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wanderingsoul
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Re: The Captain's Favor
Thorne held the tankard to the boy’s lips as the boy gulped down the water. It was more than a fever that made a thirst like that. Doubtless the boy had taken on some sea water during his swim. And like as not he hadn’t been a pampered guest of the late captain of the sunken frigate. He released the boy’s hair and set the tankard back on the desk as the boy gasped for air. He half expected the boy to resume his attempt to escape, but it seemed the boy was spent as he laid his forehead against the bed and seemed to sink into it.
”Kind and beautiful”
Thorne’s lips twitched, and he wondered who the kind beauty was in the boy’s fevered thoughts. “Aye, I’m sure she is, lad,” he said in a very soft voice as he carefully lifted the boy from his knees and laid him on the bed. He shook his head as the boy almost immediately rolled over onto his back.
”Never this bad before”
The pain on the boy’s face made his lips tighten, just as the soft moan that passed through his parted lips made his **** twitch. “Aye, lad, Devereaux’s a fair devil with that cat of his.” He knealt beside the bed and brushed a damp lock of the boy’s hair back from the deep gashes on the boy’s cheek, a cheek now stained with the flush of fever.
”Much better than him though”
The boy’s mind was wandering, but at least the lad had a smile on his lips. So wherever his fever was taking him, at least it didn’t seem to be unpleasant. Fever could be a blessing like that. And he thought briefly of a few of the times he had suffered the delirium of fever. Upon more than one occasion he had been disappointed to have awoken.
Thorne stiffened as the boy suddenly wrapped his hand around his hair, instantly ready in case the boy had been feigning his delirium. But as he met the boy’s eyes he could see that they saw but didn’t see. So he just let himself look into the boy’s eyes. They were more blue than green now, and liquid—as if the fever that burned behind them had melted them. Soft eyes, sad eyes, eyes that longed but regretted in the same moment… But the liquid turned to ice, the blue freezing as quickly as it had melted.
”no one should have eyes like that”
No, no one should. Not eyes that could melt and freeze within the space of a breath. Not eyes that offered a tantalizing glimpse of the soul behind them and beckoned you come inside—then slammed the door in your face and lowered the bolt.
The boy dropped his hand and rolled over onto his stomach. ”Not even a captain with eyes like the sea”
Thorne stood up, his expression unreadable. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing through the same strands that had slipped through the boy’s fingers. Without looking back at the boy, he took a clean shirt from the wardrobe and put it on. He picked up his jacket and hesitated. The rain had stopped, leaving a soft, fresh breeze behind it. But it was still hotter than it should be. He tossed the jacket back onto the chair. His crew would still recognize him as captain even if he walked among them naked as the day he was born.
***
The breeze had turned to a wind and it whipped through the Captain’s hair as he stood on the bridge of the ship, both hands resting on the polished rail.
“D’ ye think it’ll be th’ cyclone, cap’n?”
Thorne shook his head slightly. “No, it’s blowing from the wrong direction and the clouds aren’t moving in a circle.”
He knew Devereaux knew that just as well as he did. Perhaps better. Devereaux had sailed in these waters for more years than he had, having been born and bred in the islands. But his question had been an opener, an attempt by Devereaux to return things between them to normal. Thorne had made his own such attempt a few hours before as he had allowed Devereaux to pleasure him with his mouth before he bent him over the table in the ship’s galley. It hadn’t been a terribly private moment. Thorne had been fully aware of the crew just on the other side of the door, some of whom had obviously enjoyed the show, if the sounds they were making were any indication. But he had humiliated Devereaux in public and he would acknowledge Devereaux still retained his rightful position with enough witnesses to right things.
He turned to look at his first mate. He had once been nearly as pretty as the boy in his cabin. Though in a slightly rougher way. But the scars of battle marred his features which were worn by the salt air and lined by the hot sun. And the sun and the years had washed the gold from his pale hair, though it was still long and fine and not unpleasant to slide through his fingers. They were nearly of an age, he and Devereaux. And he had no illusions about his own looks. They had once been much…better? No, perhaps not. Perhaps they had simply been much less harsh, less marred. But he’d had the benefit of a soft early life. Devereaux had no such benefit. So time hung more heavily upon that man’s shoulders.
He walked over to Devereaux and stood beside him, his shoulder just touching the other man’s shoulder. He could feel Devereaux’s posture change, could feel him relax. All was well between them, despite the boy in his cabin. Though he knew the boy was not far from Devereaux’s thoughts—nor from his.
