Will's Slavery or Slavery on the Seven Seas

Title: Will's Slavery or Slavery On the Seven Seas (1/6)
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Author: Shara Nesu
Pairing: J/W (of course!)
Rating: NC17 Warning: M/M Graphic sex - S/M BDSM - Non-Con/Questionable consent- and everything that goes with them too.
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own them *sob* I still haven't got that little Johnny Depp of my own yet!
FB: Shara-nesu@supanet.com/http://www.livejournal.com/users/sharanesu/ Please! OH PLEASE!
Archived: Shara's place: http://www.shara-nesu.supanet.com/index.html
Distribution: Want, Have, Take. Please!
Summary: (Set after the film) Commodore Norrington doesn't being made a fool of. He's had his marriage proposal turned down and Captain Sparrow escaped right under his nose. So what does he do? Well, he kidnaps William Turner and sells him into Slavery, just to get the girl. Will's fate certainly takes a interesting turn when he's sold to one Captain Jack Sparrow, and the young lad finds himself a victim of the Captain’s wily ways.
Thanks to Helen & KLD for all of their assistance! And to Rose who begged for a Slavery fic and gave me great ideas. Also to Peja who wanted Will in Chains *grin*.

(Author's Notes at end of story)

Will’s POV:

This isn’t how I envisaged my life to be. I rescued the Girl, got the father’s permission to marry her, planned a wedding, and then I found myself here. Here, sitting - chained - to the lower decks of a slaver’s vessel.

I never did manage to marry Elizabeth. We had returned to Port Royal after the death of Barbossa and the strange affair of freeing Jack, and went back to our normal lives. Elizabeth announced our engagement at a formal dinner party, which made me sick - I never knew I could be so nervous! Give me pirates, swords and death any day - but not a formal dinner party! Everything seemed to be going well. Governor Swann wanted us to marry in January of following year. He said 6 months was the shortest possible time for a courtship. Elizabeth was well into planning it, and I set about becoming a partner with Mr Brown. He could drink as much as he wanted, get paid, but I’d get the credit for my work, which seemed only fair really. To my surprise he agreed, and my name was painted above the doors - after his. Sometimes, I’d wonder where Jack was but never really dwelled on it.

Then one night my whole life changed. I was sleeping in my small apartment above the blacksmith’s, when I was awakened by shouts of fire. Thick black smoke was bellowing up from under my door, and I opened it to find the landing as black as pitch with smoke. I couldn’t see a damn thing, but I ran towards the shouting, crying out for Master Brown, telling him to flee. Then I ran straight into the chest of a red-jacketed man. The next thing I knew was pain as something connected with the back of my head and everything went black.

I awoke an undeterminable time later lying on a wooden floor. I could smell the scent of fish and salt, and quickly deduced I was aboard some type of boat. That totally confused me. Why rescue me from a fire to bring me aboard a ship? I didn’t ponder that for long, I was just about to get to my feet when the door opened and I spotted black shoes, clean stockings, and then a navy commodore’s uniform - Norrington.

“Welcome aboard, Mr Turner,” he said pleasantly enough, but something in his tone made me feel uneasy.

“Why am I here? Where’s Mr Brown? Does...”

“Please, please Mr Turner, so many questions all with one breath.” Norrington moved across the cabin to a small desk and opened it. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses, pouring the dark golden liquid into them both. “Here drink up, I’m sure you’re thirsty from the fire.” He had this small smirk on his lips that made me guess there was more to that fire than just an accident. “Don’t worry yourself about Mr Brown, a couple of day’s rest and he’ll be right as rain and back to drinking again.” He offered me the glass, but I hesitated. “Please do drink up, I’m sure you’ll feel better after it.” I took the glass and swigged the whiskey back, coughing a little as it burned my throat. I’m not a big drinker; sword making needs a firm hand.

“Yes, it will dull the pain,” Norrington added when I had finished.

“W-what?” My head snapped round with the sound of the door opening to reveal four rough looking men. They were unshaven, dirty and vicious looking almost like pirates...but surely not. Norrington would kill a pirate first and then ask questions. He despises the ground they walk on.

“This the boy, then?” the tallest and gruffest one asked.

“Yes, that will be him. Everything ready?”

