Will's Slavery or Slavery on the Seven Seas

Part 2

Jack’s POV:

I had to escape him, I did. Such creamy white skin. Soft lips. Frightened eyes. His body - slick with a fine sheen of sweat covering his form. He waaredared, uncertain, I could smell him. What is this curse he’s cast upon me? He saved me once, but the very depths of my soul scream out to keep him. I own him - got the bill to prove it. He’s mine.

I’ve been to cook and arranged hot water to be taken to my cabin, and now I take a stroll across the deck and sip my rum again. My lips feel dry, wanting, needing to kiss his. To take his. To make him mine.

I shudder. I’ve never felt this way before. Not for any living being. Only the Black Pearl. I run my hand along her wooden rung - I can feel her alive beneath my skin. She is my freedom. I know she’s a ship, but she gives me life - it’s the only life I’ve ever known. I run my hand across the hard wood, knowing she protects me. This ship is mine, and I got her through blood and sweat. I let go of the Pearl and touch my right thigh, and beneath the wool aineninen I can just feel the raised skin. You see I was sold out too. Sold to this ship’s Captain when I was but a boy, and I fought with everything I had to make the Pearl mine. That’s why the Black Pearl is my freedom. Why I won’t ever let her go.

A flash of memory burns in my mind. The slaver’s block. A young black haired boy. The pirate who buys him...brands him with fire and cock. The pirate that makes him cabin boy aboard the Black Pearl. I push the memories into the past - back where they belong and should never return.

Now what to do about me little Will? He’s mine. Like the Pearl is mine. I killed and sweated blood for this ship. I won’t let her go. I can’t let Will go. He’s mine. Belongs to me. Never owned nothing but the Pearl. Not gonna let him go, not going to lose Will like I nearly lost her. Oh no. Captain Jack Sparrow doesn’t go around losing things. He never lets them go. Unless it be me marbles of course, but they don’t matter. The truth is so simple. The Pearl is mine. Will is mine. He stays here with the Pearl and me. See - Simple.

I take another swig of rum and start to sing; -

//Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me.//

Will’s POV:

It’s not long before the Cook arrives with a couple of buckets of lukewarm water. He fills an old tin bath in the inner cabin and then leaves. I move from my hiding place and cautiously approach the bath. I hid from the cook, hiding my nakedness from him. Jack’s made me uneasy, untrusting. I fear others will use me...or... I don’t know. What do men and men do? My cheek burns with blushing and I quickly force my mind back to the bath. I decide to use the water, and clean myself of the slave ship and the dirt from being knocked around in the dirt by Jack. I still can’t believe he hit me...but then again, there’re so many things I don’t know about Jack Sparrow. He helped me save Elizabeth, but I don’t think that was to actually *help* me. He wanted the Pearl back, nothing more. So what am I? Can I trust him? Will he help me get home?

I wash quickly, though it’s a little difficult with the leg irons and the heavy metal collar, but I manage to get rid of the past few day’s dirt, leaving it as scum on the bath tub. I find a couple of ragged towels in the cabinet next to Jack’s desk, and dry myself off. Through my searching I’ve also discovered a pair of old trousers, now if I can just get my leg out of the irons, I could get them on.

I don’t...I think...I sigh. I think I really do need to escape the Black Pearl. It’s confusing, a part of me still trusts Jack. Still likes him in some strange and silly way. But he *is* a pirate and I’m thinking that I might return quicker to Port Royal on my own. I start to search the drawers of Jack’s desk and come across a long flint. Just what I need. I’ve been a blacksmith for a long time; I started my training when I was eleven. During that time, I’ve made irons such as these, and sometimes you don’t have the key right, so I learned how to pick locks. Which is really simple on these old things. After a lot of struggling I manage to free one leg, and leave the other to quickly cloth myself in the old trousers.

Suddenly, I hear a creak of wood and a door opens. Shit! That must be Jack coming into the outer cabin. I fasten the trousers, and make for a couple of windows on the opposite wall. It’s going to be a long drop, but at least I’ll be free. On the spur of the moment decision, I decide to run. I climb onto the wide windowsill and jump into the dark waters below.

“Willllll!”

