Will's Slavery or Slavery on the Seven Seas

Part 5

Jack’s POV:

I awaken wrapped in warm sheets and an even warmer body. The soft breathing of the boy beside me blows air against my neck, a pleasant sensation. His weight is pressed against my side, a limber leg thrown over my hips to entwine between my legs. There is a tight hold where his arm is stretched around my stomach, with his hand pressing against my back. I’m learning that Will is more open in sleep and in the heights of passion. Sleeping, he curls around me. In passion, he clings to me. In waking he tries to run away either with body or mind. Will’s body knows I am his master. His mind doesn’t. His heart knows but he won’t hear it speaking the truth to him.

I too am wrapped around the boy, my arms holding him tight. One hand on his shoulder and the other resting on a pale, smooth hip. I love his hipbones. Smooth soft skin on top, and powerful muscles and bones below. The shape is perfect as I glide my hand over him, the rise and fall of his flesh, the perfect hollow where hip moves into groin leading across to a long, flaccid cock. Like hips, I do. Women’s hips. Girls hip’s. The flair of them. The feel of them under my hands. I like men’s hips, but so many of them lack the spread that Will has. His are like two mountains on either side of a valley, and in the centre is a beautiful fountain of sweet water. I move my hand lower, feeling the mountain - his hip - moving into the valley - his stomach - down to the geyser of sweet water. I stroke the soft cock in my hands, feeling the long shape, the small humps and hollows of veins, then further down the acorn head surrounded by the soft folds of foreskin. I pull it back slightly, letting a finger touch the sensitive glands underneath.

“Hmmm, Jack,” a sleepy voice hisses in my ear.

I told him that when he learns that I am Master he would be allowed to call me my by name. Though only during privates times like this.

“Touching is nice, Jack,” he says sleepily. He moves against me, his leg rising up to rest against my stomach, opening himself to my touches. I stoke him a little harder, my fingers wrapping around the body of his penis, to stroke up and down. On the down, I gently caress the soft foreskin, tugging it back before moving up to stroke the rest.

His breathing turns into pants against my shoulder and a soft tongue laps at my skin. Does he know what he makes me feel? My pretty Will. His hands dig in deeper, holding me tighter. I feel the leg against my stomach tremble, the muscles tightening and then relaxing as his desire rises. His leg moves up further, bending tighter. I want to touch him there. Further down. Behind his handsome cock and testes. Want to touch that small hole that is so open to me now.

“Will,” I groan, the thoughts of touching him making me hard. He’s oblivious to the power he holds. He’s ignorant of his attributes. The perfect skin. The perfect body. My perfect Will. I stop.

“Jack!” Will pleads, his hips twisting, trying to get the friction back.

I can’t do this. I want to bring him pleasure, but Will isn’t mine yet. He doesn’t recognise me as master. I quickly search the bed and find the leather strap. With one delft movement I bind his cock and scrotum preventing him anymore pleasure.

“What the!” Will shouts as I tie the knot. Hazel eyes are wide open, his mouth a shocked `O’. “Oh god, oh, oh,” he mumbles, he’s awake now and realises where and who’s bed he’s in. This is why there cannot be that tenderness between us, yet. He doesn’t want my touch.

Upon waking Will immediately untangles himself from me and backs off the bed. He lands with a thump, and yell. I rise slowly, watching him scurry away and then get to his feet.

“Kneel, Will,” I order as I reach for my breeches. Will doesn’t do anything, he just stares at me with furious eyes and clenching fists. “Will, kneel or go without breakfast.”

That makes him hesitate. He’s wondering if he can go without food this morning. If yesterday’s meals will be enough to last him the day. He decides not and slowly drops to his knees. I finish dressing in silence, his eyes following every move I make. I should berate him, but I like him watching me. I like being the centre of his attention. When I’ve finished, I find the piece of rope I used the day before to bind his wrists. Will tenses, his body swaying to the side because of the instinct to flee.

“Give me yer hands,” I growl. I change my mind as he offers me his wrists. “Cross them, behind ya.” Will hesitate, but does as I order. Moving behind him, I cross his wrists and tightly bind them together. I notice that the lashes on his back are healing well. There is also a nice stripe of welts from the belting I gave him too. Such pretty skin. Pretty wounds. Red against pale. A painting of pinks, reds and white on his skin.

After binding his wrists, I stroke his thick hair back and with a piece of cloth tie it at the nape. I caress my fingers over his head, down his face, feeling his eyes close as I touch him. His head dropping back ever so slightly when I reach his chin and neck. He likes the touches; he’s just denying himself. I have to change that. I have to make him wanton...but only to me.

