable?” said Arthur, chuckling. “Why, Alfred,
darling, you wound me!” He reached up with one arm to ruffle Alfred’s hair.
“But yes, I am joking. Quite frankly, the idea repulses me. After all, if I
hadn’t been a pirate, I never would have met you.” He tightened his grip around
the former farmer’s waist. He’d gotten more attached to Alfred than he’d
initially intended. For one, he’d lasted the longest out of all his captives.
For another, his naivety was incredibly endearing. It certainly didn’t hurt
that he was quite the looker, to boot.
Alfred gave an awkward laugh at that, really wishing Arthur would turn to an
honest life. For a moment he could forget all the terrible things Arthur had
done to him and just appreciate the weirdly romantic moment.
Arthur exhaled, wishing he could somehow press their bodies closer together.
“Such a lovely creature, you are. I’m never letting you go,” he murmured.
Briefly, he felt a little concerned. Something about the situation seemed oddly
familiar to him, but he brushed it off in favor of holding his ‘wife.’ “Someday
you’ll understand the joy of taking by force what life has denied you.”
Alfred didn’t argue with that, still telling himself that he’d never end up
like Arthur, never. “Next time we’re in port we should do this again. The pie
and riding that is,” Alfred laughed, wondering what kind of pie he should get
next time.
“Of course, my love,” said Arthur, nodding. In all honesty, he wasn’t quite
sure just what his feelings were for Alfred anymore. He knew that he liked him,
at least as a pet, but did he really, truly love him the way he claimed to? Or
was he just caught up in the heat of the moment? He was a pirate. He couldn’t
allow himself to feel so attached. What if something came along that required
Alfred to die or otherwise be sacrificed? What if someone offered him an
exorberant amount of money to buy him on the black market?
The horse got up into a trot, Alfred handling the reins as he led them along a
path. “What would you like to do when we get back to the ship?” he asked,
figuring Arthur would have some business to attend to when they got back. He
could use some alone time after all of this.
“I have to spend some time alone with some of the other senior members of the
crew planning our heist,” said Arthur, opening his eyes and easily clinging to
the stallion. Much as he needed Alfred to learn, the poor thing was probably
never going to be a strategist. It was nice that he’d gotten so much better
with blades and guns in such a short period of time, but his head was as empty
as a cicada’s shell. “You’ll have to stay out of the captain’s quarters until
we’re done.” His grip on Alfred tightened even further. “If you’d like, you may
either help some of the men unload cargo, spend some time training, or rest up
below deck.”
“I’ll probably just rest,” Alfred said, his backside still stinging in pain
from earlier. The day had gone by fairly well, Alfred able to easily forget
Arthur’s anger from earlier. Things did seem to be slowly getting better and if
he kept up his good behavior he was sure Arthur would let him see his family
again soon.
“That’s fine. You’ll be hard at work training tomorrow, though. I love you,
darling, but you must keep your skills sharp,” said Arthur, relaxing his grip
just a little. The horse whinnied as they continued on under the trees. Again,
he wondered just how much of what he said was true. Surely he didn’t honestly
love Alfred. Or if he did, it was in the same way one might love a prized
possession.
He frowned. That was a question for another day.
***** Chapter 12 *****
Chapter by Klei
Chapter Notes
     'eeeeeey, we're back! I know, I know, it's been a while. A long
     while. But, uh, here it is. This is actually only the first half of
     what was originally one whole continuous scene, but it was super
     long, so, uh, expect another chapter soon that picks off right where
     this one left off.
It was almost pitch black as they lowered the boats to approach the shore.
 Without a dock, they couldn’t get close enough to solid ground to lower a
ramp.  It was a slightly more complicated little maneuver, but Arthur still
preferred the silence to the perpetually noisy docks.  A pirate ship was never
truly  silent,  no, but it was still only a few dozen men to a few  hundred.  
He far preferred the water lapping at the sides of the boat to the scraping of
wood against wood, or the constant thud of dropped and falling crates.  The
quietest were the boats, though, for his men understood the importance of
silence on a raid.  They still chattered, yes, but they did so quietly, so as
not to alert anyone crazy enough to go fishing at night.  With the lanterns
blown out, it was imperative that they take it slow.
 