I plunge into the cold waters; I guess taking a bath was pretty silly when I was going to do this. Cost me a lot of time. Though at that time, I didn’t know what I was going to do. A part of me still wants to climb aboard the Pearl and beg Jack to take me home. That part that still thinks he’ll listen. Now, however, I’ve made my decision to flee - no matter how ill considered - and I must stick by it. So with the heavy leg irons dragging me back, I put all my strength into swimming to shore.

Jack’s POV:

“Willlll!”

NO! He can’t escape me! I won’t let him! He’s mine.

I howl out into the darkness, watching as Will swims away from me, his silvery skin glowing in the moonlight. No! He is mine! I brought him. Gonna protect him too. Though the boy will have to learn that he is to obey me. Can’t have him running off. Oh no.

I run out of my cabin, and onto the deck. “Man overboard!” I yell to the two watchmen. There is a scurry of movement, and one of them dives into the water with a rope attached to the ship. Good crew - don’t ask questions and they obey me like they should. They don’t even wonder why they have to rescue someone while we’re in dock. I turn back to the cabin, going through to my bedroom, and stand before a large chest. I unlock it and pull out Will’s punishment. No one can get away with deserting ship without punishment. Not one of my crew, and certainly not my slave. I don’t want to do this but I have to. I have to make him see that running away will not be accepted.

I sigh, dropping to my knees before the wooden box, holding the device to my chest.

Maybe I should let him go...but he’s mine... Captain Jack Sparrow doesn’t let what’s his slip through his fingers. Oh no, I don’t. I lean my forehead against the chest lid. I have to be strong. I have to do this. Got to make sure Will knows his place. Got to.

Bloody hell, I need a drink.

“Capt’n sir, we have ‘im.”

I get to my feet, take a deep breath, and answer. “I’m comin’, tie the prisoner to the mast.”

I straighten my hat, and walk out on deck. My two watchmen are tying the white body of Will around the forward mast. He’s shivering. I catch a glimpse of blue fingers. I have to save Will from himself. He could have died out there. He’s mine. Not even death can have him.

“Prisoner tied, Capt’n.” The watchmen stand back, and I approach my escaped slave.

“Jack! What the hell are you doing? Let me go! Please, just let me go home!” Will cries, struggling with his bonds. He’s tied funny. He’s on his knees, the mast between them, and one rope goes around his waist holding him close, and both arms are tied around the circumference. He won’t be moving.

“Yer part of this crew now, Will,” I tell him, my voice low. I approach behind him, not letting him see what I have in store. “Yer belong to me. Yer have torn drn discipline. I canna have ya running off again.”

“Jack, please!” Will begs, struggling in his bonds.

I’m sorry, lad. It’s the only way.

I unfurl the cat of nine tails, taking the solid leather handle in my hand just so and then let loose. The rope tied ends of all nine lengths fly through the air towards Will’s pale back. With the moment of impact, he lets out a high-pitched scream of pain, which is mainly from surprise. With another flick of my wrist, the cat rears back and then I fling it forwards again onto that pale, pure skin. Oh, it hurts to see it redden, darken, and then the skin splits and red blood is spilt onto the decks. Again and again I swing, tears burning my eyes as I do. Will is screaming, begging me to stop, my name mixed in with the sounds of his pain. I cannot stop. He needs to be punished. He needs to learn his place.

Finally, after the tenth lash, I still my hand, the cat dropping to the deck. There’s blood on Will’s back, dark and dripping. Dripping down onto the Pearl herself. She’ll know his taste now, just as she knew mine when my Captain did this to me. The lad will be bound to her now, just as I am.

“Please, captain...please no more.”

Will sobs his words out. Captain has replaced ‘Jack’. My boy is learning.

Now, just one more thing to sort out, and then he’ll have learned his lesson.

“Pernin, bring me a hot iron,” I command one of wat watchmen. For a second, they don’t move, startled by what just happened, but Pernin quickly gathers his wits and runs to the hold.

“Will, my pretty,” I whisper, bending down to Will’s ear. He’s panting, tears dirtying his face. “I canna have yer running lad. You are mine. Remember that and I promise, this will *never* happen again.”

“Please, let me go home...” he sobs, his head crushed to the mast, so I can’t really see into his eyes.

“You are home, Will. Yer spilled blood on the Pearl, you belong with her...us now.”