“Ah, ‘tis a fine sight, isn’t it, Dev?”
The sun was setting and the torches that lined the battlements of the fortifications of the port gave off a warm, welcoming glow. And they would be welcomed, even though they flew a pirate’s flag. The Governor was well disposed to cast a blind eye to the dealings of the brethren—as long as they continued to line his pockets with their plundered gold. And a pirate crew eager to spend their booty was a welcome sight to the merchants and whores of the port.
Devereaux nodded. “Aye, cap’n.” He never used the captain’s name unless they were alone in the captain’s cabin. And his fingers tightened on the helm of the ship. As long as that boy was in there, he’d not be setting foot in there. Not unless it was to slit the boy’s throat or choke the life out of him.
Thorne glanced at Devereaux. He had noticed the man’s long fingers tighten and flex. He laid a hand on the man’s back. “Take us in, Dev. I have some things to see to.”
“Aye, cap’n,” Devereaux responded. And as the Captain walked away, he added, half under his breath, “Aye, ye’ ‘ave t’ see t’ tha’ pretty boy o’ yers. Ye see t’ ‘im now, cap’n. I’ll see t’ ‘im la’er.”
***
“How is he, Ames?” Thorne asked as he opened the door to his cabin. The boy had been unconscious for a full night and a day and hot with fever. He had ordered Ames to watch over the boy whenever he was not in his cabin. He had done so as much to protect the boy from Devereaux as to keep an eye on his state. He had no illusions—Devereaux hated this boy; and Thorne could take Devereaux in front of the whole crew and swear to them that there was nary a mouth as warm nor a tongue as skilled as his, and he would still hate the boy and see him as a threat.
“I still say ‘e needs t’ be bled, cap’n,” Ames began. “I ‘ave a few leeches an’—“
“As much as I respect your knowledge of such things, Ames,” Thorne interrupted, “I do not see the benefits of draining a person’s blood when they have already lost more than enough of it.” He nodded dismissively at the man, who quickly left the cabin, shaking his head but not daring to defy his captain in anything.
Thorne knelt beside the boy and laid his hand on his forehead. It was hot still, but not, he thought, as hot as it had been. He couldn’t tell the boy’s color since the light from the oil lamp was fairly dim. But he thought he looked a little less flushed. But he couldn’t really be certain.
“We’ll be in port tonight, lad. Some fresh water and of the fair Babette’s ministrations will soon put ye right. Though what I’ll be doing with ye after that, the devil if I know.”
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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1/25/2006, 5:51 am
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MarkL15
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Re: The Captain's Favor
Seth’s mind had sunken into a deep sleep, no dreams crossed his mind nor did any thoughts, the fever wrapping around him had ensured he did not wake from the deep sleep. He never slept like this, not even during his time with Andre, when the nights had been especially vicious. He had always managed to ensure his sleep was light enough so he could wake himself and remove himself from Andres possessive hold. He never trusted Andre enough to sleep deeply in the mans presence, he had never felt safe enough to sleep deeply full stop, but less so around Andre. His sleep was something that had eluded him for years, he had once enjoyed the pleasure of deep sleep when he was young enough to trust easily. That had changed soon enough. It was the irony that he had slept so deeply aboard a pirate ship in which he was certainly in danger that drew a smile to his lips as he felt himself slowly waking.
He felt as though he had slept for weeks and in truth he did not know how long he had been under, though he some how doubted he would still be alive f he had slept longer than a day or two. He still felt the fever raging through his body, but it was better than it had been , it was closer to the kind of fever he had gotten used to after suffering Andres lashes. He still doubted he would be moving quickly anytime soon, and gently moved to test how painful his back was. The sharp stinging had subsided and was replaced with a deep aching sore feeling, again one he could cope with. He made the observations automatically, he had always done so had learnt long ago to judge how able or maybe how unable he was. Now was no different, he needed to know that if it came to it he could fight and judging from his observations he knew he was still too weak to hold his own. Yet that had little to do with the fever or the welts on his back.
He had grown accustomed to going days without food, and his body and mind managed well without any substance, providing he had water. The tankard of water the captain had gave him before he fell sleep had been his first in days. Before the pirates had sunken the ship he was aboard, he had been locked in the brig again by Derek, accused of stealing food, an accusation that was false. He would have gone down with the ship if it had not been for Eleanor, she had not let him free on purpose but had instead ran to the brig to be safe. He figured her reasoning was not all that wrong it was the furthest place from the deck and she did not conceive the ship would sink. Seth however had known otherwise, he had almost left Eleanor where she was but at the last moment had taken her with him to the deck so they could abandon ship.