“Are you ready, Alfred?” asked Arthur, as though he were an older sibling
taking his younger brother on his first deer hunt, and not a pirate taking his
captive on his first raid.  He gave Alfred’s revolver a look-over, though it
was a mostly fruitless effort in the dark.  “It’s easy, really.  These folk who
live near the shore have less to fear from the savages inland, and have fewer
weapons.  Keep your gun handy.  Shoot the men, leave the women for the crew.
 Leave the children, too.  They’re rarely a threat, and killing them is
dishonorable.”  Not that he believed Alfred was capable of doing so, anyway.
 That last reminder was more to the other men in the boat.  “You’ve been
training hard, love, and you’ve become an even better shot with a gun than many
of my men.  I know you’ll help us get a big haul.  We might even find a lovely
new piece of jewelry for you…”
 
Alfred had been feeling anxious ever since Arthur had told him that he had to
participate in a raid. He knew there was no way he could ever kill someone,
even if Arthur was expecting it. He reached out, taking the gun from the
pirate, silently listening to the man’s words. Hopefully this raid wouldn’t
last long and he could quickly erase the memory from his mind.
 
“Do I really have to?” Alfred asked, gulping as he did. He already knew the
answer sadly, but he still asked. “I won’t be very good at it, I’ll just get in
everyone’s way.”
 
“Of course you’ll be good at it,” Arthur said in a voice that was clearly
intended to be reassuring.  “Your aim is good, your fencing…” He paused to
consider his words.  “...needs some work, admittedly, but you won’t encounter
any swordsmen here, anyway.”  He reached up and playfully ruffled Alfred’s
hair, curling his cowlick around his finger in the process.  “Just relax.
 Enjoy yourself.”
 
Alfred was hoping he could somehow have gotten out of it, although he knew it
would be pointless. Hopefully he could just get through it without having to
kill anyone. Even now thinking about going on a raid just reminded him of how
he had been taken from his home. “I don’t think I’ll be able to.”
 
“Nonsense, of course you can!” said Arthur.  He rose up out of his seat in the
rowboat somewhat to lean over and give Alfred a peck on the lips, rocking it
slightly, but after all his years on ships, his sea legs were good enough that
he kept perfect balance.  “You’re far more prepared for combat than any of
those silly civilians.  They won’t stand a chance.  Relax, love, I wouldn’t
have taken you if I thought you weren’t ready.”
 
There was a soft little lurch as the hull came into contact with the sand.
 Lanterns were blown out, and one by one, the pirates gingerly stepped out of
the boats and into the shallows.  Arthur swung himself over the side and landed
in the water with a noisy splash, the salty sea halfway to his knees.  The
boots helped a little, but it still soaked his trousers.  That was to be
expected, though.  He beckoned for Alfred to follow as he and the others
trudged a few more meters to shore.
 
Alfred didn’t really kiss back, letting Arthur’s simply touch his before the
pirate withdrew. Scared of lagging behind Alfred quickly hopped out of the
boat, immediately shivering as the cold water soaked into his boots and
trousers. Breathing heavily he headed up to Arthur’s side, gun in hand as he
followed the other.
 
The walk was only about fifteen minutes; fishing villages didn’t like to set
themselves up too far from the water.  To have done so would have been
impractical, given their main source of food.  Still, it felt like much longer,
at least to Arthur.  He had been on many a raid in the past, and a lot of them
had been with people who were less than willing to take lives or belongings,
especially of the innocent.  Still, if THEY didn’t perform as expected, he
could always just kill them.  He wanted to keep Alfred, but he didn’t want to
just keep him locked up on the ship all the time.
 
Arthur couldn’t explain it.  He just really,  really  wanted to see Alfred
enjoying his work.  He wanted to see Alfred stealing alongside him,  killing
alongside him… The two of them, up against the world… It was almost romantic.
 
Uhg.   That frog had rubbed off on him during their last meeting, hadn’t he?
 As though he had feelings for Alfred.  He was just another whore.  A
deliciously appealing whore, whose presence he quite enjoyed, but a whore
nonetheless.  Arthur scowled to himself.  Attachment led to tragedy.  Once you
started caring, it was only a matter of time before you had your heart ripped
out.  He’d lost everything in the past, and he was never going to hurt like
that again.  Hurting was for the weak.  The more people  he  hurt, the stronger
he became.
 