The man smirked and stood aside. My eyes widened, and my breath caught in my throat. A large black man stood with a long looking poker in his hand, red hot - just from the fire - with a strange symbol attached to the end. A Brand.

I didn’t even have time to scream or fight. The men were upon me in a second, large hands ripping away my clothing, shoving me to the deck, and then came the burning hot pain in my thigh. I screamed until my voice broke, the smell of my own burnt flesh in my nostrils, and I brought up the whiskey, spilling it across the deck. Hands pulled me up again, and through the pain, I found my hands were bound, chains fitted to my ankles and lastly something heavy around my neck...a collar.

“So pretty,” the tall man remarked, staring down at me. I was on my knees, bound, and whimpering in agony.

“Remember our deal,” Norrington told the tall man, “Take him far from here, sell him to someone who will never grace Port Royal, understand?”

“Aye, I get ya. He’ll make a fair price on the slave block with such pretty skin that’s for sure.”

“I don’t care what you do with him, just as long as he never returns here. Now get out!”

“W-what? No! Stop!” I gasped, trying to fight off all of the slavers at the same time. “What did I ever do to you?!” I screamed finally, as I was half-dragged, half-carried out the door.

“Wait!” Norrington shouted, and two men held me up under my arms facing him. “I’ll answer that question, Master Turner. What have you done to me? How about we start off with that idiot pirate - you made me look a fool in front of my men. A fool before the Governor. Then there’s Elizabeth - she was promised to me!” Norrington thumbed his chest, eyes blazing as he stared at me. “But above all, Turner,” Norrington advanced towards me, his face just inches from mine, “above all, I don’t like to lose.” He hissed the last part, spittle covering my face.

We stared at each other for a long moment, and then one slaver flung me over his shoulder and I was carried away from the man who betrayed me.

~*~*~*~

So that’s how I ended up here. In a slaver’s vessel being carried to some unknown destination. I’m naked, cold, and unable to move due to my chains being attached to the deck. If this boat ever sinks I’ll... well, all of us poor souls - will be going down to Davy Jones’ Locker together. We are all damned.

Looking back at how Norrington was treated after Elizabeth spurred him; I should have really expected something. He was always a strong man, never showing weakness, and to be made to look a fool before all his men and superiors, it was not unexpected that he should lash out at someone. Shame that someone had to me. I’ll never regret what I did though. I love Elizabeth, and I had to save Jack. I couldn’t let him be hanged like some common pirate. Yes, he’s a pirate...but he’s different somehow. Bloody insane maybe. I don’t know but I couldn’t let him die. I think I would have died for him. Silly thoughts, I get them sometimes.

My thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of the tall slaver. Damned if I know any of their names. They don’t talk to us; we’re addressed as slave or it and never treated as a real person. Guess that’s why we don’t even get to know our captors. I’ve been watching them carefully, just waiting for the chance to escape. There’s no way I can do it here on ship, but maybe when we dock or at the market. Somehow. I can’t...won’t be sold as a slave. I’m a free man, and I’ll be damned if...

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

I look up startled, suddenly rsingsing that I was being talked about. The tall slaver and two new men stand looking down at my dirty naked form, chains on my wrist and ankles, collar at my neck.

“Very,” one of the unknown men answers. He’s got a huge scar running down the left side of his face, disfiguring his mouth and eye.

“Fetch a small bundle...you think it might be?” The tall man suddenly seems to be excited about something. Not sure what it might be but... Abruptly, the man leans down and he’s right in my face. It’s a surprise because it’s like I suddenly exist to him. “You a virgin, slave?” he growls, one rough hand pulling at my hair.

I don’t answer; I just spit in the slaver’s face. It’s also hard talking with your head pulled back by the hair, and feeling like your neck’s going to break at any second. I really should have answered. Seconds later, I’m flipped onto my front, chains pulling at my arms and ankles, and I scream as a large finger is shoved inside my ass.

“Feels tight,” the tall slaver comments, “think he’ll pass as a virgin? He’s a little old, but honest looking.”

The scarred man grins, as the tall slaver steps back, finally releasing me. My face is burning with embarrassment and indignation. “He’ll pass. Tell the boys not to touch him, he’ll bring us a good price pure.” He bends down, and lifts my head up by the hair again. “Very pretty slave,” he laughs, “I’m sure in a few months after you’re sold, you’ll curse those good looks.” He laughs again, forcing his lips on mine for a harsh one-way kiss. I struggle even more, finally managing to fall backwards onto my back, hitting my head on the hard wooden floor. I yelp, making the men laugh at my antics. They laugh even more as I spit the taste of the scarred man from my lips, tasting the copper of blood on my lips. Bastard.