He held no feelings for the so called lady but she had mistakenly saved his life and he liked to settle his debts in life, true that most ended in blood shed., but on this occasion it didn’t, not that lady Eleanor faired any better from his repayment. He wondered how the lady was holding up and laughed inwardly he was sure she was now wishing he had left her behind. Though he somehow knew that wouldn’t be the case, Lady Eleanor had something most noble blood doesn’t, a desire to live through anything. She would adapt because she had to, because it would be a better choice than death. He had to admire that kind of strength, even though he regarded her as a whore, true she never took money for her services, but she always expected something in return. In his eyes that made her a whore.
It was the gentle but rough hand against his head that stirred him from his sleepy thoughts and the words he heard forced him to open his eyes. It was difficult to wake from the deep sleep,e specially as he was not used to it and because he felt weak from lack of food and water. He wondered briefly who Babette was and looked at the captain with eyes that were sleepy but more aware and focused now that the last time they had looked at the captain. Not that Seth recalled the last time. His eyes were cold now as he looked at the man before him and the usual smirk returne dto his lips, as he spoke his voice was hoarse and strained.
“I don’t need any ministrations from anyone, especially not from someone called Babette”
Seth raised himself on to his elbows and felt his head swim and was sure he would black out but he forced himself to stay conscious and shook his head slightly.
“and as much as I have enjoyed your company Captain I had my own plans for when I reached port, if you no longer have any use for me”
His words were sharp and whilst he did not believe for one moment the captain would turn him free, he couldn’t resist, because whilst he was in every way the captains prisoner, he had no intention of acting like one. He wondered briefly what would happen when the got to port and was glad he was not as feverish as he had been, at least now he felt more able to take care of himself. Deciding that thinking such things over was pointless, Seth would handle it as it came, like he always did but for now his mind was far from escape as he looked at the captain. He ran his eyes over the captains body and felt his body heat up as he thought of the night he had been taken so had by this man. He felt the familiar stirring in his **** and smiled his come **** me smile whilst looking at the captains crotch.
“it is a shame that we will be parting company so soon though, because I had a fair few ideas on just how you could use me”
Last edited by MarkL15, 1/25/2006, 8:25 am
---
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Goo Goo Dolls - iris
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1/25/2006, 8:19 am
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wanderingsoul
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Re: The Captain's Favor
He stood up when the boy opened his eyes. He half expected more delirium and was a little surprised by the clarity in those eyes—which were back to looking both blue and green at the same time. But the insolent smirk didn’t surprise him.
He remained silent as the boy spoke, listening more to the sound of his voice than to his words. It was hoarse and strained, but held a defiance that was foolhardy, given the situation the boy was in. But he doubted the boy was a fool. And he doubted it was mere bravado either. The boy had a backbone. And a great deal of insolence, he noted with some amusement, as the boy’s eyes traveled over every inch of his body. And there was no mistaking the look on the boy’s face as his eyes lingered over the front of his breeches.
Thorne threw back his head and laughed. “Aye, lad, I’ll wager you’ve more than a few ideas.” He ran his hand over the front of his breeches. “I’ve a few of my own. Like as not they’re a bit of the same.”
He grabbed the tankard from his desk. It was full of reasonably fresh water and he held it out to the boy. “Ye still have a bit of the fever. And ye do need ministrations unless ye want to stay weak as a kitten. Though ye’ll like as not be too much trouble any other way.”
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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1/26/2006, 1:02 am
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MarkL15
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Re: The Captain's Favor
Seth felt his smirk turn to a genuine smile at the laughter and felt his own laughter build but did not let it pass his lips though the amusement danced in his eyes. It was a good deep warm laugh one Seth had rarely heard, most laughs were false or cruel and it was a pleasant surprise to hear it from the captain.
Seth watched the captain run his hand over his breeches and felt the smirk return along with a warm pleasurable feeling deep in his groin. Seth noted the considerable size of the captain through his breeches which was not fully hard and wished he had been more conscious to fully appreciate a **** that size being rammed inside him. He wondered if the captain would **** his mouth as hard and licked his lips slowly, deciding he could push the captain to that if he didn’t naturally get there. He was talented with his mouth, especially when it had a **** to torture.