Arthur licked his lips as the man-made structures they came across became more
numerous.  He couldn’t wait to run his blade through some hearts.
 
“Spread out and begin, keeping a low profile,” he ordered quietly.  “Alfred,
you stay with me, and keep it down.  The longer it takes for the alert to be
spread, the easier this will be.”
 
Alfred silently nodded although he knew Arthur probably wouldn’t see it. Alfred
could feel some palpitations, his heart pounding. Sure he had gotten more used
to life on the ship since his capture, and sure he had technically killed
someone, but he was still scared.
 
Alfred could vividly remember that moment too when he struck the knife straight
into that man. It made him want to throw up just thinking about it, his stomach
lurching a bit as he followed behind.
 
Arthur led them to the nearest building, giving Alfred soft instructions all
the while.
 
“Always keep a lookout for dogs.  If we have to, we can shoot them, but they’ll
inevitably bark enough to rouse people before then,” the pirate explained.  “If
you see one, try to stay downwind.  Don’t let them smell you, though they’re
just as likely to hear you.”
 
Speaking of which, it was probably best to quiet down as they got closer, so
Arthur shut his mouth in favor of leading Alfred around the back of what looked
to be a small home.  Carefully, he poked his head around the corner, until the
entrance was in sight.  There was no evidence that they owned any sort of a
canine, so he took a peek inside to evaluate what they were up against.  One
man, one woman.  No children.  Perfect for Alfred’s first time.  He leaned back
to whisper the plan to his pet:
 
“I want you to go in first,” said Arthur, looking around and grabbing some rope
up from the ground; it had many uses, and colonists were such a messy bunch,
keeping their shit all over the place… Regardless, he certainly wasn’t going to
waste his OWN rope, so it was probably for the best.  “You’re going to kill the
man while I restrain his wife.  They don’t own a gun; too poor, and too far
from the savages to need one for defense.  On top of that, this is a fishing
village, not a hunting village.  You should be able to take him out easily with
a sword.  Just go in and cut his throat.  Or stab him in the chest.  I don’t
care, as long as he’s dead.”
 
Alfred could barely hear Arthur’s words over the sound of his own heartbeating.
There was no way he could just walk in and slit someone’s throat like that and
he immediately began thinking of ways to get out of it. Maybe if he
“accidentally” made too much noise the people would wake up before he got to
them.
 
“Why do I have to kill him though?” Alfred asked quietly, a look of horror on
his face as he spoke.
 
Arthur sighed, something that it seemed he was doing a lot of around Alfred;
one day, he feared overuse of the gesture would cause his lungs to deflate
forever.
 
“Even an unarmed man can be a threat, if you try to take that which is dear to
him,” said Arthur simply.  The ‘I don’t consider you a threat to me, and
therefore I don’t consider you a man’ remained an unspoken implication of his
words.  Women could also be surprisingly clever, he’d learned, but he could
easily overpower some farmer’s wife.  He’d met some surprisingly strong women
in his travels, of course - a certain Hungarian came to mind - but they seemed
so few and far between that he wasn’t terribly concerned.  Perhaps they
themselves were just men at heart.  “Now, on my signal, you’re to follow me
into the house and take him out, preferably asleep.  It should be a simple task
if you stay quiet.  Screw it up  intentionally,  and you  will  be punished.”
 
Without giving Alfred time to respond, he hurried to the door, pressed his ear
to the wood to ensure that no one was still awake, then motioned with his hand
for his pet to follow.  Wordlessly, he rushed in, silent as the night, rope in
hand.
 
Within seconds, the farmer’s wife had been woken up, but it made little
difference, seeing as Arthur had shoved a cloth into her mouth and tied one
over her nose; there would still be air to breathe, but the noise was muffled.
 Even so, it would only be moments before her husband noticed something amiss.
 Quickly, he glanced over his shoulder in search of his pet.
 
