Title: Lost in Translation
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Barbossa, Jack/OCs, Will, Elizabeth, Tia Dalma, Gibbs, crew
Warning: Rape, violence/torture, language
Disclaimer: I don't own POTC; all belongs to Elliott, Rossio, etc.
Summary: After saling to World's End, Barbossa reaps the rewards
Jack was never one to refuse the use of his charms. There was hardly a time when a person would resist him when he dangled his sexuality in front of any man or woman.
This time was somewhat different, however. He did not wield his attractiveness as a weapon willingly, and the purpose behind it was for something he did not care for. He despised it.
He breathed heavily as he lay on the bed, glistening in the candlelight from the perspiration on his body. The being next to him was recovering from the exertion as well.
Jack was the first to get up, and he began putting on his clothes with slightly trembling fingers. The other male followed suit and voiced quietly, "C'était bon."
The black haired pirate smiled seductively. "C'était très bon."
"Vous étiez incroyable."
"Pas aussi mauvais vous-même. Première fois?"
The shy reply was "Oui," making Jack's smile broader for a brief moment.
The lad could not be more than twenty in years, bringing Sparrow to feel a most foreign emotion. He detested himself for what he was about to do and had a furious rage welling inside of him for the person who forced him into this situation.
His slender fingers found their way to his pistol and he acted quicker than his mind could comprehend.
The captain laughed wickedly as his prisoner was brought aboard roughly by two large crewmen. They flung the man to the deck and Barbossa descended from the helm to where he was sprawled.
"Get up and come with me."
Jack leisurely got to his feet and followed his former first mate into the cabin. His anger flourished as Barbossa simply regarded him casually; a grin prying at the edges of his lips. Sparrow's amber eyes were fraught with indignation. He stood firmly in place when Barbossa moved closer.
"Where be it, Jack?"
"North; on an island off the eastern coast of New Providence. It's in an abandoned church overgrown with weeds."
"Now you see Jack, that wasn't so hard, was it?" The captain's hand reached out to caress the younger man's cheek. "None of the crew could get that close to him to obtain the location. But you……you are gifted in the ways of deceivin' - hidden behind a handsome face."
Sparrow attempted to ignore the unwelcoming, stroking touch on his neck. "Why did you have me kill him? He was merely a lad, fresh to the sea life – he would've done you no harm."
"I know that." Barbossa's grin widened wickedly.
Jack snarled, snatched the malevolent pirate's wrist, and held it strongly before him. In a second, the barrel of a pistol was shoved beneath his chin and cocked. The men's eyes locked on one another's in a cold stare. Neither broke it as Sparrow started to release his grip slowly.
"Bâtard sanglant et inhumain," Jack growled. "Je vous inciterai à souffrir."
"You think it's wise to threaten me? As always, your words cause more trouble for ya than for the better. How old was the boy?"
"Then it be twenty lashes for ye now."
"Allez à l'enfer," Jack spat.
Barbossa chuckled, turned Sparrow around roughly, and shoved him out the door.
Wrists squirmed in an attempt to be free, but settled after realizing it was of no use. At least the ropes were not so tight anymore.
The being that was bound to the chair rested back and coughed harshly. Red liquid trickled out of his mouth, over his swollen and busted lip to his chin, and dribbled onto his chest. He was sure the previous blow had knocked a tooth free, but he did not find one to spit out. His mouth was slacked open to let air pass into his lungs as he breathed raggedly. Blood still leaked from his nose and the cuts on his cheeks and forehead. His left eye was surrounded by black and purple bruising that made it puffy; almost causing his eyelid to be sealed shut. Even though most of the strikes were focused on his face, there was the occasional punch to his abdomen that would make him double over; gasping for breath.
He lowered his head, allowing more blood to escape his mouth. He had lasted thirty minutes or so by his figuring and was utterly exhausted.
"You let him go! You were not to be just his whore! You were to kill him, you pathetic ingrate!"
Jack stole a glance upward to see Barbossa's furious countenance. "I told you where it is. Can't that suffice?" he replied hoarsely.
Barbossa backhanded him forcefully. "Of course it can't! It'll be heavily guarded now that he's surely gone to alert his crew."
Sparrow's bottom jaw moved side to side to help dull the impact. "The possibility of a fight has never hindered your pursuit of plunder in the past."
The captain smirked and growled, "You're right. I should look at this as a window of opportunity, should I not? I'll kill 'im myself and your insubordination will have been in vain."
He began to walk about slowly in a circle around Jack; his hands gliding over the other pirate's shoulders, neck, and hair.
"I have an idea as to why you let him run. It be a fairly accurate one, I believe."
"He was young an' handsome – just like that French lad you still regret."