Seth drew his gaze slowly over the rest of the man and enjoyed the view, smirking at the captains words,
“Aye captain, I would wager they are very much the same”
He noted how rough his voice was and whilst he had allowed lust to show in his voice it was the dryness in his mouth and throat causing the rough voice he spoke with. He wondered if the captain read minds and thankfully took the tankard with a small nod of thanks. He sipped slowly, knowing he would only fell sick if he drank too fast all the while he watched the captain with quiet thoughtful eyes.
He listened to the captains words but was more listening to the voice, it was warm and rich and despite the pirate talk it was well educated , not the voice of a man who has always been a pirate. He continued to watch the captain slowly sipping the water, he was intrigued by the captain and what his story was and why a man who had surely been well schooled was now the captain to a pirate ship.
He replaced the tankard and dropped back onto the soft covers, stretching like a lazy cat, his back burned as he stretched but he continued to stretch absorbing the pain.
“Ever noticed that a weak kitten can become a vicious attacker if threatened?”
He smirked as despite the fever still raging through him the weak feeling he knew if it came to it He would hold his own, he would probably die but he was far from defenceless.
“All I need is a little food and a little more water to put me right”
Seth laughed then rolled onto his back stretching his body, ignoring the pain and finally removing his gaze from the captain.
“and I am always too much trouble”
---
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Goo Goo Dolls - iris
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1/26/2006, 7:45 pm
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wanderingsoul
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Re: The Captain's Favor
It struck Thorne that the boy looked quite at home in the Captain’s bed and wondered about the others whose beds he had occupied. The had not been kind men, of that he was certain. There was no fear in the boy. And he seemed as comfortable with his pain—now that he was conscious enough to be in control of himself—as he was with his pleasure. A boy—or a man—did not become so at ease with pain from a gentle hand. And the boy’s lack of fear in his current situation most likely meant he had been in worse.
“Yes, but a vicious kitten is still a kitten,” Thorne commented as he sat down in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Ye’ll have plenty of food and water when we get to shore.”
He watched the boy roll onto his back and knew the pain he must be feeling. But there was not a flicker of it in his eyes. He admired that in any man. Not so much the ability to hide his pain, but to accept it, almost embrace it. It was something he, himself, had learned at a young age. You couldn’t ignore pain. You couldn’t just wish it away. You had to take the pain to yourself, embrace it, made it your own—then you owned it. If you owned something, it did not own you and you were in control.
“I’ve no doubt you do tend to be too much trouble. But everything has a cost. The higher the value, the greater the cost. The greater the pleasure, the greater the pain. Perhaps you will be worth the trouble.” He shrugged. “And perhaps not. Time will tell. What is your name, boy?”
He emphasized boy, suspecting full well that it might irritate the lad. How much would he have to irritate him to see something flicker in his eyes? It would be a challenge, to see in what way and how far he would have to push the boy before he would show what he was truly feeling. And he might grow weary of the game before he won it. But he was certain of one thing—he would have the boy again, only the next time he would be fully conscious and without the benefit of a shredded back as a distraction. And he felt his **** ache at the thought of what that moment might be like.
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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1/30/2006, 4:56 am
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MarkL15
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Re: The Captain's Favor
Seth rolled his head to the side to allow himself to watch the captain and smiled at the thought of getting plenty of food and water once they hit shore. He had rarely had plenty to eat and drink and highly doubted a captain of a pirate ship would allow him plenty to eat and drink, enough perhaps but not plenty. He had seen some hint of kindness in the captain but was not fooled, some men could be kind, but most chose to be cruel. He didn’t doubt the captain was any different yet a part of him had to wonder, something about those eyes, made him question his cynical way of judging men.
The familiar smirk returned to Seth’s lips as he listened to the captain and he rolled onto his side resting his head on his hand. Now he had had some water and had no reason to fight for himself he felt the tired drained feeling wash through him. He didn’t comment on whether he would be worth the trouble, he had no illusions about himself and knew you were only worth something to someone if they were getting something from you. Even then it was only a matter of time before your worth ran out and you were replaced or tossed aside.
Seth felt his smile falter and contemplated giving the captain a false name as he had since he was a boy, in every town he became another person with another name. Though as he was about to use his ship name that Eleanor and the others knew he felt the words die in his throat. He felt the desire to tell the man before him his true birth name and seemed unable to stop the name rolling off his tongue.