Alfred was standing behind Arthur, gun in hand as he watched. His eyes darted
over to the woman’s husband, miraculously still asleep. He knew he had to do
it, but he wasn’t sure of himself. Getting his gun in position he headed to the
foot of the man’s bed and aimed, pressing his finger to the trigger.
 
He had purposefully aimed a bit off, the bullet barely passing by the man’s
head.
 
Arthur’s first reaction was to gape.  He wanted to facepalm, but that would
have cut off his visibility, which wasn’t exactly the best way to handle the
fact that the man they were supposed to kill had just awoken with a start.
 
“Alfred, you bloody  idiot…”  he resigned himself to saying as he simply
dropped the bound woman in his arms to the ground.  She shrieked about as much
as she could with the gag in her mouth, but a solid kick in the head was enough
to knock her out and shut her up.
 
Meanwhile, Mr. Should Have Been Dead was still very much alive, and not at all
pleased by the situation.
 
“Wh-who are you?  What are you doing in my house?” he demanded, only to see his
wife’s unconscious body tied up on the floor.  “What are you doing to my
wife?”
 
He was about to get up when Arthur pulled out a gun of his own to hold to his
head.
 
“Sorry, but I can’t reward my pet for his failures,” were the final words he
heard before his brain was splattered all over the blankets.  His body fell
back down upon the bed with a quiet little ‘whumf.’   “Intentional  failures,
to boot.  Alfred, you had him at point blank range.  I  know  you missed on
purpose.  Do you think I’m an idiot?”
 
Alfred flinched at the gunshot, a bit of blood splattering onto his clothes.
“I-I didn’t miss on purpose,” he insisted, averting his gaze from the pirate.
“I-I’m just really nervous is all, my hands were shaking,” that part was true
at least.
 
Still, Arthur was no idiot and he knew he’d be suffering for his mistake later
.
“Liar,” snarled Arthur, putting away his gun to grab Alfred by the shirt and
slam him against the wall.  “Even someone who’d never held a gun before could
have managed to at least hit him!  You  will  suffer consequences for
deliberately disobeying me!”  
 
A grin spread across his face as the woman beside them stirred.  In fiction, a
person who’d been knocked out stayed down for hours.  In reality, it was more
likely to be anywhere from a few seconds to a couple of minutes at most; any
more than that, and they’d probably suffered permanent damage.  A good thing,
too, because he knew exactly how he was going to punish Alfred.
 
He pulled a knife from his trousers, handed it to Alfred, then retrieved his
gun once more to aim it at his pet’s head.
 
“It could have been quick and easy.  A simple pull of the trigger.  Not
anymore,” he said darkly, taking a step back to allow Alfred enough space to
move.  “Cut her dress off.  And if you refuse me, or attempt to cut the ropes
binding her, I’ll kill you both.”
 
Alfred’s face felt like it was going to bruise, tears in his eyes as the knife
was given to his shaky hand.
 
“W-Wait, you want me to..?” he cut himself off as he turned his gaze to the
woman, fear evident in her eyes. Alfred knew he had no other choice though,
especially with the gun pointing rather close at his head.
 
Kneeling down he began to awkwardly cut at the woman’s dress, starting with the
top part. “S-Sorry,” he muttered, knowing it was best to get it over with.
 
Just to make things worse for Alfred, Arthur tore the gag from the woman’s
mouth as he began the task he’d been assigned.
 
“Wait, what are you doing?” shrieked the woman, only to notice the blood on
Alfred’s face.  “Where’s my husband?   WHERE’S MY HUSBAND?”   Her head turned
towards the corpse that Arthur rather ungraciously dumped to the floor beside
her.  For a long moment, she was silent.
 
Then, predictably enough, she began to scream and cry.  Her voice was barely
coherent anymore as her clothing was sliced away.
 
“YOU MONSTERS!” she wailed.  “You killed him!  Oh, God, you  killed him!   Get
off of me!  GET OFF OF ME!  Murderers!  Satanists!   Demons!”
 
Her screams just made Alfred feel worse, only reminding him of what he was like
when Arthur had first raided his home. Tears began to freely fall as he
continued his cutting, exposing the woman’s breasts.
 
It honestly made him feel sick, having to turn his body a bit to get the
woman’s dead husband out of view. “A-Arthur, please, please don’t make me do
this.”
 
