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Allegiance - Chapter 3

by The Stowaway


Five years later; Speightstown, Barbados

The assault had been a success; with the fort now held by pirates, the Pearl had the town her mercy. It was the first time Barbossa had allowed Will - by now the best warrior on the Pearl - to plan and command the action entirely on his own and he had done so in a manner to please the most exacting master. Will had gone ashore with the first wave, to complete the reduction of the fort, and he was kept busy for some hours, arranging matters to his satisfaction. He had the remnant of the garrison locked up and saw to the manning of the fort's remaining guns with the best of the Pearl's gunners. It took time, but in the end they had swung most of the cannons around and trained them on the town. The pirates were amusing themselves with firing over top of the buildings, creating a huge din but - for the present - following Will's orders to do no damage.

Barbossa had taken the inn just outside the fort gates as his headquarters and it was there that a delegation of leading citizens, headed by the mayor, waited upon him to hear his terms. They were harsh; fifty thousand gold pieces, to be delivered no later than sundown the next day.

The men begged and pleaded, claiming that such a sum was not to be found. Barbossa merely laughed and pointed out that sacking the town, while more work for his men, would certainly yield the equivalent of fifty thousand pieces, if not more. The delegation blanched and fell to whispering among themselves.

"Take your time," Barbossa told them, "But I will not be able to hold my men in check for long if they grow impatient."

At last the mayor stepped forward, wringing his hands, and stammered that the ransom would be paid by the time specified.

"Very wise of you," the pirate chuckled. "And now gentlemen, I call your attention to this table, bearing pens and paper. You will each write the necessary instructions to your families and associates, concerning the raising of the ransom, and you," he said, pointing to one man at random, "will bear them all. The rest of you will remain in the fort as my guests. In the event that the ransom is late, I shall hang one of you from the walls each hour until it is paid."

The hostages did as they were ordered and were then hustled off to the dungeon of the fort. As they were taken away, Barbossa beckoned to the big black known as Bo's'n and murmured, "Get me a girl."  Bo's'n grinned.

"Aye, sir," he replied, and slipped out the back door, on his way to the town.

Barbossa rose and stretched, grinning to himself in anticipation, and surveyed the common room - full to the walls with pirates, drinking and carousing. He waded through them to the bar and scooped up a tankard of rum. Raising it high, he shouted, "Men, take what you can!" and the room roared the response, "Give nothin' back!" 

He circulated for a time amongst them, laughing and drinking, always with one eye upon the door. When Bo's'n appeared, holding a struggling maidservant by one arm, Barbossa jerked his head toward the open staircase that ran up to the gallery that circled the high room. The slender young woman - hardly more than a girl - screamed and redoubled her efforts to escape, but the black dragged her through the now silent crowd with ease. Barbossa met them at the foot of the stairs. He brushed the girl's long light-brown hair back from her face and tilted her chin up. "You're a pretty one, sweetheart," he said. "Be kind to a lonely sailor. Give us a kiss."

She struck him in the face with all her strength. The pirates roared with laughter. Barbossa smiled. He twisted her arms behind her back and forced her up the stairs. "You'll regret that, missy."  On the half-landing he paused and turned her to face the crowded room, which echoed with cheers and catcalls. "Your turn next, boys!" he shouted.

The girl's shriek was lost in the cacophony that erupted as the pirates whooped and cheered. She struggled frantically as Barbossa dragged her up the second flight and along the balcony, crying, "Let me go! Please! Help me! Someone, help me! Oh God, please let me go!" Her words were cut off as Barbossa shoved her into a room, entered himself, and slammed the door.

Shortly thereafter a shrill scream was heard, then another and the words "NO!" and "Help me!" After a pause, the screams began again and went on for some time, growing steadily weaker. The men in the common room chuckled. "Proper hellcat, she must be," they said. "Hope the Captain leaves somethin' for us."

Will walked slowly out of the fort and down to the inn. He was tired, but it was the best kind of fatigue - that of a job well done. Everything had gone according to his plan; he felt a little surge of pride at the thought. He had taken fort and town with a minimum of losses - to either side. Will had never developed the taste for wholesale slaughter that some of his mates so reveled in. If he could get the gold without it, he'd just as soon leave the sheep alive as not. It made sense, he thought, to leave them alive to grow more fleece, like a wise shepherd. Chuckling at his flight of fancy, he wondered if all the whores had gone into hiding along with everyone else. He wanted a woman, and he was in the mood to be generous to the right one - someone who knew how to laugh as well as fuck. He entered the common room and stood for a moment watching the men celebrate. It looked as if everyone not on duty was here. He was pleased to think that they were obeying his order to stay out of town and leave the townsfolk alone.