“Remember our littl’ rules, pet?” I whisper, bending to reach his ear. He doesn’t answer. I know he wants to answer back with anger. He’s careful though. Will knows that there is no escape off a ship in the middle of the wide blue ocean. He’s clever, biding his time, planning for the opportunity. I smile, Will never was very good at grasping the opportune moments that present themselves. I hope that still holds true. I’ll never let him go.

I stoke my finger down the side of Will’s face and theab hab his chin with my hand. He bites off a yell as I yank his head back. Large terrified eyes stare into mine. “Yes,” Will grinds out.

There is no respect in that reply. I’ll remember that for later. “Here’s a new one. You’ll never touch yourself without my permission. That means everything and anything to do with yer body, Will. Cleaning. Toilet. Eating.”

“Go to hell,” he snarls back.

“Pretty, with yer hands behind ya back yer’ll have to ask.” I state the obvious.

Apparently, he didn‘t think of that. His head snaps away from me and he gives me an angry glare. I smile back.

“Now I‘m going up on deck. While I‘m there yer to kneel at me desk.” Will gives me a look of defiance. “Then if yer good, breakfast will be when I get back.” He reconsiders. I wrap my hand around his arm and Will rises to his feet. He says nothing as I lead him out into the main cabin, and he drops down beside the desk. He glares at me with fury but he doesn't say a word. I know that he ate little on the slave boat, and I hate using that against him, but it does give me some leverage.

I go up on deck, check the crew, give out orders and then take my leave of them. I meet the galley boy on the way back to my cabin. The young lad does the cleaning and serving, while helping the cook. He hands me the breakfast tray - a meal of bread and fruit this morning - and then leaves with a confused look on his face. By now the crew will know I have a slave on board, but it doesn’t mean I’m ready for them to see him just yet. He’s untrained and naked, no one can see him but me. I open the cabin doors and am surprised to see that Will is where I left him. Kneeling on the floor with his head turned towards the windows at the far end of the room, looking out at the clear blue skies. There is a sad look on that boyish face.

I place the tray down, noting that he hasn’t even looked in my direction yet. That infuriates me. Another note is made in my head. “Will, come here.” Will turns his head and to my amazement his eyes are blood shot and wet. Tears are falling from those bright eyes. Beautiful eyes.

“What would ye be thinking of, Will?” I ask, those eyes burning into my soul. I’ve shed enough tears in this cabin to last me a lifetime. I don’t want that for Will.

“I-I was thinking of Elizabeth.”

The bitch. No, that’s a bit strong. We’re the same she and I. Using and being used - that’s how we both treat people - situations. Told her that too. She didn’t deny it. She’d be using my pretty boy too.

“You love her?” I ask sitting down at the table and picking up an apple.

“I-I...” No words fall from his lips. He gazes at me as I slowly carve the apple with a knife from the tray. His eyes are glued to the movements of my hands as I cut it into pieces. Then his gaze is fixed onto my lips. At first I don’t see what he does. Then I realise. When concentrating sometimes I bite my lower lip, sucking it into my mouth. It’s a small thing that when I was young, in the service of my own master, he’d slap my face whenever I did it. I don’t do it often, but it happens without my knowing. An unconscious action.

“Ja-Captain, may I have breakfast?” He speaks softly, his eyes gazing my lips. I lick them, watching as he swallows with what could be nerves...or even desire. Likes my lips does he?

“Come here, kneel before me,” I direct, watching his lithe body rise and then drop to his knees before me. I carve a slice of apple, and put it half in my mouth. I lean forward and offer it him. Will stares, eyes flicking between my eyes and mouth. Then he slowly leans forward and takes the offering from me. My teeth breaks the slice in half and it falls onto his tongue. Will groans, chewing the slice and savouring the sweet tang.

“Yer like my mouth, don’t ya, Will?”

Will shakes his head, but when I offer him a second slice from between my lips he takes it eagerly.

“Don’t cha, Will?”

Another slice and no answer.

“Say it.”

“Yes, yes,” he pleads, his mouth open begging for more.

I give him more until the apple is gone. With the last slice I follow it back into his mouth, sliding our tongues together, crushing the fruit between us and savouring the flavour. Will groans. When our mouths break, he looks away back towards the window.

“I hate you,” he whispers. “I hate you.”

“I know, petal,” I purr, lifting his face with my finger under his chin. “I know yer hate me. Yer hate me because your body wants what I have to offer.”

“Bastard,” he snarls back.

