“What fortuitous circumstance be this?” laughed Jones. “Give your son twenty lashes then, Mister Turner. And if you argue I will choose instead the Bosun’s pleasure.”
With a final look at the creature who had once been his father, Will turned to face the rigging. His shirt was ripped in two and he hung tight to the ropes, bracing himself for the onslaught from the cat.
The beating was more brutal then anything he had ever endured in his twenty years. The knots bit deep and flayed the skin from his body in bloody strips. Thankfully, around the dozen mark, he lost consciousness only coming to from the sudden impact as he hit the floor of the hold.
“It’s beyond me how you could do this to your own son, Bootstrap” said a familiar voice.
“A strange sentiment, seeing as you’re the one who sent him over here to settle your debt.”
“I came back for him, didn’t I?”
“And I’m sure you never considered bartering with Jones using his soul as payment for yours. Do you not think I know how things work on the Dutchman after all these years?”
Jack Sparrow was silent.
“Now take the wretched key you’ve pilfered from Jones and get my son away from here to dry land where he’ll be safe.”
The agony as Will was heaved up onto Jack’s shoulders was extreme. He was lowered into the long boat and lay face down, half in and out of a pool of brackish sea water. Will could almost make out the distinctive figure of Jack Sparrow, but everything now seemed a million miles away. The sea water splashed into the open wounds on his back and he screamed out in pain. Pride was a thing of the past.
“Hush now, William. I’ll see you right. Long as you don’t go down to the locker before we’re back at the Pearl.”
Will dreamt of beatings and tears and of harsh spoken words. He dreamt of anger and hurt and pain that made him lose the contents of his stomach. He dreamt of cool dampness on the back of his neck and soothing strokes from gentle fingers. He dreamt of sweet-scented safety.
The next time he opened his eyes, Will found himself lying on his stomach on clean linen sheets. He attempted to move but was restrained by a leathery hand.
“None of that, lad. You lay still a while longer and let these wounds heal up proper.”
Will turned his face away. The last person he wanted to see was Sparrow. “I would never have abandoned you or my father the way you both did me,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Came after you,” said Jack gruffly. “Isn’t that worth a count or two in my favour?”
Will couldn’t answer. He had once believed Jack to be an honourable man beneath all the piratical ways, but in truth he was as unpredictable as the weather.
“I’m most likely no better a bloke than Barbossa or Jones,” said Jack thoughtfully as if he was considering the matter. “Lost my heart and my soul years ago. Swapped ’em for some pretty booty no doubt.”
The soothing hands from Will’s dreams were back, accompanied by a pungent smell of herbal balm. He let himself float, half-awake half-asleep, drifting on a cloud of painful pleasure.
“Does it hurt?”
“A little,” answered Wil. There was no need for the silent treatment with regards to his injuries. However as far as anything else went Jack Sparrow could, and most certainly would, go to hell.
“Up on your knees and then sit back on your haunches.”
Will did as he was told as if he were a feverish child being attended to by his mother. Sitting up made him woozy and Jack’s voice faded away into the distance.
“It’s the infection making you feel this way, William. Drink this for me, there’s a lad.”
Supported by strong arms, Will drank deeply from the glass that was put to his lips. The liquid was sweet and syrupy and he gulped it down as if it was mother’s milk.
“Enough now or you’ll be six feet under before you know it,” said Jack, exchanging the glass for a tankard of water to quench Will’s thirst. “Now lie back down and we’ll tend to your wounds.”
Will felt inexplicably happy. He forgot all about hurting and gave in to the comfort as Jack’s hands worked wonders on his back, massaging him into a state of euphoric numbness. His mouth opened and words fell out as if he had no control over them.
“My father wanted to be a pirate. He ran away from us and left us for a life on the high seas. Did he love the sea, Jack, or did he love you? Is that why he left my mother?” Will smiled dreamily.
“Quiet now, William. Too much Chinese opium is your problem. And it will be my downfall if you continue to ask me such things.”
“Did he take you below decks or did you take him? Was it mutual pleasuring?”
Will closed his eyes, allowing the acts he was describing to come to life in his mind. His cock hardened as he imagined faceless couplings below deck, and he became overpoweringly aware of his nudity. He’d never been naked in the presence of any man or woman since he was a small child and it was a most disconcerting and arousing sensation, especially with Jack’s fingers dancing, heating him up to burning point as he applied the exotic balm to Will’s skin. Naked bodies writhed behind his eyelids and he thrust his hardness against the rough cotton sheets.