“Oh, but Alfred, haven’t you wanted to try it with a woman for the longest
time?” teased Arthur, leaning in close and raising his voice to make sure that
he was heard over the sounds of the woman’s screaming.
 
Her voice grew louder still as her breasts were freed from the confines of her
dress.  At least she wasn’t a Puritan.  According to  their  belief system,
what was happening to her was just punishment for her sins.  Oh, wait a second,
Arthur supposed he could use that.
 
“It’s fine, Alfred,” Arthur said in a mocking tone of voice.  “This wouldn’t be
happening to her if God favored her, isn’t that right?”  He waved the gun
again, a silent command for his pet to get things done faster.
 
Alfred nodded as he simply lifted the woman’s dress up, hands already working
on removing any undergarments. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was to force
himself on her when his cock was very flaccid. He wasn’t sure there was
anything that could arouse him at this point, finally removing everything
underneath her dress.
 
“You’re a monster!” screeched the woman.  She spat in Alfred’s face, eyes still
full of tears.  “You’re a demon, and you’re going straight to Hell!   You
murderer!  Get off of me!”
 
Arthur strolled around to kneel down behind Alfred, pressing his gun to the
back of his head.  “Isn’t this lovely?  I’m giving you what you’ve wanted for
the longest time.  Really, this hardly even qualifies as a punishment!”  His
left arm snaked around Alfred’s waist, and he pulled out his pet’s flaccid cock
to start stroking it to full hardness.  The sight only made the woman scream
louder, if that were even possible.  It was becoming genuinely ear-splitting,
and Arthur was tempted to gag her again just to keep it from giving him a
headache.
 
“DON’T DO THIS!   STOP!   HELP!   SOMEBODY HELP ME!”
 
Alfred couldn’t help but let out a gasp as Arthur’s familiar fingers wrapped
around his cock. “Arthur please,” he whimpered, shutting his eyes tightly. Not
that it helped distract him much considering the woman’s screams.
 
He knew he was going to hell, the woman didn’t need to tell him that.
 
“What’s wrong, love?” asked Arthur, refusing to cease his movements.  “I
thought you wanted this.  I’m only helping you prepare yourself.  Such a
touching moment, isn’t it?  Your first time with someone of the opposite sex!”
 
It was perfect.  For Arthur, anyway.  Never again would Alfred be able to
imagine a woman without remembering the one beneath him right then.  The woman
at the tavern whom he’d eyed with desire would never again tempt him away from
his master, owner, captain, and husband.
 
Still, her wails were really beginning to grate on his nerves, so he fired a
bullet beside her head to get her attention.
 
“If you don’t quiet down, I  will  kill you, is that clear?  I only need your
body for this lesson; it doesn’t have to be alive!”
 
Even Alfred couldn’t help but scream at the gunshot, half tempted himself to
re-gag the woman. Luckily though that seemed to do the trick, her screams
turning into quiet sobs.
 
“I-I’m sorry,” Alfred yelled out again, hands holding her legs apart, exposing
her to himself. Yes, it was true that he had always wanted to try it with a
woman, but not like this.
 
“You’re not sorry,” she spat.  “You’re a murderer  and  a liar!  Go to Hell!
 Go to Hell, go to Hell, go to Hell!”  She continued to chant those words as
she cried, turning her head to one side so she didn’t have to look at him.
 
“Get on with it, Alfred.  You know you want to,” said Arthur, not letting up in
the slightest as he stroked Alfred’s unwilling length.  “Think of the pleasure.
 How  good  it will feel.”
 
Alfred slapped Arthur’s hand away, ready to get on with it. With hesitation he
moved closer to the woman, shivering as his cock rubbed against her outer
labia. Slowly he began to push in, unable to hold back as a soft moan escaped
his lips.
 
God, he was sick, finding pleasure even now as he forced his way into her.
 
All that remained for Arthur to do was to wipe his hand on his trousers and
watch the show.  The horror of what he was doing would traumatize Alfred on its
own; there was no need for him to involve himself any further.  The woman
briefly looked like she was about to start screaming hysterically again, but a
quick wave of his gun kept the noise level down.  Idly, he decided to take a
seat on the corpse of her husband; it wasn’t particularly comfortable, but it
gave him a better view of the show than the bed, and was more comfortable than
the floor.
 
