Taken Under The Black Flag Pt 01

I am rewriting my original story Under the Black Flag. I am trying a new writing style and hope the story makes a bit more sense as we go along. Anyway, enjoy!

Part One

Winslow

I am scrambling along the blood slick deck to get to my fallen crew mate. I slide next to him and assess the blood flowing from his sliced arm. My hands are steady as I wrap it the best I can, the battle continuing to rage around us. I squeeze the man's shoulder and we exchange encouraging grins as I hear another man go down a few yards away. I swear under my breath and make my way to him, dodging fighting men and fallen bodies. Too many. Too many of us have fallen. We are not going to win this fight. The thought hits me, making me stumble as I get to him. He stares into my eyes as he clings to my sweat soaked shirt. I watch the light fade from him as he slumps to the deck. My teeth grind in rage as I look wildly about the ship for our captains.

The two captains are locked in a duel, swinging at each other with bone crushing strength. Their swords clashing together again and again. My breath catches as I see the other ship's captain make the move to cut my captain down, his body falling to the deck with a dull thud. Their captain turns with savage eyes, willing anyone else to challenge him. He tries to shake his shoulder length black hair off of his neck and face, but it is plastered to him with sweat and blood. He raises his sword above his head as my crew begins dropping their weapons. I am studying the blood turning his thigh dark when I feel his icy gaze on me. I am still kneeling on the deck holding my dead crewmate. I break the stare first and put my hands over my head. I have never been a good fighter. Too skinny and not aggressive enough for the sport. The ship grows silent as the captain does a slow circle, his sword still raised, the waves crashing against the ship the only sound. When he finishes his scan of his crew he lets out a loud whoop and his crew jumps into an answering war cry. They begin celebrating and move throughout our ship looking for whatever goods they can gather.

A huge man with a long braid of bright red hair hauls me to my feet. I glance up at his weathered face and blink as I take in the faded gray bandana wrapped around his head covering his left eye. A gnarled scar runs from his hairline under the bandana and through the corner of his mouth. He shoves me in front of him to be gathered with the remains of my crew. I look at the remaining five of us, all beaten and bloodied. We are herded across to the other ship and I see the black flag proudly snapping in the wind above us. It has a single white hourglass tipped on its side against the black background. So this is the ship of Captain Bayless, a ruthless captain with a reputation that precedes him. Why the fuck did we stand and fight? My whole crew was damned from the beginning. As we are ushered below deck to the brig, the last thing I see is our ship going up in flames.

As the night wears on each member of my small crew is taken from the brig one by one. We wait in silence in the musty dark until I am the only one left. My body is exhausted and I need food, water, and sleep. The huge man with red hair and the bandana finally comes to get me. My joints ache as I follow him back up into the cool night air. I cannot see my crew anywhere, I know this is not a good sign. I try to prepare myself for my certain death as the man leading me pounds his fist on a door. The captain opens the door and nods curtly to the man. As he turns to leave I catch a quick glance at his face. There was something about the look on his face, but I don't have time to read it. I follow the captain into his quarters lifting my chin to hide my fear.

The captain walks behind a large desk and sits, appraising me for a long moment. I am about to open my mouth to say something, anything, when he motions for me to sit. I oblige him and wait tensely on the edge of my seat feeling my pulse pounding.

"What is your name, age, and role with your old crew?" the captain finally speaks. His voice is surprisingly low and soft. I blink, surprised by the tone.

"M..my name is W..Winslow. I am t..twenty-five. And I was... I am.... A surgeon...," I reply, quickly adding, "Sir."

He continues to stare at me. His blue eyes glimmer in the lamp light. He looks as tired as I feel. As the silence stretches on I feel my mouth go dry. I am going to be killed. This is it. I am so focused on my wild train of thoughts that I jump when he sits back and clears his throat once.

"Alright, boy." He says, "I am in need of a surgeon on this ship. Will you serve me and my crew? Or shall I end your life and send you to Davy Jones?"