Movement on the stairs caught his eye. Barbossa stood on the half-landing, holding a woman by the arm. Well, he found a whore, at any rate, Will thought, amused. But then something about her demeanor caught his attention and he looked closer, squinting to see through the eddies of smoke that filled the large room. She was dressed only in a torn shift, the bodice of which she held closed with one shaking hand. Through the tangled hair that half-covered her face, Will saw a livid bruise upon her cheekbone. Her mouth was swollen and bloody. With a thrill of horror, Will noticed the blood on her skirts. That was no whore! He began to push through the crowd.

Barbossa dragged the girl to the banister. "Show them what you've got, bitch," he said, and ripped her shift down the front. She sobbed and clutched at the garment, but he pinned her arms and thrust her forward. Her breasts bore teeth marks, some of which still bled. "Well gentlemen," he cried, "who wants to be next?" He swung her up and held her over the rail, above the mob that seethed and howled wildly.

Will beat upon the backs of those blocking his way but could make no progress - all attention was fixed firmly on Barbossa and the girl. Will's shout was lost in the roaring of the pirates. He must stop this! At that instant Barbossa let go his hold and dropped her into the upraised arms of the men nearest the stairs. With a piercing wail, the girl vanished from Will's sight.

Frantic now, Will kicked and punched like a man possessed, forcing his way to the front of the room by brute strength. He burst through the front rank of men just as a shocked silence fell over them and they began to back away from something on the floor. Will looked down. She lay on her back in a spreading pool of blood, her throat slashed, eyes wide and staring. Will saw that she was - had been - young, no older than he, and that her hair was golden-brown. He gagged.

"Who did this?" he asked, looking from face to face, his voice low and deadly. "Who?"

"She done it herself, Will" one said. "Aye, she did," said another. They were all nodding. "She kilt herself." "Aye, grabbed Hatch's dagger and cut her own throat."

Will looked up at Barbossa. Their eyes locked; Will's blazing, Barbossa's cold and flat as a snake's. Barbossa turned and went upstairs and into his room. The click of the latch was like a pistol shot in the silence.

Will looked down at the dead girl. "Bury her decently," he said at last. "And clean up this mess." He headed for the stairs.

Outside Barbossa's door he paused for a moment and then entered without knocking. "What," he asked, "in the name of HELL do you think you are doing?"

Barbossa stretched his legs out before him and leaned back in his chair. "Surely, boy," he smiled, "that must be obvious, even to you."

"But why like that?" Will shouted, pointing at the torn dress still lying on the floor. "Why not a willing whore?"

"Because I'd a taste for fresher meat," Barbossa chuckled. "The struggle adds a very pleasing spice to the dish. You should try it, sometime."

"Not bloody likely. It's… disgusting." Will clenched his fists and strode up and down the room distractedly.

Barbossa shook his head. "I've not managed even yet to rid you of your girlish tender-heartedness, have I?" he asked, with mock solicitude. "Such concern for prey ill becomes a pirate, Will."

"And that's another thing," Will rounded on him. "What about the plan to leave the town untouched unless they failed to pay ransom?"

Barbossa shrugged. "One maidservant…"

"Is one too many!" Will cried. "This operation was mine to plan and execute - you gave it me, I earned the right. I will not have it destroyed like this."

Barbossa stood, an unpleasant light in his eye. "Oh ho," he sneered. "You 'will not have it', eh? Hearken to a cabin boy grown too big for his britches. Watch your tongue around your Captain, cabin boy." And he slapped Will across the face.

Without thinking, Will slapped him back.

Quick as a striking snake, Barbossa shoved Will back against the wall and held him there with a knife to his throat. "You struck me, boy. Shall I tell you what happened to the last person to do that?" Will glared at him without answering. Barbossa laughed softly. "No," he said, "I've a better idea. I will show you."  He plucked Will's pistol and dagger from his sash and tossed them onto the chair across the room. Will's sword followed.

Barbossa took Will's jaw in his free hand and kissed him hard, biting his lips. Will gasped.

"What…" he began. Barbossa cut him off.

"You said you wouldn't have it, when I took a woman," he mocked. He turned Will's head to face him, grip bruising, nails digging in painfully. "Well, then, fair enough. You're prettier than most girls… and you're mine."