“Seth”
The name felt alien to him not as comfortable as many of his false name had before and he felt anger burn inside, not at the captain but at himself. He had never shared his true name since leaving his birth home many years ago and had sworn he never would. He felt the anger burn in his eyes and spoke more clearly,
“My name is Seth”
He forced the anger back down and accepted his screw up, deciding it wouldn’t hurt, however he knew better. The reason he never used his real name was to protect himself, the real him and if he wasn’t Seth he could never be hurt.
Seth was distracted as he noticed the captain looking at him with lust in his eyes, it was there only a moment but it had been there. The smirk slid easily back onto his lips as did the coldness in his eyes, he knew what had been on the captains mind and wondered when the captain would indulge in those feeling of lust.
“and do I get the pleasure of knowing what name to call out whilst being ****ed?”
The warmth of the fever made him feel warm and sleepy like a cat, and he stretched almost purring at the nice sleepy feeling, knowing sleep was not far away unless the captain decided to wake him. He knew the fever was not as bad as it had been and because of that he would sleep lightly, ready to awake if needed but for now he would rest. Instinct told him he would need his energy once he reached the shore. Seth had learned to rely on his instincts. It was after all why he was still alive.
---
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Goo Goo Dolls - iris
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1/31/2006, 8:28 pm
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wanderingsoul
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Re: The Captain's Favor
Thorne raised his eyebrows slightly as he saw the flash of anger in the boy’s eyes as he spoke his name. It was almost as if the boy—Seth--hadn’t meant to say his name. And that thought was reinforced by the way he repeated his name, the anger in his eyes taking on a look of defiance.
”My name is Seth.”
Seth. He repeated the name in his head as he looked at the boy. “Seth,” he said out loud, letting his tongue caress the soft sounds of his name. It was not a name that could be spoken harshly. The best that could be done would be to say it with a sharp hiss. Yet even that would sound more like a rough caress than angry slap. No, Seth was a name to be whispered against an ear or the back of a neck—or into the soft coolness of silken hair.
He felt heat spreading through his groin. He had not gone without sexual pleasure—if perhaps not quite satisfaction—on this voyage. And he’d had a full measure of such pleasure only a few hours previous. There was no reason his thoughts alone should be stirring his ****. He stood up quickly and turned away, taking a moment to slip on his jacket, despite the heat of the evening. When he turned back to the boy—to Seth—he had his thoughts, and his body under control.
“If you are capable of speech while I am ****ing you, Captain will do.”
Though he doubted the boy even heard him. His eyes were all but closed and he knew feverish sleep stalked him once more. At this rate, he would be carrying him ashore. As he left his cabin and headed to the bridge, his lips twitched at the thought of the look on Devereaux’s face were he to actually do that.
***
He had an experienced crew. There was not a one of them who hadn’t been at sea since they were young lads. Even the few of them who were still young lads had spent more time on the deck of a ship than they had on dry land. And there was not a one of them who would be anywhere other than where they were supposed to be when the sails needed to be raised or lowered. Pirates they might all be with any one of them ready to slit a throat without a second’s thought, but they knew their lives depended upon the ship upon which they all sailed. And they knew their lives also depended upon maintaining the captain’s favor.
So Thorne knew his presence on the bridge was not strictly necessary. Devereaux could handle the helm better than he, himself, could, if the truth be told. There was a skill and a sensitivity in those long, thin fingers that could guide the ship through the narrowest channel by feel alone. But it was he that the crew looked to, not Devereaux. So it was he who gave the final commands that brought them smoothly into port.
He clapped Devereaux on the back and flashed him a smile that was genuine. “Well done, as always.” He turned away and took a deep breath, inhaling the unmistakable smells of life on land. “As much as I love the sea, it will be good to feel solid ground beneath my feet. He ran his fingers through his hair. “And it will be good to get a hot bath and wash the salt from my hair.”
“Aye, cap’n, a sof’ bed an’ a softer wench is wha’ I fancy,” Devereaux replied, looking at Thorne’s back. It wasn’t really a wench he fancied in that bed. But he doubted the captain would give him such favor now that they were in port. Not with Babette waiting for her cher capitaine with open arms and open legs, nor with that boy in his cabin. Which would the captain choose? Or would he have both of them in the same soft bed? Devereaux’s fingers tightened on the helm, causing a slight bumping of the ship against the dock.
Thorne cast a quick glance at Devereaux. He frowned slightly but didn’t comment on the bump. The man’s jaw was as tight as his fingers. It didn’t take much imagination to guess the direction of Devereaux’s thoughts. At the very least, this stay in port would be…interesting.
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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4/28/2006, 1:35 am
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