The Miniscule Victory of Davy Jones

3
In a cruel act of irony, the crew felt the need to mend the lash wounds upon Beckett’s frame before continuing what Jones had started. One of the pirates had found a fishing line and hook and was none too careful with his stitching either. The scars which would remain there would never fade completely, the fallen man knew.
“I’ll kill you…” Beckett managed to croak out once more when the sewing was finally finished.
“SHUT UP!” a pirate resembling driftwood yelled, and he took the fishing hook – a thick, dirty, horrid thing – and let it sink into Beckett’s skin, leaving it to hang from the nipple like perverted jewelry. Beckett’s arms flailed in their restraints and he shook against the weight of another pinning him down.
“Flip him over,” Maccus ordered, his shark’s grin looking ready to take a bite out of him. His hammerhead visage peered closely into Beckett’s fear-filled eyes before he pulled the newest crew member’s wig off and placed it on his own head.
“Lookit me, boys! I’m a Lord!”
“Well then, my lord,” Clanker said with the most mocking of amiable tones, “move the hell aside so I can get me a good poke!”
The kelp covered beast holding Beckett down tightened his grip as the prostrate man struggled to get up. His efforts only gave him greater pain, as he further agitated the hook buried in his skin. He felt claws against his back, where suction cups had only been minutes ago, and far more comfortable.
“You’d do better to stay still, lad,” he heard Maccus say above his head. “Because you’re sure to not like this one bit.”
The sound of a buckle being unfastened made Beckett’s heart rate increase, but he could not turn his head enough to see what else was happening. He knew what was going to occur soon anyway, and tried to let his body become limp, but fear assured that his body would not obey his brain’s command.
“I go next, right?” another voice said among the din.
Clanker grumbled at the skittering little pirate at his side. “When I’m done, and only when I’m done.” He then glanced at a few of his mates. “Spread the blighter’s legs.”
Beckett again tried to stammer out a threat, a defiance, anything… but the claws on his back tightened and his words became garbled. His legs were spread apart and held to the deck by the ankles and he knew he could only wait for the inevitable.
What he had no idea of was that Clanker’s own phallus matched the rest of his barnacle covered body. The scream which gushed from Beckett’s mouth was tainted with a horrible sob as he realized this terrible fact far too late. His attacker’s thrusts were hard and long, and thus each washed a wave of agony over his quivering body. Soon he realized that the crewman holding him down had let go, and Clanker’s thrusts were nudging his body forward little by little into the mast. He only closed his eyes in resignation as he collided with the wood, knowing that now the plunges into him would now be stronger, with his body having nowhere else to go.
When Clanker’s grip on his hips tightened and the monstrous pirate gave one last strangled grunt of pleasure, he released his seed. Seed could have possibly been taken literally, because this was no human fluid entering the submissive lord. No, this was something akin to grain, just as hard and just as painful. Beckett cried out again when the thug withdrew from his insides and buckled his trousers. Hot tears ran down his face, contorted in humiliated agony. He again felt his pulse beating in his brain like tribal drums, though his chest felt void as ever, and he thanked the heavens it was over.
“My turn, my turn!” the shrill voice belonging to Penrod cried with glee. Beckett let out a loud sob.
The small pirate who came forward resembled a lobster. Beckett recognized the antennae which drifted into his peripheral vision, as well as the insect-like limbs which could scarcely be called legs. However, the skittering thing was shoved aside, as another voice barked at him.
“You couldn’t plug a rat if you wanted to, Penrod!” the voice said in Chinese inflection.
“I’ll knock that puny head off your shoulders, ye knob. Now bend over and I’ll show ye how to fuck a rat!”
“Gents, don’t quarrel when you’ve got something beneath ye more worth spending your energy on,” Maccus reminded the two. The group chuckled and the two men who argued hesitated and finally nodded, smiling in a sinister fashion.
“I have an idea,” the Chinese pirate stated. “Why don’t we try ‘im on us together?”
After a pause, the shrimp of a man began to chuckle, understanding the suggestion.
“That may just be the perfect thing to do, Hadrus.”
Those who had been holding Beckett’s legs apart by the ankles still kept their grip. In fact they spread him out even further as his new assailants prepared themselves. Their groans and noises of motion suggested they were making themselves rigid in order to fully immerse their disfigured organs into their prisoner.
“Flip ‘im over again,” Hadrus said. “I wanna see the look on his face when we plug ‘im.”
The others did as told and somehow Beckett felt even more vulnerable in this position than that which he took before. The two pirates whose erect members stood like miniature cutlasses ready for disemboweling slowly approached, their expressions of impending pleasure chilling that void in their victim’s chest.
“Alright, ready?” Penrod asked, his many jointed legs intertwined with his fellow crewman.
Hadrus smirked, one prickly hand reaching down to spread apart the cheeks of Beckett’s rump.
“Definitely.”
Beckett squeezed his eyes shut at the following intrusion, his tormented grimace causing a clear act of mockery amongst the crew. They imitated his anguish and pinched at his cheeks as though he were a precocious child. Maccus even removed the tattered wig from his misshapen head and stuffed it in Beckett’s mouth to quiet the screams and further disgrace him.
Biting down hard on his wig, the dishonored man dared to open his eyes and saw that a small line had actually formed behind his two present invaders. He closed them again and winced away from the repulsive individual who was now caressing his body. This pirate seemed covered in jellyfish, strands of thick venomous tendril hair brushing against him and burning whatever skin they touched. As Hadrus and Penrod continued to plunge hard into Beckett, ramming him against the mast, the gelatinous creature nibbled with gapped jaws on sensitive earlobes and explored curves on the prostrate man’s body which would indeed cause great pain should Beckett try to move. All that the pitiful man could do was give a muffled weep, his screaming spent.
“FOOOGGGGGG!!” A voice suddenly rang out above the racket.
Jimmylegs roared out several commands to the crew and Koleniko dashed for the helm as the lamps were lit. Another pirate slapped Hadrus in the back of his conch shell head as a gesture for him to and his crustacean friend to hurry the hell up. Thus their drives into the snug passageway became quicker and more awkward until their icy, hard seed spewed forth. Their rough organs now satisfied and limp, the pair pulled out with a grinding wet sound accompanied by a cry from their source of indulgence.
Cutler Beckett stared down at the twisted metal hook hanging off of his breast, knowing he could never pull it out himself without taking most of the nipple with it. He yelped in fright when another pirate reached out to yank on the painful adornment.
“Oh leave it, Piper,” Penrod called back, “don’t be so cruel.”

To be continued...