Even with his cruel words, his admission of hatred, when I kiss him, he’s welcoming. His hot tongue entwines with mine. His lips press wantonly against mine. His teeth nip at my lips. His tongue searches inside my mouth. His kisses are like fire. Hot. Burning with desire. I thread my fingers through his long hair, quickly pulling it out from the tidy bow. I take handfuls of his hair, dragging his head back and holding it still as I ravage hiuth.uth. He pants. Moans. Begs in hot breaths when we part for air. I might not own his heart. I might not control his mind. But his body is mine. It burns for me. Aches for me. He grinds his hips against my legs, pressing his erect but bound prick against me. The mind and heart will soon follow the body; I’ll make sure of that.

Finally, with bruised lips we break the kiss. He drops back, resting that fine ass against his ankles; his face still tilted towards me. Full red mouth making him look like a debauched angel. I sit back in my chair and grin. Will’s curved eyebrow arches and he sighs. He can’t admit that I’m right.

“I’ve got to go now, pretty.”

“What!” That grabs Will’s attention. “But, I’ve...I need...” He indicates to his swollen cock. It looks like it hurts, red with a purple head. Aching. Raw. I smile.

“That’s the next lesson, Pretty.”

I stand up, turning away from his confused face. I have plans for lunchtime, though maybe I’ll be back soon to play with my distressed pet.

Will’s POV:

BASTARD! Jack Sparrow is a complete and utter BASTARD!! I despise him. Hate him. Loathe him. How could he leave me like this...oh damn! Now I’m wishing him back. I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t desire his kisses. His mouth on mine. I should be fighting!

I sink to my knees beside Jack’s desk, bow my head and weep. It’s too much. I can’t take Jack’s attention anymore. He’s doing things to my body I’ve never experienced before, and the awful fact is - I like it. No one’s ever touched me like Jack does. No one has ever made me feel like Jack does. And certainly no one has ever brought me to such mind shattering orgasms as Jack does.

Bastard.

I weep tears for myself, and for Elizabeth. I don’t think she could ever treat me, touch me, and arouse me as Captain Jack Sparrow does. Even now, without him in the room - I want more. My body cries out for his hands, his mouth on mine. I sob because I want him to come back and touch me some more. I cry because I don’t understand why I want him. Why?! Why this man that I hate, that holds me prisoner here, that keeps me naked and hard? Why do I want him to walk back through that door and to do whatever he wishes to do to me? He beat me. Whipped me. Belted me. Yet, with all that abuse, I desperately want his hands back on my body.

I no longer cry for Elizabeth, just for me and my confusion - my needs - my hopes. Just for the fact that when Jack comes back I’ll do as he says. I cry until there are no more tears left.

~*~*~*~

A bell rings high up on deck, a man’s voice shouts out - “Grub!”. I guess that is the call to lunch. I can’t help but lick my lips and stare at the cabin door. Will Jack come back? Do I want him to come back? My body is hard and aching, my cock throbbing and little Will certainly wants him to come back.

It’s not long before it gets its wish. Jack opens the outer door, a tray in his hand and he sits at the table once again. I can smell hot bread and ham and licking my lips I stare at Jack.

“Hungry, pet?” Jack asks, lifting a piece of bread and ham to his lips.

“Yes, J-Captain,” I reply. The food smells so good and fresh, and my body welcomes back Jack even if my mind tries to deny its need.

“Come, kneel.” Jack shifts around on his chair so that I can kneel between his legs. I slowly get up, trying to ignore the ache in my groin. Jack watches me, licking his lips clean and wide eyed as I drop down before him. I don’t look up, but gaze at the plate of hot food on the table. He’s not pleased with that, and one of his long fingers presses below my chin, lifting my face up.

“Open,” Jack directs, and I open my mouth. I’m half expecting a kiss, half dreading it too, but he doesn’t kiss me, just tears of a corner of bread and ham, and then puts it on my tongue. I can’t help but smile as the hot tastes burn onto my tongue. The bread is wonderful and the ham rich. I eat it slowly, my eyes gazing into Jack’s, and when done, I open my mouth again. Jack feeds himself another piece, then puts one onto my tongue. This time his fingers follow the outline of my lips as I close them and chew the bread. Again he eats a helping and then feeds me. This continues, until I’m moaning as he touches my mouth or my lips. I never knew eating could be so...so erotic.

Then the food is gone and too my shame I’m disappointed that there isn’t more. I don’t want Jack to stop.

“Thirsty?” Jack asks.