“Completely ignorant of how to please a woman, aren’t you?” mused Arthur.
 “Fondle her breasts a bit.”
 
It was Alfred’s own fault.  They would have been done by then if he’d just
killed the man like he’d been ordered.
 
Alfred nodded, slowly reaching down and cupping both of her breasts in his
hands, his thrusts stopping momentarily as he focused on that.
 
Of course he had no idea how to please a woman he wanted to scream, biting his
lower lip as he began to move again, slowly thrusting. At least she had quieted
down, it was easier this way for Alfred to try and focus on something else.
 
Meanwhile, Arthur picked up a conveniently-placed apple that seemed to have
fallen to the floor in the chaos and took a single bite before casually
discarding the rest back on the ground, in a move that one might swear the
creators of the universe had deliberately engineered to make him look like even
more of an asshole.  Without thinking, the fingers of his free hand wove
through the bloody hair of the corpse he was sitting upon, silently petting it
and imagining that it was Alfred’s.  His poor, traumatized pet was doing such a
good job of being awful.  Once he got used to it, it would cease to bother him.
 
That was when the woman spoke up again.
 
“Kill me,” she whispered.
 
“How very unholy of you to say,” mused Arthur.  “Pay her words no heed, Alfred.
 Just enjoy yourself.”
 
Alfred was shocked to hear her words, fresh tears forming in his eyes as he
continued to thrust. He knew exactly how the poor woman felt, so often he had
wished to die instead of stay with Arthur, although he had never been brave
enough to go through with it. “I-I can’t,” he whimpered out.
 
Still, to not kill her seemed almost too cruel. Her husband killed in front of
her face and her body violated. Alfred knew she could easily be taken as a
slave on board too.
 
With shaky hands he slowly reached down, wrapping his fingers around her neck,
applying pressure.
 
Arthur didn’t do anything to stop him.  On the contrary, he watched with wide,
fascinated eyes as Alfred began to squeeze her throat.  Suffocation was one of
the most drawn out ways to kill someone.  Poor thing was probably too ignorant
to realize that she would suffer less if he just shot her.  Just because there
wasn’t as much blood didn’t mean it was any less horrible.  If he himself had
to pick, he’d have taken the bullet.
 
Still, Arthur couldn’t help but take great amusement out of the whole
spectacle, his gaze shifting to her face to see if perhaps she changed her mind
about her request to die at the last minute.  Not that he intended to say
anything; he wanted the image of her dying eyes burned into Alfred’s mind for
the rest of his short life.  Any time he looked at a woman and started to feel
the slightest bit aroused, he would remember strangling an innocent to death.
 The only sex he was allowed to take pleasure out of was sex with his master.
 
Alfred honestly had no idea how long it took for someone to suffocate to death,
tightening his grip around the woman’s neck. He couldn’t help but mutter a soft
‘sorry’ knowing that she probably didn’t hear it. Even if she did it didn’t
matter, sorry alone wouldn’t undo this.
 
As he tightened his grip he shut his eyes, hips moving slowly, his mostly soft
cock pushing in and out of her. God he hoped it would end soon, he wasn’t sure
how much longer he could do this.
 
The woman’s tormented face took on a red hue, then gradually went purple as she
was continuously denied oxygen.  A grin broke out across Arthur’s face as a
hint of regret appeared in her eyes, which were practically bugging out of her
skull as her body instinctively yearned for air.  Her struggles began to slow,
and her eyelids descended halfway down her irises as her consciousness began to
fade away.  The tongue hanging limply from her mouth did nothing to free her
airways.
 
“Be sure to keep the pressure up for a little while, yet,” said Arthur.  “Right
now she’s just falling unconscious.  It’ll take a bit longer before it actually
kills her.  Or, if you want to speed things up…”  He nodded towards Alfred’s
gun.
 
Alfred had kept his eyes closed, opening them as Arthur spoke only to
immediately regret it. The look of agony on the woman’s face was enough to make
him feel sick. His hips stopped moving as he further tightened his grip around
her neck.
 
