The Turning of the Tides
folder
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › Slash - Male/Male › Jack/Will
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
14
Views:
6,996
Reviews:
48
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › Slash - Male/Male › Jack/Will
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
14
Views:
6,996
Reviews:
48
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 4
TITLE: The Turning of the Tides 4/?
AUTHOR: Seraphina (lealea55@hotmail.com)
PAIRING: eventual Jack/Will slash
RATING: Eventual NC-17
SUMMARY: While looking for Jack in Tortuga, Will find himself in a bit of trouble with the local females of the whoring kind.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never were and unfortunately, never will be.
CHAPTER 4
The Isla la Tortuga had not changed in the few months that that had passed since Will Tuner was first introduced to the pirate-infested island. Everywhere that the young man walked, as he dodged livestock and drunken brawls, he was met by the smell of rum, cheap perfume and in the darker allies, pig shit.
Yes, Tortuga was definitely the same old hovel and the thought was somewhat comforting to Will as he strode into his fifth tavern for the night. The others had proved fruitless and Will was beginning to think that coming to Tortuga had been a somewhat pointless exercise.
The problem with looking for Jack was that he was notoriously well known. Any whore that Will enquired as to the pirate’s whereabouts claimed that she’d bedded him not five minutes ago. Any pirate he asked had apparently just slitted the bastard’s gullet and plundered the corpse and it would seem that every barkeep in the uncivilised settlement had at some stage that night given Jack a tankard of their finest rum on the house. And although a man could technically only be killed once, all of these were possible truths. Will sincerely hoped that if Jack was around he had not met an untimely demise, whilst the idea of Jack whoring his way around the island didn’t sit too comfortably with the boy either, although for the life of him he didn’t know why. So he pushed it to the back of his mind as he entered the rowdy establishment and concentrated on the task at hand.
The Faithful Bride had been the inn that Jack, in a strike of what he’d thought to be genius, had struck a deal with Joshamee Gibbs. For this reason Will had tried to avoid the place at all cost, the memories of the conversation of ‘leverage’ that he’d overheard making him feel uneasy. Of course Jack had turned out to be an ally-Will wouldn’t be in Tortuga now if he wasn’t- the inn was a reminder to him that the adventure he’d had with Jack could have ended very differently. But having been unsuccessful in his search so far, he decided to give the Bride a chance before he turned in for the night.
Upon his arrival at Tortuga, he had managed to acquire one of the only rooms on the island that wasn’t let out by the hour and while it wasn’t by any means what one would call impressive, it did the job nonetheless. So what if it was far more sanitary to sleep on the cold, hard floorboards than to risk a night lying on the lice-infested mattress? If everything went to plan, he wouldn’t be there for much more than a day anyway. But then again, how often did things go to plan?
As he entered the stinking beer hall, Will strode purposely past the other patrons and serving wenches towards the shadowy depths of the far wall. At the previous taverns, he’d walked right up to the bar and asked the clientele that stood there if they’d seen or heard word of the elusive captain but this time he had decided to try a different tactic.
Taking a seat on a bench in the back corner, Will decided that it was fair and reasonable to assume that if Jack was in Tortuga or had at least been there recently, there would be talk. All Will would have to do was to sit back and wait for the information he sought to present itself to him. People in these kinds of places were suspicious by nature and Will figured that he wasn’t doing himself and favours by asking around for Jack. People either loved or despised the pirate captain and Will didn’t need any run-ins with those of the latter frame of mind.
His plan of going incognito may have been pulled off smoothly if the barkeep-who was also, as luck would have it, a pimp- had not spotted him with no drink and no woman when the clothes that Will wore (a gift from Elizabeth on their parting) suggested that he could afford several of both.
With no more than a whistle and a head gesture from the grisly looking man, Will was set upon by a hoard of working girls, who shoved heaving bosoms and flagons of ale in his direction. Will was reminded of a pack of hyenas, the gauchely painted faces laughing maniacally as they circled and pawed him, snapping at each other in an attempt top making him their prey.