I’m left alone for the rest of the voyage. I don’t really mind, at least now I don’t have to fear any of the Slavers or crew. Some of them have looked me over, even tried to touch, but they are sent away by the tall man who watches me like a hawk. I pray to God that he doesn’t keep me. I shudder at the thought. It just doesn’t feel real to me. I can’t really be here, it’s just a bad dream, and then I pinch myself and I’m still here - chained and naked. I doubt the actual thought of being sold won’t be real until it happens, I just can’t imagine it. I’m scared of what I think will happen. I push the thoughts aside, and wait.

Jack’s POV:

Georgetown in the Cayman Islands is a bloody vile town, and filled with new arrivals from England trying to forge a new life in this Godforsaken land. Great place however, to check out the latest ships, defences, and to work out how I’m going to rob the next lot of immigrants. I chuckle to myself as I dock the Black Pearl. We’re disguised as a merchant vessel; crates filled with sand on the deck, and the Jolly Roger hidden below decks. This town is not for pirates, much like that blasted Port Royal; hang them on sight, they do.

“Don’t see why we’re ‘ere.” I turn to Mr Gibbs finally realising he’s been gibbering on for a while now. I just drown him out with me own thoughts. Mr Gibbs - great sailor but so bloody dour.

“Told ya, I‘m Captain and I decide where we go. Also we need to check out the prey. We need to see what those idiot merchants are doing to protect themselves.”

Mr Gibbs sighs, “Aye, Capt’n.”

“Arrange the men in pairs; get them around the latest ships. I want armaments, size, weight, and crew compliment, Savvy?”

“Aye, Captain Sparrow.”

Mr Gibbs stomps off, mumbling under his breath, nothing new there. I’ll bet it’s bad luck to visit other ships or something along those lines. Me, I’m going to do a little shopping - need a new hat...well, a new borrowed one.

Georgetown’s market is the biggest for miles around, and many island inhabitants come here to buy and sell one of the main commodities of the New World - slaves. Slavery isn’t unknown to me; I’ve sold out a couple of my mutinous crew along the years, shame I didn’t do that to Bardossa. The bastard. Pirates have used slavery to get rid of the despised competition...or buy food when times are bad.

Today, the market has a slaver who’s just arrived with his newly acquired wears. Pretty placid looking lot...apart from one. A boy with dark hair, thin body, creamy skin with a newly healing brand mark on his right hip. Gorgeously naked. No eunuch him. Wouldn’t mind getting a taste of that meself, make a good cabin boy when there’s no whore around. I watch as the slaver drags the chained boy onto the block, forcing his head up, naked and facing the crown.

“Fine young’un here,” the tall slaver shouts to the crowd, suddenly making a sneer, “virginal too.”

I lick my lips, yep; fine young cabin boy that. Hmmm, never had them virginal before. Done lots of girls, but not boys. There are jeers among the crowd as I near the block, trying to get a good luck at that creamy flesh. Pale, unmarked, soft. I edge nearer, looking over the boy’s features, taking in the long legs, flaccid penis, shapely hips, hollow stomach, strong rib cage, wide shoulders, long neck, little beard on the face - bum fluff really - and then the hazel eyes...oh shit.

“Will,” I mumble to myself. That be Will Turner standing naked, branded and collared on that slave block. Damn, the boy has good lines. Shit! He’s a friend, shouldn’t be looking at that. Is kinda nice, all that soft creamy skin...can’t get over that. Not in these waters, men are usually sun darkened like me. I guess the blacksmith spends too much time indoors. He looks like a bloody maid. Gonna fetch a fine price.

“What will we start the bidding at then - 10 Guineas for this fine boy?” The tall slaver starts the bidding.

“Half-crown!” A large sailor shouts out, making the crowd laugh.

And so it starts, and soon the boy’s price is up to 21 Guineas and a gold watch, which seems to be the last price. The tall slaver starts asking for more, begging the crowd, selling his wares.

“30 Guineas!” I shout. Stupid mouth going off without my head knowing. But I ain’t taking it back.