I nod expecting to be given a cup of water, but like always Jack surprises me. Instead of giving me a glass of water, he pours some of the sparkling liquid into his hand. It drips down between his fingers; wet splashes against my skin as he offerings me in his hands. I gape as the first handful drips onto my body and the floor. Each drop of cool water making me shiver. Jack only smiles, and pours out another handful. This time thirst takes over and I lean forward to lap the water from his hand. He groans with the first touch of my tongue, his hand trembling as I lap away the water and lick it clean. He offers me more, and I repeat the action. Lapping and licking clean. Again more water, but this time it’s enough so when I finish I nip the end of his index finger. Jack almost yelps as my teeth nip his skin. His dark wide eyes stare into mine and it takes a moment for him to calm his breathing.

“Get up. Sit on the table.”

“W-what?” I ask startled at the rough words. His voice is forceful, desperate even. It almost scares...no, not scares me, it makes me realise he’s there and so are his desires. That he does want me. I canecidecide what I think about that. No one’s ever wanted me as a sexual creature before, yet, every second I spend with Jack I learn more and more about the desires in myself and how I can make others see me. I’ve never felt that with Elizabeth. That I had sexuality. That I could be physically arousing. That someone could look at me, with that rough edge like Jack is doing and it makes me want to obey. I haven’t a clue what comes next. I don’t know if he’ll hurt me or not, but I do rise to my feet and stop. My hands are bound behind my back making it hard to get on the table.

“Captain, my hands,” I tell him. Jack’s breathing grows hoarse and when his fingers fiddle with the knots of the rope I can tell he’s trembling. I’m doing that to him. It’s a strange feeling to have power over another man’s desire. He fiddles with the knot, finally pulling the rope loose and ripping it off. I move back to the table, and facing him, lift myself up to sit on the edge. Jack smirks.

“Lie back,” he commands, rising to his feet to stand before me.

I can’t help the shiver of expectation and a little desire as I lie myself back. The hard wood of the table pressing against my back and buttocks.

“Bring yer knees up.”

I moan when he says that. For a moment I hesitate, but then Jack’s hands are guiding my thighs up, so I obey, lifting my knees, and then Jack pushes them apart, making my feet rest on the edge of the table. I look down the length of my body, past my bound cock and my breath catches in my throat. I’m exposed. My legs spread like a woman’s, Jack between them, looking down at my throbbing cock. My head falls back with a thump and I moan. I can’t look because I know that if my penis wasn’t bound I would be coming all over Jack’s chest at the sight.

“Pretty,” Jack purrs, his hands stroking the sides of my thighs. The flesh quivers under his skin. Goosebumps rise where his hands roam over and up my legs. I spread my arms over the table and clamp my hands around the edges. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Jack gazing at my erect cock, his head coming down, and...

“ARGHH!” I scream as a hot, wet mouth takes my cock inside. I scream again as a rough tongue laps at my cock-head, pushing back the foreskin, riming the glans. I writhe on the table before him. My hips rising up to bury myself deeper into his hot, tight place. My hands tighten and my head rolls, lifts and drops back. I can hear the thud my head makes on the wood, it should hurt but his his moment, I can feel nothing but the heat and tightness around my cock.

Jack takes the end of my penis into his mouth and starts to slowly suck. More gurgled sounds rise from my throat and my hips lift off the table. Jack’s strong hands immediately press against my hips and he holds me down. I snarl in anger at being held back, and I begin to writhe under his hands trying to push up into the wet circle of his mouth. He doesn’t stop holding me down, he pushes against me harder, holding me still and then he blows my brain by taking the whole length of my cock into his mouth. I howl in delight. Delight that turns to burning pain, as I want to come. I want to come down his throat. I want him to taste me.

“Please! Plea-oh!-se!” I pant as my whole body tightens ready to orgasm. “Captain! Please!! Oohh! PLEASE!”

I arch off the table, my body snapping and bowing, writhing and pleading. Oh please, I need to come. I feel my nails dig into the wood, my feet lifting my body off the table, anything to get deeper into Jack’s mouth. Anything to let me orgasm. I scream as I feel his fingers touching the ties on my cock. He unties part of it, but still I can’t come. I’m beyond words, just pants and cries. Then his hand moves lower, a long finger starts to rub against my asshole. I tense. The tension makes the need even stronger. I can almost hear my back crack as I arch off the table again, forcine fie finger to press inside of my body. The leather binding is suddenly gone and the finger presses deeper and against some burning spot. I howl and come down Jack’s throat. Once again, the orgasm pounds through my body, making me scream and thrash and then...blackness.

TBC