I am dumbstruck. This is my choice? Serve the ship and heal the men my crew died fighting, or die myself? I lower and shake my head feeling my shaggy hair, crusty with sweat and dried blood fall around me. My fear of dying surfaces and I clench my fists. I fight my exhausted mind to come up with a plan. Maybe I can work out a deal.

"P..perhaps a deal will... will be able to serve b..both of us," I start to say softly. I look up and know I have made a mistake as a slow sinister smile crawls onto his face.

"A deal, my boy?" He chuckles lowly. "I love a good deal. A little win for one party, a little win for the other. What do you suggest?"

The tone in his voice says I just stepped into a perfectly laid trap. I clear my throat nervously. "I.. I will serve y..you and your crew until we get to the next port, then I will help you acquire a g..good surgeon to travel with you."

He sits in silence as he chews on this bit of information. After several long moments slip by he speaks again. "The fee for your freedom when we get to port will be great, even if you find me a new surgeon. This debt will have to be paid. And I know how you can pay me." His lips curve again into that dangerous smirk that makes my stomach twist.

"What is the p..price?" I ask, my voice shaking making me sound small and pathetic.

"You will report to my quarters every night. You will allow me to extract payment from your body, and you will tell no one what I choose to do to you. If you speak of the things I do to you to anyone, I will torture you to death. I have many ways to do this. As you know, I am Captain Bayless." He says in that same soft even tone.

My mind races so fast I begin to feel dizzy. What the fuck does he want to do to me? To my body? Work? Slave labor? I begin to feel sick and shake my head no. He holds up a hand.

"If you do not accept these terms I will torture you to death for any information you may have on my enemies." He states like this is a simple fact and not a threat to kill me if I do not take his deal.

"If I take your... deal," I pause and try to swallow, but my throat is too dry, "I will be f..free at the next p..port?"

He nods once, his eyes never leaving mine. I can't take the contact anymore so I drop my eyes trying to find a way out of this. I have heard stories of the torture he prefers. The gruesome tales have kept me awake more than one night in my life. My mind is too foggy with exhaustion and dehydration to fight anymore. I exhale slowly, "I take your.... D..deal." I whisper.

He slaps the desk and stands so quickly that I jump to my feet, knocking my chair over in the process. He moves in front of me and stretches out his hand. "It's a deal." he says, his voice having an edge that makes my skin crawl.

I slowly put my hand, still stained with my crew's blood, in his and shake on it, feeling my blood go cold. He raises his hands and begins to untie my shirt and it snaps me out of my trance. I slap his hands away and try to take a step back. Before I even know what is happening, he has spun me around, bent me over, and has me pinned to the desk, my arm wrenched behind me. I cry out in pain as his weight bears down on me. Fabric is shoved into my mouth and a rope is tied around my head making an impressively effective gag. I start fighting for all I am worth until he kicks my legs out from under me and sends me crashing to the floor. He is on me again, this time tying my feet together. I am thrashing and pounding my fists into him, but he seems truly unaffected.

He pulls me up and sits me on the desk, catching my fists and wrenching my hands behind my back where he ties them tightly. I am breathing heavily through my nose, my eyes wild as I continue to struggle. He holds my shoulders tightly until I stop moving. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

Captain Bayless

I study the young man in front of me. His shaggy, dirty blond hair is filthy. It falls into his wide and wild deep brown eyes. If looks could kill I would be dead and gone. This little fucker has spirit. He has no idea what deal he just got himself into, but that isn't my problem. I lick my lips as his breathing starts to level out after all of his fighting. I step close to him and begin to untie his shirt once again. I peel it off of him, feeling it sticking to his skin, rolling it down to where his hands are tied behind his back. Sliding my hands along his bare skin, I can feel him shaking and twitching. The hate in his eyes melts to pure fear as he starts to process what is about to happen to him.