“H-How long do I have to do this?”
 
“Four to seven minutes ought to do it,” said Arthur, tempted to just shoot her
and get it over with.  But then, the lesson wouldn’t quite sink in the same
way.  Alfred had to be the one to kill her.  “Look her in the face as she dies,
Alfred, or we’ll just have to do it all over again on some other woman.”
 
Those words alone caused Alfred’s eyes to shoot wide open, tears falling as he
stared at her face. At least she was unconscious now he thought, at least she
wasn’t struggling anymore.
 
Time felt like it was passing so slowly, Alfred no longer thrusting as he
focused solely on trying to kill his victim.
 
“Keep thrusting, too.  Come on, you’re meant to be enjoying yourself,” chided
Arthur.  “You wanted to be with a woman, remember?”
 
He still didn’t touch Alfred, unwilling to have his pet start associating his
hands with the sensation of penetrating another.  No, when the ex-Puritan boy
felt his touch, the first impulse Arthur intended for him to feel was that of
submission.
 
Alfred let out a frustrated groan as he slowly started to move his hips despite
his mostly soft cock now. He kept his grip tight on the woman’s neck, assuming
Arthur would tell him when to let up.
 
Arthur shrugged, still failing to understand why Alfred insisted on suffocating
her.  A bullet really  would  have been the easier option.  Perhaps it was so
he could imagine that she was just sleeping, instead of having bits of blood
and flesh scattering everywhere.  He would just have to make sure he was aware
of just how much unnecessary suffering he’d caused her on the way out when he
was done.  Couldn’t have him coming out of the ordeal untraumatized.  That, and
the fact that he had explicitly made the decision earlier to have sex with her
so she wouldn’t die.  Yet, there she was, dead  and  raped.  Pity, that.
 
Eventually, the pirate captain reached down to check the woman’s pulse, and
gave Alfred a nod.  “She’s definitely dead, you can remove your hands from her
neck now.  I’ll let you decide for yourself whether to continue or pull out.
 Your choice.  No consequences either way.”
 
As soon as Alfred heard those words he immediately withdrew from the woman’s
body, not even bothering to pull his trousers up as he fell back. “C-Can we go
now, please?” he asked, voice louder this time.
 
He shut his eyes, not wanting to look at her dead body as fresh tears began to
flow. He couldn’t believe he had done such thing. He really was just like
Arthur, wasn’t he?
 
With Alfred having pulled away from the woman’s corpse, Arthur finally stood up
from his seat, which hadn’t been particularly comfortable from the beginning,
and seemed to have become progressively less so as time went on.  Content that
his pet had learned a valuable lesson about obeying orders, he reached forward
to wrap his arms around his waist.
 
“Aye, I think we’re done here,” said Arthur.  One hand slid upwards to pet
Alfred’s head.  “Good boy.  Pull up your trousers.”
 
Alfred pushed himself away from Arthur, quickly pulling up his trousers. “Can
we get out of here now?” he asked, trying to hide the anger in his voice. He
could feel fresh tears forming as he refused to even look at Arthur.
 
“You don’t want to meet up with the others in town first?  They should have
things under control by now.  Come on, I’ve given you enough breaks,” said
Arthur, deciding to allow Alfred some space.  He didn’t want him to associate
his trauma with his master’s loving embrace.  “We’ll head back to the ship
after we go through the loot.  Besides, we have to get you some new clothes,
now that those are covered in blood.”
 
Alfred sighed, knowing it wouldn’t be so easy to get out of it. “Fine, if
that’s all we’re doing,” he replied, voice low. He was not going to kill
another person, he couldn’t.
 
“That’s my good little lamb.  Now come on, up,” he said, as though there
weren’t a pair of corpses on the floor, and the two of them weren’t covered in
blood.  He offered his hand to help Alfred to his feet.  “It shouldn’t be a
very long walk.  I can carry you, if you’d like.”
 
“I can walk myself,” Alfred said, not really wanting to be near Arthur.
Carefully he stepped over the woman’s corpse in front of him, getting to
Arthur’s side. He hoped they wouldn’t be out for too long, the day’s events so
far had left him rather exhausted.
 
“Suit yourself.”
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