He yelped vainly and attempted to batter away their filthy, groping hands when he felt the load lighten somewhat as someone from behind dragged a few of the more ambitious girls off of him. The group of whores parted before his eyes, not unlike the Red Sea although the experience he was having was far from being biblical in any way and the whore now standing in front of him, the likes for which the word buxom had been invented, was certainly not any relation to Moses.
She loomed over him, hands on big hips, breast pushed up so high by the evidently too small corset that a hint of rouged nipples could be seen peeping out over the top of the whale-boned contraption.
She cast her eyes around her fellow whores daring them to interfere then opened her mouth.
“This ‘ere is a fine gentleman.”
A gentleman? Well yes, Will guessed that he was a fine gentleman in the eyes of people like this; people like this being those who thought it unhealthy to bathe more than once in a cycle of the moon and to whom the term ‘law’ was a foreign word.
“An’ what do we do to a fine gentleman such as the one we ‘av ‘ere?” The huge woman swung her hips as she took a few steps closer to the young and presently cowering blacksmith.
To Will, her voice seemed to boom around the entire establishment but no one else appeared to have noticed what was going on in the corner of the tavern. They were too busy cheating at cards, partaking in bar fights and whoring. Will and his present company were of little or no concern to this bunch. He’d warrant that the barkeep couldn’t give a brass razoo as to how his girls went about their jobs as long is it was done and he got his cut.
“We treat ‘im wiv the respect tha’ a fine gentleman be desrvin’. That is to say tha’ we let ‘im choose who ‘e beds an’ not t’other way ‘round.”
She stopped looking around at the other girls who had gone quiet since her arrival and looked at Will, her stern features a little whilst still keeping an intimidating air. Dark greasy hair hung limply around an equally greasy visage and a big, chunky neck, the likes of which Will was sure he couldn’t fit his hands around, held her large head onto her proportionately large shoulders.
This was obviously Will’s cue to say something but as he looked around at the horseshoe of painted ladies gawking at him, his mouth flapped open and closed, unable to find any words that might save him from the horror that cast her shadow over him now. ‘Large’ was the word that seemed to resonate around Will’s head as he looked at her…he couldn’t *help* but look at her due to her largeness. All this made Will feel very small indeed.
The Madam’s hands moved from her hips, to cross her arms at her chest, pushing her ample breasts higher if that were at all possible.
“Well Sir, I was thinkin’ it customary for a gentleman such as yerself to at least compliment a lady on ‘ow she be lookin’.”
She lifted a thin drawn on brow and looked expectantly at Will. He squirmed on the hard wooden bench seat, wishing for all the world that he’d forgotten about Jack Sparrow and returned to his life as a blacksmith without complaint. Speaking of Jack, why couldn’t this ‘woman’ just slap him like every other female on the planet seemed to do to the pirate and leave him in piece although he had a sneaking suspicion that any strike he received from this woman would leave him with a broken jaw.
“Well?”
He shifted slightly under her gaze and said very quietly. “Yo-you-your nipples seem to be showing…buttheyareverynice.”
There was pregnant pause during which every whore seemed to stare at him, kohl-streaked eyes wide and waiting for the Madam’s response.
As it were, despite being momentarily struck dumb, the huge woman threw her head back and laughed, a deep guttural sound that had her entire form jerking under the confines of the corset. If a laugh could ever be described as ‘large’ then this was it.
She looked at him, kohl running down her face as her eyes watered in an attempt to recover from her attack of mirth.
“Oh lad but ye are a green’un.”
Will smiled nervously. At least he seemed to have gotten himself out of this one and he would be left alone to continue his look out for Jack Sparrow.
“Ain’t ‘e precious girls?”
There was a raucous giggle of response that sounded more like a gaggle of geese than anything else.