“Be still now,” growled Jack, “or there’s no saying what you’ll have me do.”
“Have me, Jack,” gasped Will as he ground his erection against the hard mattress.
“This is nothing but the opium talking, boy. I’ll play no part in it.”
Will however was aware enough to notice that the pirate’s hands still stroked over his skin, moving lower down now in the direction of his naked backside.
“I need some assistance, Jack. Feel how desperate I am for relief,” moaned Will, up on all fours again as he thrust back and forward, his cock bouncing and slapping against his stomach.
“William, I am here to make amends not make love to you. Now let that be an end to this matter.”
Jack’s breath came in harsh greedy pants and this made Will even more desirous of the pirate. Sitting back up slowly, trying to quell the urge to faint, he took Jack’s right hand and placed it around the shaft of his cock. “See to me, the way you saw to my father,” he said.
“But I never did have Bootstrap,” said Jack. “Wasn’t a one for the menfolk, your dad. Preferred ripe and luscious strumpets, he did. I wanted him though. Dreamt about him with his big cock ploughing into me.”
Slowly Jack began to work his greased up fingers up and down Will’s length.
“Tell me more,” sighed Will, leaning back against Jack’s chest, listening to the steady throb-throbbing of his heart beat.
“Had your Commodore Norrington,” murmured Jack. “Took me into his fancy officer’s quarters for questioning. He liked the way I talked so much he was down on his knees in no time at all with his fancy lips wrapped around my prick, sucking me like I was a right treat.”
“Not so,” cried Will laughing at the incredulity of the idea.
“Indeed no. I have it wrong. First he fucked my arse then he drank my jisum,” said Jack. “And that is God’s honest truth, son.”
Will pumped his hips thrusting his erection into Jack’s tight fist. “Did you ever have Norrington again?” he asked, his words coming out dry and husky.
“Only every time we met. Why d’you think he hates me so much?” said Jack, unfastening his britches and pushing Will down onto his knees. “You’re not the only one needs relief now, lad. I blame you for all this mucky talk.”
Will howled as his arsehole was breeched.
“Quiet down, it’s only a couple of fingers so far.”
“Tell me more of your dirty exploits,” said Will, trying to get used to the sensation of being filled from behind while Jack’s other hand worked his softened cock back to erection.
“Norrington and I most definitely had the pleasure of each other’s company,” laughed Jack. “Many, many times over. In fact he even had me bent over the desk in Governor Swann’s house while you were making pleasantries in the drawing room.”
Will could recall a time when Norrington had been suddenly called away from one of the Governor’s receptions. Was this indeed possible instead of just a wild fantasy?
“You must be ready by now, lad,” said Jack. “I’m aching for a feel of your pretty white arse.”
Without waiting for a response he thrust his hard shaft into Will’s bottom with a groan of unadulterated lust. The opium had done its work and Will felt nothing more than a vast feeling of fullness. It was an uncomfortable sensation at first, but his body soon adjusted to it, and with Jack’s hand busily working at his cock, Will thought of James Norrington with his mouth full of hard prick and rose to the occasion. They fucked with honest abandon, then, when it became too uncomfortable on all fours, Will pushed Jack down onto his back and rode him like a stallion, rising to the trot then upping the speed to a canter and then a full gallop.
“You’re a wicked one, William Turner. Having your way with me like this,” gasped Jack. “Pull yourself off. Want to see your spunk dripping over me.”
The dirty words worked better than all the crudely drawn pictures Will had ever seen. His hand flew over his erection faster than a ship in full sail and he welcomed the feel of that prick up his arse making him complete. Sliding up and down on Jack’s shaft he fucked him with ferocity, snarling as he neared the abyss.
“Ready for me, Jack Sparrow?”
With a cry of “William,” Jack arched up forcing his cock even further into Will’s stretched arse. The warm bath of fluid coating his insides was trigger indeed for William’s own release. With a plaintive cry he pulled hard and let fly, his come pouring out of his slit in wave after wave of violent eruptions.
Finally when his orgasm was done, he stilled his hand and collapsed limply onto Jack’s chest.
“We have behaved with impropriety,” he said making no effort to move from his position atop the pirate, hoping indeed that he would get the chance to behave with impropriety many more times.
“It was without doubt the Chinese medicine,” said Jack with a grin.
“I’ve never been the same since I went to Singapore.”
DONE