“Oh god!” Will cries, his voice breaking. I know it hurts. Knowing that the Pearl has claimed you forever. He belongs here with her and me, till death and beyond.

“Now petal, I’m just gonna deal with that little mark on yer thigh.”

Will bellows as I bend down and rip the trousers from his form and his right scarred thigh is revealed to me. There is the slaver’s mark. It has two straight horizontal lines, and a sideways figure 8. Mmmm. I’m sure I can do something better than that.

To my pride, Pernin arrives with the hot iron, one with a pointed tip, and carefully hands it over to me. Now, it’s time I try my hand at some art.

Will howls from the pain of the hot iron touching his pale skin. It’s necessary however, and I grit my teeth. I can’t have him marked with another man’s brand. One day, the lad will understand why I have to do this. I slash at his thigh. A line here. An arrow there. A wriggly line...and perfect. Now a bird graces my pets’ thigh. A Sparrow. Wings outstretched, little pointed tail, head...oh the legs. There you go. My mark. Just the same as mine. Will passed out with the pain. He’ll understand when he wakes up and sees what had to be done.

“Pernin, take him below to my cabin.” The crewman runs forward and quickly unties my slave. He glances at me nervously, hands trembling. Within seconds, Will’s free of the mast and his bloodied form is lifted into Pernin’s arms. The large crewman carries my pet deep into the ship, to my rooms, and lays him gently upon my bed. I bid him goodnight and the crewman leaves. See? Perfect obedience.

I turn Will onto his front, and tear off the ruined remains of his trousers. His back is black and blue from his beating, and the brand on his thigh inflamed. Not to worry, Captain Jack Sparrow has the answer. I open a new bottle of rum and poor it over his back.

“ARGHHHH!” Will screams, the shock of the alcohol on his wounds instantly bringing him round.

“Shhh, pet. The rum will clean yer back.” I splash more onto his broken skin, moving down his spine until I reach his buttocks. Round and juicy they are. Perfect. I continue on and pour more alcohol onto the brand. It burns, and Will yells even more. Finishing that, I pick up a cloth and clean his wounds. Will has already passed out once again, the pain too much to bear. It was necessary though. He had to learn not to run. The brand had to be replaced...I couldn’t bear to see the mark of another man upon him.

I clean him up, remove the last of the slaver’s hateful chain and despicable collar, and then let him sleep. I’ll buy him a nice new collar in the future - a present when he’s behaved. After I strip off my own clothing, I climb into the double-sized bunk, carefully resting beside Will and I put my hand upon his unmarked butt. I close my eyes and let sleep take me, safe and whole now. I have the Pearl and Will, nothing more matters.

Will’s POV:

I awake in pain. My whole back and thigh burn like hellfire. The memories of yesterday slowly return to my pain fogged brain, and I remember Jack whipping me for trying to escape. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. I’m not a slave. I’m a free man. He can’t keep me here.

Very slowly, I try and crawl out of the bunk, but suddenly come face to face with two burning, black-coloured eyes.

“Whatcha’ doing luv?” Jack purrs, his hand running from my butt down my leg. I shiver at the intimate touch, trying to back into the wall behind me.

“Don’t touch me,” I growl.

“Now luv, no need to be gettin’ all huffy. Ya tried to run, and that’s a punishable offence with pirates...and with slaves.” He smiles, his hand becoming firmer on my skin.

“I’m not yours,” I whisper. My body begins to tremble at his touch, if he can whip me - what more can he do?

“Yes, ya are, Will. Mine.” His voice is slightly rough with either passion or anger, I can’t tell anymore. I only know that I fear this man. “Now, we should really begin your trainin‘.”

“Training?” I squeak.

“Aye, all slaves need training,” Jack leers, and his dark, dirt coloured hand makes its way back up my leg to my waist. His skin is so dark against mine. “First, let’s see how aroused yer are?”

“W-what?”

I try to pull away but the rough hands slide over my waist and grab my semi-hard cock. I’m a growing boy and morning erections are *still* on the menu. I yelp like a girl as he gives me a squeeze. I’m about to shove him off, but he looks up at me with such...such power in those eyes that I freeze. “Didn’t give yer permission to touch, luv,” he growls.