Will sighed with relief as the Madam began to move away but the nervous smile was wiped off his face as she called back over her shoulder, “Flora, Fanny and Anneliese; take care of our esteemed guest!” and Will was set upon, once again disappearing under squealing prostitutes and a flurry of dirty skirts.
AUTHOR: Seraphina (lealea55@hotmail.com)
PAIRING: eventual Jack/Will slash
RATING: Eventual NC-17
SUMMARY: While looking for Jack in Tortuga, Will find himself in a bit of trouble with the local females of the whoring kind.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never were and unfortunately, never will be.
CHAPTER 4
The Isla la Tortuga had not changed in the few months that that had passed since Will Tuner was first introduced to the pirate-infested island. Everywhere that the young man walked, as he dodged livestock and drunken brawls, he was met by the smell of rum, cheap perfume and in the darker allies, pig shit.
Yes, Tortuga was definitely the same old hovel and the thought was somewhat comforting to Will as he strode into his fifth tavern for the night. The others had proved fruitless and Will was beginning to think that coming to Tortuga had been a somewhat pointless exercise.
The problem with looking for Jack was that he was notoriously well known. Any whore that Will enquired as to the pirate’s whereabouts claimed that she’d bedded him not five minutes ago. Any pirate he asked had apparently just slitted the bastard’s gullet and plundered the corpse and it would seem that every barkeep in the uncivilised settlement had at some stage that night given Jack a tankard of their finest rum on the house. And although a man could technically only be killed once, all of these were possible truths. Will sincerely hoped that if Jack was around he had not met an untimely demise, whilst the idea of Jack whoring his way around the island didn’t sit too comfortably with the boy either, although for the life of him he didn’t know why. So he pushed it to the back of his mind as he entered the rowdy establishment and concentrated on the task at hand.
The Faithful Bride had been the inn that Jack, in a strike of what he’d thought to be genius, had struck a deal with Joshamee Gibbs. For this reason Will had tried to avoid the place at all cost, the memories of the conversation of ‘leverage’ that he’d overheard making him feel uneasy. Of course Jack had turned out to be an ally-Will wouldn’t be in Tortuga now if he wasn’t- the inn was a reminder to him that the adventure he’d had with Jack could have ended very differently. But having been unsuccessful in his search so far, he decided to give the Bride a chance before he turned in for the night.
Upon his arrival at Tortuga, he had managed to acquire one of the only rooms on the island that wasn’t let out by the hour and while it wasn’t by any means what one would call impressive, it did the job nonetheless. So what if it was far more sanitary to sleep on the cold, hard floorboards than to risk a night lying on the lice-infested mattress? If everything went to plan, he wouldn’t be there for much more than a day anyway. But then again, how often did things go to plan?
As he entered the stinking beer hall, Will strode purposely past the other patrons and serving wenches towards the shadowy depths of the far wall. At the previous taverns, he’d walked right up to the bar and asked the clientele that stood there if they’d seen or heard word of the elusive captain but this time he had decided to try a different tactic.
Taking a seat on a bench in the back corner, Will decided that it was fair and reasonable to assume that if Jack was in Tortuga or had at least been there recently, there would be talk. All Will would have to do was to sit back and wait for the information he sought to present itself to him. People in these kinds of places were suspicious by nature and Will figured that he wasn’t doing himself and favours by asking around for Jack. People either loved or despised the pirate captain and Will didn’t need any run-ins with those of the latter frame of mind.
His plan of going incognito may have been pulled off smoothly if the barkeep-who was also, as luck would have it, a pimp- had not spotted him with no drink and no woman when the clothes that Will wore (a gift from Elizabeth on their parting) suggested that he could afford several of both.
With no more than a whistle and a head gesture from the grisly looking man, Will was set upon by a hoard of working girls, who shoved heaving bosoms and flagons of ale in his direction. Will was reminded of a pack of hyenas, the gauchely painted faces laughing maniacally as they circled and pawed him, snapping at each other in an attempt top making him their prey.