There’s silence as the slaver turns to me, a wide (eww filthy teeth) grin filling his ugly face. “30 Guineas it is! Anyone for 31! Fine boy, strong, (another sneer) virginal!” The crowd is silent. “Sold!”

Looks like I’ve just brought Will Turner for 30 Guineas. I make my way through the crowd to the block, and finally those hazel eyes turn to face me. He’s shocked at my presence, but a small smile graces his mouth. Thinks I’ve saved him, does he? I chuckle to myself, dragging out me hidden purse, nice and warm from being stowed away in my breeches. I pay the slaver, my eyes on the boy, his on me. A look of relief in those hazel orbs. Nice eyes - flash golden with anger when he’s fighting. I want to see that again.

Will’s POV:

Jack! Jack Sparrow is here. I can’t believe my good fortune. He has bought me too. As our eyes meet across the wooden stage, I can’t help but smile slightly. I know I’m safe now, I don’t have to fear for my life or try to escape. Jack gives a little chuckle as he pays for me, I suppose he finds my predicament a little amusing. I will pay him back, as soon as he returns me to Port Royal. I don’t have a lot of money, but for saving my life I’d pay him the whole lot.

The tall slaver turns from Jack and gives me a sly grin. I return it, unnerving him slightly. Ha, I’ll be no slave now. I’m a free man. The slaver grabs my wrist irons and drags me forwards towards Jack. He makes some derogatory comment about my virginity...again, but I don’t listen to their words. I’m free. Safe. Going home to Elizabeth.

The slaver passes a chain to Jack and he turns to me. “Kneel,” he commands. There is no recognition in his eyes, and his face is fixed in an angry glare at me. He’s a good actor. I drop to my knees without complaint, wanting to get away from this crowd and desiring clothing, to let Jack link the chain onto a ring on the collar around my neck. His lips twitch into a slight half-smile and he tugs at the chain.

“Come boy,” Jack growls and I get to my feet.

Jack bids the slaver farewell, taking a sheet of paper from him. I guess that’s my bill of sale. He turns and quickly marches away from the slave block and out of the crowd. I follow as fast as I can, considering I’m still chained wrist to wrist and foot to foot. When we reach a darkened alley, not far from the docks, I finally stop, forcing Jack to bnkednked back by my chain.

“Oh gods Jack, you wouldn’t believe how I grateful I am to see you. I swear as soon as I get back to Port Royal I’ll pay you back every Guinea and then some.” My voice is light, and I start fiddling with my chains. “Err, Jack, the chains.” I hold out my manacled wrist, expecting him to unlock them.

Jack doesn’t say anything for a long time, just looks down at my naked form and the chained wrist offered before him. Then he smiles. I grin back, expecting to be set free any moment. Any moment now. Yes, any moment.

“Jack?” I plead. Why doesn’t he free me?

“You stopped boy,” Jack snarls, “without my permission.”

“What? Jack, what are you play--”

I don’t finish the sentence. Suddenly, my face flares with pain, and my left eye feels as though it’s going to explode. The backhand Jack delivers sends me reeling and I stumble backwards into wall, the chains at my feet tangle and I crash to the ground.

“It’s Captain to you, slave.” Jack yanks on my collar and I am sent flying into the dirt. My chin hits the ground with a smack, forcing my teeth to snap together and blood fills my mouth as I almost bite though my caught lip. I gag and spit out the blood, looking up uncertainly at Jack. Could he fear that someone is watching us? That he has to act the master? I bite my tongue from asking any more questions, and slowly get up to my knees, head bowed and eyes down. A form of submission.

“Get to yer feet and follow me, slave,” Jack snarls, yanking again on the leash. This time I’m ready and let the momentum bring me to my feet and I stubble after him. I’m confused, and a little scared, but I trust Jack...don’t I?

I’m covered in dirt, blood on my face, and chained as I board the Black Pearl. There’s hardly anyone around, only a couple of lookouts that I don’t recognise. They nod to Jack, then return to their duty. Jack drags me onward, across the deck, and then through two doors leading to the Captain’s quarters, and beyond that a private bedroom. The door hangs open, and I can see the linen sheeted bunk, messy and used. A shiver passes through me. If I had been sold to anyone else, that bed would be where my new master or mistress would have ravaged me. I know that I was sold more on the basis that I was good for bedding, more than working, but now I don’t have to fear that.