With a sore back, I lean against the wall on my side of the cot, with legs open and Jack jerking me off. I moan as the pleasure of his rough strokes arouse even though I don’t desire his touch. I don’t look up into his eyes a second time, I keep my head down, eyes on his hands. Oh, his hands. My eyes finally fall closed with denied pleasure, and suddenly something is wrapped around my length. I cry out, eyes wide and with utter shock I stare down at Jack wrapping a leather strap around the base of my cock. The pain of denied orgasm burns through me, growing worse as he ties it around my balls as well.

“Bugger!” I yell, my head falling back and banging against the outer wooden wall.

“First lesson, I want you hard. Second, you never come until I let you.”

The words make me shiver uncontrollably, and as his hands leave me I bring my legs to my chest and wrap my arms around them. My lower regions ache and my back burns from the lashing. My hip is one raw patch of pain, and I’m in bloody misery!

Jack says nothing as he rolls off the bed and starts to dress. I won’t look at his lithe naked body. Or the scars. Or the tattoos. Okay, I had a quick look. He’s got a fine build, thin but perfectly well proportioned, strong muscle lines, and with an amazing bone structure. It’s the first time I’ve ever looked at a naked man...he’s kinda nice to look at. With immense confusion I push those thoughts aside and consider my situation.

However, my concentration is broken when Jack speaks, “Will, on yer front so I can look at ya back.”

Strangely I act on his command. The fear of the lashing last night seems to have gotten rid of that disobedient streak in me for the moment and I lie down on my front. He had better not think about resting easy because as soon as I can I’ll find a way off this ship without him capturing me again, and then I’m gone.

“There’ not so bad,” Jack comments as he runs a hand down my back. I groan in pain as he irritates the fleshly scabbed cuts and bruises. “Reckon those will heal without scarring. Just remember lad, I went easy on yer last night. I won’t be doing it again.”

I shudder at those words. Easy!? It feels like my whole back and buttocks have been scoured.

“Now stay ‘ere. I’ll be back with breakfast and you’ll learn some more.”

I don’t look around until Jack has gone out through the outer door. I shake of the feeling of anger and confusion. I have to find a way to escape. How to escape is the question? The crew will be back aboard now so jumping ship is out the question, someone will spot me and I refuse to be whipped again. Then there’s this damn tie around my blasted privates. I try to re-adjust my erect cock but touching only makes it hurt more. I could take it off...but would that lead to a lashing too? Damn it! Tears of confusion and frustration burn my eyes and I angrily brush them away.

What in heaven’s name am I going to do next?

Jack’s POV:

I have to get out of the cabin. Couldn’t stay a second longer with the lad. Especially naked, bound and with lovely confusion showing in his eyes and voice. Damn, wanted to touch him then. Hold him. Ohhhh, fuck him. I shiver and push the thought back. I have to get the ship underway; I need to be at sea while I teach Will his new job. A pirate’s life isn’t all treasure and adventure. Hell, most of the time it’s pretty damn boring. Months at sea spent waiting, watching, and waiting some more. Then suddenly, a merchant ship is spotted and then it’s all action and death. After that it’s either sink to the bottom of Davy Jones’s locker or wait some more. This time however, the waiting is gonna be very good, and as I make the ship ready to sail I’ve only one thought on my mind.

Pretty boy in my cabin waiting for me - what a thought!

Right back to work. Got to get the Pearl ready to sail and then we can have fun. I have plans for me little Will. Lots of plans. Always good with plans me...though mostly they get bodged up by silly buggers doing their own things, but this time Jack Sparrow is not going to be denied.

The crew, best I’ve ever had, make the Pearl ready to sail in less than an hour and we finally pull away from dock and glide across the shimmering sea towards the vast openness of the ocean beyond the islands. Out into freedom. I hand the wheel over to Anamaria, but before I leave for my cabin, I give the wheel one last pat.

“Don’t worry me lovely,” I tell the Pearl, “I’ll make sure pretty Will won’t be leaving us ever again.”

The Pearl answers back happily, her sails blowing in the wind and she cuts through the waters going further out into the wide blue yonder. She wants to keep the lad too. She owns him like I do. Blood and sweat, both his and mine, grease this ship and we’ll always be tied to her.

Finally, I leave her in good hands, and go back to my cabin, making one quick stop for a plate of bread and cheese before I greet my pet with breakfast and rules.

TBC