He yelped vainly and attempted to batter away their filthy, groping hands when he felt the load lighten somewhat as someone from behind dragged a few of the more ambitious girls off of him. The group of whores parted before his eyes, not unlike the Red Sea although the experience he was having was far from being biblical in any way and the whore now standing in front of him, the likes for which the word buxom had been invented, was certainly not any relation to Moses.
She loomed over him, hands on big hips, breast pushed up so high by the evidently too small corset that a hint of rouged nipples could be seen peeping out over the top of the whale-boned contraption.
She cast her eyes around her fellow whores daring them to interfere then opened her mouth.
“This ‘ere is a fine gentleman.”
A gentleman? Well yes, Will guessed that he was a fine gentleman in the eyes of people like this; people like this being those who thought it unhealthy to bathe more than once in a cycle of the moon and to whom the term ‘law’ was a foreign word.
“An’ what do we do to a fine gentleman such as the one we ‘av ‘ere?” The huge woman swung her hips as she took a few steps closer to the young and presently cowering blacksmith.
To Will, her voice seemed to boom around the entire establishment but no one else appeared to have noticed what was going on in the corner of the tavern. They were too busy cheating at cards, partaking in bar fights and whoring. Will and his present company were of little or no concern to this bunch. He’d warrant that the barkeep couldn’t give a brass razoo as to how his girls went about their jobs as long is it was done and he got his cut.
“We treat ‘im wiv the respect tha’ a fine gentleman be desrvin’. That is to say tha’ we let ‘im choose who ‘e beds an’ not t’other way ‘round.”
She stopped looking around at the other girls who had gone quiet since her arrival and looked at Will, her stern features a little whilst still keeping an intimidating air. Dark greasy hair hung limply around an equally greasy visage and a big, chunky neck, the likes of which Will was sure he couldn’t fit his hands around, held her large head onto her proportionately large shoulders.
This was obviously Will’s cue to say something but as he looked around at the horseshoe of painted ladies gawking at him, his mouth flapped open and closed, unable to find any words that might save him from the horror that cast her shadow over him now. ‘Large’ was the word that seemed to resonate around Will’s head as he looked at her…he couldn’t *help* but look at her due to her largeness. All this made Will feel very small indeed.
The Madam’s hands moved from her hips, to cross her arms at her chest, pushing her ample breasts higher if that were at all possible.
“Well Sir, I was thinkin’ it customary for a gentleman such as yerself to at least compliment a lady on ‘ow she be lookin’.”
She lifted a thin drawn on brow and looked expectantly at Will. He squirmed on the hard wooden bench seat, wishing for all the world that he’d forgotten about Jack Sparrow and returned to his life as a blacksmith without complaint. Speaking of Jack, why couldn’t this ‘woman’ just slap him like every other female on the planet seemed to do to the pirate and leave him in piece although he had a sneaking suspicion that any strike he received from this woman would leave him with a broken jaw.
“Well?”
He shifted slightly under her gaze and said very quietly. “Yo-you-your nipples seem to be showing…buttheyareverynice.”
There was pregnant pause during which every whore seemed to stare at him, kohl-streaked eyes wide and waiting for the Madam’s response.
As it were, despite being momentarily struck dumb, the huge woman threw her head back and laughed, a deep guttural sound that had her entire form jerking under the confines of the corset. If a laugh could ever be described as ‘large’ then this was it.
She looked at him, kohl running down her face as her eyes watered in an attempt to recover from her attack of mirth.
“Oh lad but ye are a green’un.”
Will smiled nervously. At least he seemed to have gotten himself out of this one and he would be left alone to continue his look out for Jack Sparrow.
“Ain’t ‘e precious girls?”
There was a raucous giggle of response that sounded more like a gaggle of geese than anything else.
Will sighed with relief as the Madam began to move away but the nervous smile was wiped off his face as she called back over her shoulder, “Flora, Fanny and Anneliese; take care of our esteemed guest!” and Will was set upon, once again disappearing under squealing prostitutes and a flurry of dirty skirts.