“Jack, thank you for saving me. I guess you can free me now, we’re alone.” I hold out my hands again, but Jack doesn’t reply. He lets go of my leash, and walks over to a cabinet on the sidewall. He grabs a bottle of rum, and then crosses back to me. He drags out a large winged back chair with padded arms, and drops himself in it. He takes a long swig of rum, letting his eyes wonder across my naked form. I shudder. “Jack?”

“Kneel boy; don’t ya know it’s disrespectful for a slave to stand taller than his master?”

“Jack, you’re not my master. Now let me go and I’ll pay you back your money as soon as I get back to Port Royal. I--” I gasp as another sharp yank on my chain makes me choke and stumble. I drop to my knees, trying to stop myself from falling down face first again. “Jac--” Another backhand, making me spit blood. I quickly shut up.

“It’s Captain, Will. You will address me as *Captain*.”

“Captain.” I whisper, making sure he knows I’ve heard.

“Good.” Jack leans back in his chair again, taking another swig of rum, and stariown own at me. I try and shift, my hands going to my lap and covering my nakedness. His eyes are making me uncomfortable, feeling more naked that I have since I was first branded.

“Now understand this, Will. I have brought you. Paid good gold for yer, and by this little piece of paper,” he waves the bill of sale in the air, “yer mine. Yer a slave, and I own ya, Savvy?”

I swallow hard. I don’t understand what’s happening. He knows me. I fought at his side. I saved him from being hanged. “Y-yes, Captain,” I reply slowly. Is this a game? Making me thank him with more gold for saving me? Making me beg to be set free? I don’t understand.

“Did you marry the pretty Miss Swann, Will?” Jack asks suddenly, his eyes boring into mine. I hate those eyes at this instant. So dark. Shadowed. Piercing. The black kohl making them shine inky black. He raises an eyebrow, aor tor the first time I notice a tiny scar marring the arched shape.

“Not yet...no, Jac-Captain,” I stutter. What is he playing at?

“True what they said then?” Jack laughs, gulping back more rum.

“I’ve had many girls!” I shout back.

Jack laughs even more, knowing I lie. I might be orphaned, but I was raised a gentleman. I was in love with Elizabeth ever since I was dragged from the ocean, and saw her face for the first time. She was the only woman I’ve ever desired. Jack doesn’t believe my words and tugs again on the chain. “Don’t lie to me, Will.” His voice is soft, but something in his tone makes me shiver.

“I-I won’t, Captain.” I have to break eye contact, my eyes falling to the floor. I don’t know how to deal with this situation. I don’t understand what Jack is doing. I’ll beg if he wants. Beg to be returned home. “Please, Captain, please let me go.” I shudder at the way my voice sounds so sickly submissive.

Jack chuckles. “Enough with the begging, Will. Sure as hell doesn’t suit ya.” He looks over me again, making my cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Now tell me, Will. How did yer end up on that slaver’s block?”

I answer his question. I tell him about the fire, Norrington, the branding, even about the scarred man and how he touched me. For a long time after, Jack’s very silent, taking a few gulps of rum now and then, eyes returning to my form, looking me over and over, and then looking away. It’s like he’s planning, considering...

“Now Will, I’m going to get the cook heating some hot water for a bath. You are to clean yourself, and then wait for me here, Savvy?”

That’s it!! No `sorry this happened to you, I’m letting you free!’ No long laugh at my downfall `I’m letting you free.’ No bloody ‘I’M LETTING YOU FREE!’ My mouth falls open, and I stare up at him. His eyes darken with the fading light until I can’t see the whites any longer. Only the hard face, the sharp lines of his cheekbones, the strange twin-plaited beard. I watch as dirty nailed fingers reach up to his moustache twisting up the ends, and he gives me a wicked grin. Has something happened to him after he escaped Port Royal? Did I offend him? Is he cursed like Barbossa?

“Will, you will answer when I ask.”

“Yes, I understand. I take a bath and wait for you here.”

Jack gets to his feet, and then only after I drop my eyes from his, does he unlock the manacles at my wrists. I wait a moment, expecting the collar and leg irons to be removed, but Jack steps back, picks up his bottle of rum and quickly exits the room.

TBC