I move behind the desk and untie his hands, sliding the shirt off and letting it fall to the floor. Keeping a firm grip on one wrist I grab my rope and move in front of him. His breathing accelerates as I begin methodically wrapping his wrist. I keep a steady pressure on the rope, but make sure it is not too tight. I begin crossing to his free wrist and carefully wrap that one as carefully as the first. The feeling of the rope sliding across his skin and the pattern that begins to form in the dancing lamp light makes my mouth water. I bind him carefully, taking my time. His wrists are tied together in front of him and I tie his elbows so the ropes go behind his back and his arms are fully supported. I step back and study him. He is so skinny. His ribs pop out against his skin with every breath. He has a smattering of light blonde chest hair that runs down his flat stomach and disappears into the waistline of his pants. He is watching me study him intensely.

Finally I flip him over and bend him over the desk. He gasps as I move down his legs and untie them briefly. Soon one leg is tied to a leg of the desk. I leave the other free. I reach up and tug on the ropes binding his elbows. I slip my hand under the ropes and slide it slowly down his spine, feeling every vertebrae. Gripping his pants I give a swift tug and pull them halfway down his thighs, exposing his pale white ass to me. His tanned skin from working on the ship leaves a shocking tan line just above the crack of his ass. I gently touch this line and trace it slowly. He makes a small pained noise and I make my touch more firm and soothing. By the time I get back to the crack of his ass he is shaking like a leaf under me.

I pull the bowl of lard closer to me. The poor fucker didn't even know it was there. I kick his feet apart and wedge my knee into his leg to keep him spread for me. I am prepared for his struggle and wait it out, his panicked noises muffled by the gag. My hand travels up his thigh and across a pale cheek before venturing up to his waiting asshole. I dip my fingers into the lard and begin to smear it into his ass. He squeals for me in terror and thrashes under my weight. I lean into him hard and begin pumping my finger into him. He is so fucking tight. I exhale slowly and find a steady rhythm.

After a while I realize I have been lost in the feel of him. My free hand is sliding along his sinewy body, keeping him pinned down. His tight ass is starting to loosen against my steady prodding. When he is loose enough I slide a bit further in and startle a strangled sound out of him. Bingo. A smile curves my lips as I focus in on that spot. That precious spot I bet he didn't even know he had.

I keep it up until I can easily fit two fingers inside of him. I am liberal with the lard, making my progress as easy as possible. Finally, I can't wait any more. I slip my aching cock out of my pants and slide it up his thigh. He screeches though his gag, what little fight he has left, he tries to muster. I keep my knee dug into his thigh as I begin to enter him. My free hand grips the rope between his shoulder blades and hauls it tight, making it harder for him to fight. His entrance stretches around me until my head pops in. I shudder at the sensation. It has been too long since I have gotten my fill of what I need. I thrust into him and the fight leaves him all at once, his body going limp on the desk. I grip his hips with both hands feeling him shudder with my slow and steady thrusts.

Exhaustion hits me as I continue to work him. I am glad my need has me ready to cum in a few thrusts. I grip the rope tight and give it a pull, bending his back and making his ass contract as I give three more thrusts and explode inside of him. The groan that escapes my lips is guttural and animalistic, but I suppose that is fair. I am an animal, using this boy to satisfy my needs.

I pull out of him and he whimpers once. I slip my cock into my pants and carefully pull his pants up over his hips. He remains still and silent as I go about untying first his leg, then elbows, wrists, and finally his gag. He keeps his eyes lowered as the damp fabric falls from his dry mouth. I can tell he is shell shocked, so I go and get him some water.

He takes the cup from me with shaking hands and says nothing as he drinks deeply. I get him another glass as he finishes it. I press a hunk of hardtack into his hand before picking up his shirt and handing it to him. As he slides it over his head I can see the welts rising from the rope burn criss crossing his body. Goosebumps cover my arms at the sight, but I have myself under control by the time his shirt is back in place.

"You will sleep in the brig tonight. You will return here tomorrow night and I will decide if our deal will work for us." I say, somehow managing to keep the edge out of my voice.

I open the door to my quarters and go find Max smoking at the helm, the boy trails behind me, silent. I tell him to take the boy back to the brig. I take Max's place and stare into the night sky, the adrenaline let down and exhaustion finally settling into my body. My thigh aches where the other bastard captain sliced me, but that is a problem for tomorrow. Tomorrow will bring the new day with the promise of our deal.