Legends of the Treasure Child

For the first time in his life, Jack discovered he had inhibitions. Jack had always drawn a clear line between rum, women and song, and men, sailing and buggering. Men had simply not been on his repertoire and he’d never felt like exploring the same side of the fence.
Jacking off next to other men was something he seldom did, so that had proven to be the first obstacle. Secondly and quite worse, was the fact that he lay half a meter away from his demon son who’d grown from an infant baby and into a juvenile in a matter of months, claiming that he’d no hidden agenda what so ever to Jack. Thirdly, said teen-ager had a sexual issue about Jack which didn’t sound healthy. Said teenager was currently fast asleep, so Jack decided to give it a go. He had to. Imaginary ants were crawling inside his thighs, burning as they reached his crotch. His erection was soon regained, but the touch and feel of his own flesh didn’t sit quite right in his hand. Something was off.
So Jack jacked off thinking about the gorgeous blonde harlot in Tortuga. Her silky, milky white skin, the powdered little nose and her small breasts pressed together in a beautiful yellow gown. Not made of silk of course but that was beside the point, Jack thought to himself. He felt his heartbeats quicken. John moved in his sleep, and Jack froze, holding his breath. After a few seconds, he continued. Ah yes, this was it, he thought to himself, speeding up the tempo, his slender fingers wrapped tightly around his straining cock, stroking up and down.
He imagined himself with her, his tongue way down her throat, his right hand fondling a milky white, full breast. They were standing at the docks of Tortuga, kissing, resting against a large pole. Her long legs were wrapped around his waist, her dress wrinkled and squeezed between them, and he was inside her warm, wet cave. He thrust into her, pounded away with all his might while she met every jolt, leaving kisses his lips, his face and his neck, nibbling on Jack’s ear.
In his fantasy he could almost feel how good she was, her willingness, and her seductive smile. It was a sunny day with some wind, and the waves kept crashing against the docks. In the blue sky he saw something approaching, flying towards them. He knew instantly what it was, and Jack’s eyes flew open, his hand stopping the stroking motion.

“Bloody hell…” Jack whispered a curse, sighing.
He closed his eyes, trying anew, but the docks had gone and he found himself in a fantasy where he was back on the ledge, looking down at the Fountain of Youth. The wind pulled at his hair, and he was naked, his erection jutting out in mid air. He grabbed hold of his erection, stroking himself while knowing exactly what waited behind his back. Something made him stay in the fantasy. Jack felt the unholy creature put its hands on his thighs below his buttocks, before he slid them upwards, caressing his backside, the small of his back up his spine all the way to his neck. The Thyrion took hold around his neck, lifting Jack by the neck in a comfortable manner. He lost his foothold, felt nothing under his feet, but couldn’t look down. He felt like he was dangling in free air, and kept jacking off, getting closer by the minute. He felt the tip of the demon’s enormous shaft tickle his cleft and Jack wriggled in his need to get it inside. He felt it teasing against his opening, leaving his cock for a moment while he adjusted himself onto the demon’s shaft, impaling himself on it.
Still hanging in midair with the ground somewhere far down there, Jack turned his attention back to his cock, sighing, breathing heavily, getting hornier by the second while he continued to stroke himself. He enjoyed the airy feeling, feeling his jaw getting sore from the pressure of being squeezed against gravity. It was so great to be in control for once, so great, so infinitely fantastic that it brought tears to Jack’s eyes. He convulsed, coming hard, spurting out into the open. Then, in his imagination, the Thyrion brought him onto safe grounds again, kissing him gently, caressing his shoulders and back, before Jack lay down to sleep in his arms. That’s how it should have ended. Should have.

Just as Jack was about to sit up and find something to wipe with, John turned around. He was fully awake, and Jack remembered there was a good chance he’d awakened John with his loud breathing. John took his right hand, and began to lick up Jack’s seamen, cleaning it completely before moving down to his thigh. There were some remains on the chrome of Jack’s cock, but Jack stopped him as John bent down, attempting to take it in his mouth.

“For Christ’s sake, John!” Jack muttered, shoving John aside and getting up to his feet.

“Did I do something to displease you, Father?” John asked politely.

“Displease me? Look, John, I didn’t ask for all of this madness, savvy?! I just want me life back! Heck, I want me Pearl back, me crew and me lasses, everything, just not this!” Jack exclaimed. “All I ask is a moment’s peace where I can be by me onesies and not under constant surveillance! To touch one’s privates in private is any man’s right, savvy? Where are ye goin’?”

“Outside, so you can have a moment’s peace” John said to him after having put on his clothes. He opened the cabin doors and went outside on deck in the rain and the wind. The cabin door slammed shut behind him, leaving Jack to himself. Jack stared at the door for a moment, actions sinking in. He just had a fantastic orgasm fantasizing about his rapist. He just blurted out to John about the misery of his life. John went outside. In the rain and the cold. Into the storm. John just left. Hm.

Will all of the sudden tore the door open, soaked to the bone, rain pouring down in streams on his face.

“John just jumped over board!” he shouted. They both ran outside to the railing from where John had disappeared. Jack instantly regretted everything he’d said, his fingers gripping the railing with whitened knuckles, calling out for John. It was a long, heartfelt cry, and the realisation of that he was all alone made Jack feel even more of a ghost than previous. He felt himself die a little more inside. The rain whipped down on his back as if it tried to punish him for shoving John out of his life. Jack sank to his knees, feeling his skin burn as an icy wave crashed upon the deck of the Dutchman. It had just been a small, careless comment. Could it really have done so much damage?