"No!" Will said, "I won't. I never…"

"Never what, boy? Never had a man fuck you?" Barbossa kissed him again, pressing the knife against his throat when he tried to pull away. "Well, it's high time you learned to take it like the soft-hearted girl you are. Who knows? You may discover you've a taste for it." He laughed again, the sound made Will shudder. "Two virgins in one afternoon. Must be my lucky day."

"Barbossa, you bastard, let me go. I will not do this."

"You will," Barbossa replied, reaching to unbutton Will's breeches. "Insubordination, Will Turner, will earn you a flogging on top of a fucking. I'd hate to see such a lovely body scarred by the lash." He took hold of Will's cock as he spoke and stroked it roughly.

Will groaned and willed his body not to respond, to no avail. He flushed scarlet as he stiffened in Barbossa's clever grip. He groaned again as he was spun round and slammed face-first into the wall. Barbossa pulled his coat and waistcoat off his shoulders and down to his elbows, effectively binding his arms. His breeches were yanked down and he bit his lip as two oily fingers forced their way inside him. The fingers twisted, wrenching at him savagely; he barely stopped himself from whimpering. His head was pulled back and Barbossa bit his mouth. "You will cry out for me, boy, so don't try to be brave. It will only make me harder on you. Don't fight it. Be grateful I am getting you ready for my cock." Barbossa added a third finger as he spoke and Will whimpered. "That's it, boy. Give in."

He turned Will and bent him over the table, holding him in place with a hand pressed to the small of his back, fingers working ever deeper, opening and preparing him. Will closed his eyes and tried not to think about what would happen next. At last the tormenting fingers were withdrawn, replaced moments later by the blunt head of Barbossa's cock. Barbossa took hold of his hips and pushed hard, sinking balls-deep on the first thrust. Will cried out hoarsely. The invading flesh felt huge and it burned like a rod of fire. Barbossa laughed and thrust again and again, wringing more cries from Will.

"It's all one to me, boy," he said, fucking Will hard, "I find you delicious this way - taut and struggling just suits my humor - but it would hurt you less to submit yourself to me."

"Never," Will replied, through clenched teeth.

But when Barbossa reached around and began to stroke Will's cock, Will was appalled to hear himself start to plead. "Please," he whimpered, "please."

"That's better," Barbossa laughed, "Now, admit that I own you. Tell me you are mine."

"Barbossa…" Will gasped.

"Call me Hector, boy. It ought to be first names between us by now, wouldn't you say? At least when I've got my prick buried in your lovely, tight arse. Say it. Say 'I'm yours, Hector.'"

Will was silent. Suddenly Barbossa stopped moving. He pressed his hips tight against Will's ass and froze. His hand stopped moving on Will's cock and he waited. "No," Will panted, wriggling, "please."

"Avid as a bitch in heat, after all." Barbossa whispered. "What a lovely thing it is to see you break. Say it."

Will sobbed once and whispered something.

"Louder, boy. I want to hear you. Speak up."

"I… I'm yours, Hector."

Barbossa began to move. "There now, it wasn’t so difficult, was it?" He stroked Will's cock hard and fast and Will spent himself with a cry, panting as if he had just run a race. Barbossa then took his time coming to his own completion, enjoying to the full the broken moans of the man beneath him as he thrust himself into flesh made painfully sensitive by climax. At last he came with a muffled grunt and withdrew from Will's body.

He fastened his breeches and looked down at Will, who had not moved and appeared to be unconscious. Taking up a pitcher of water, he dumped it over Will's head, saying as he did so. "Get up and dress yourself."

Will stood painfully and struggled out of his coat. Slowly, he put himself to rights. He did not look at Barbossa, who sat watching him with a gloating smile.

"Now, cabin boy," he said as Will finished dressing and was putting on his sword. "You are relieved of command of this expedition. You will return to the Pearl, take charge of the gun crews there, and await my orders. Under no circumstances are you to leave the ship without my express permission, do you understand?"

"Aye, Captain."

"Oh, and you will move your things into my cabin. Yours will be needed for storage of the ransom."

Will shuddered. "Aye, Captain."

"Now get out of my sight."

Will went without another word. He stumbled blindly down the stairs and through the common room. Once free of the inn, the cool night breeze made him shiver as the sweat dried on his skin. He fell to his knees and puked as if he would heave up his very stomach. Then he staggered to his feet and returned to the Pearl. He had nowhere else to go.
 

 

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