"Shut up," Jack hissed dangerously as he met Barbossa's eyes and clenched his teeth.
"What was so special about him, Jack?"
"Was it because he reminded you of that Turner lad? And that in turn would lead you to remember the rest of your former crew shrinking away in the distance?"
Jack swallowed and started to breathe faster, but said nothing.
"I knew sailin' to World's End would be most profitable to me. They came to save ya, but it turned out they would be the ones needin' rescuin'. Curious how things turn out……I've got you, the meddlin' miscreants are dead on some island, and I'm captain of the ship you lost. Feels just like old times, doesn't it, Jack?"
"How did you get the Pearl?"
"Jones could not refuse such a request."
"Ah, so you've sold your soul then, eh?"
"Hardly. Davy Jones and I are men who are feared and not ones to fear others. He knows better than to make such an agreement like that with me. Now-" He came before his captive and knelt in front of him. "-seeing as you are on my ship, I suggest you start addressin' me as Captain."
"I'll not call the likes of you by that title."
"I think it would be in your best interest to do so."
"Nothing could ever make me call you that, you treacherous leech."
"Oh, I doubt that. There are ways to make a man do what you want. You've learned a few already. I suppose they just need to be stricter and much harsher."
Barbossa began to laugh but stopped immediately after Jack spat on his face. An ominous scowl became his expression, and Sparrow readied himself. The fist powerfully hit Jack's right cheekbone and fractured it upon contact. The man bit his lip in an attempt to smother the cry of pain he emitted.
Working quickly from his new eruption of anger, Barbossa untied Jack, hoisted him to his feet, and stripped the younger male from the waist up. Jack gave no fight, and let his captor drag him out to the deck.
"Bo'sun!" Barbossa shouted.
"Take this filthy wretch and give 'im thirty this time." He tossed Jack to the large man and snarled, "You keep upping the count for yourself. They say forty is enough to kill. Better watch it."
Two crewmembers fixed Jack's wrists to one of the ratlines and retreated as the Bo'sun snapped the whip at the ground. Jack jumped slightly and prepared for the punishment.
"Let the caged bird coo," Barbossa stated loudly. The crew laughed in response.
After several slices of the cat across his back, the Sparrow started to sing his sorrowed song.
The water undulated in the gentle breeze beneath the crystal clear Caribbean night. The moon illuminated the black sea as it rustled quietly. A small, refreshing spray occasionally dampened his face as he gazed distantly at it. There was a decently sized fire burning behind him that they had been able to produce. There was casual conversation happening, but he had sought solitude for the moment and cared less for what was being said.
The sound of sand beneath walking feet made him sigh in disappointment. He had a guess as to who it was, and it was the last person he wanted to see. He glanced up to confirm it and returned his eyes back toward the ocean. Elizabeth sat beside him and looked upon nature's calm as she waited to find if he would speak first, or if she should.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Will finally voiced.
"It is…….Will, I'm sorry."
He shook his head. "We were doomed to fail. We should've known he'd betray us."
"But we did what we set out to do. Jack's alive-"
"And now he's held prisoner on his own ship. He might as well have been better off where we found him."
"Why did Barbossa keep Jack? Why does he hate him so much?"
"There's been such talk sayin' Barbossa dislikes him because he became a captain so young and is generally well-liked by any crew he's in charge of." Will and Elizabeth turned to see Gibbs sitting next to her. He continued on, "See, Jack is rather approachable and governs his ship in a more…….laid-back way so to speak. Barbossa, well, he believes in captaining by fear; making most of his crew afraid to say more than one word to him."
Will's eyebrows furrowed. "Is he jealous of Jack?"
"Well, that's a question for the ages. I can't rightly say, but I do have one idea as to why Jack isn't here with us now."
The young blacksmith gave him a quizzical look, wanting him to go on.
"How many times has Jack escaped off an island after being marooned?"
"Twice," Elizabeth muttered.
"Aye. Two times too many. He probably wants to see Jack suffer in front of him with no chance of escapin' this time since he's gotten out of every death sentence he's ever found himself in."
Elizabeth's expression was gloomy, yet vaguely determined. "Then we have to do something."
"Unless you have some sort of genius plan to get off this island, lass, Jack has to survive the Devil himself."
Gibbs stood and treaded off to return to the rest of the crew. Will and Elizabeth remained silent for a short period before she spoke again.
"There has to be a way."
Will shook his head and snickered. "Why don't you just marry him?"
"Who?" she questioned, innocently confused.
"I saw you kiss him before he went down with the Pearl and I saw how you looked at him when we got him back."
"I don't know what look you're talking about."
"Yes…..you do. Everything I've ever done has been for you, but you don't see that. You're after some other man, some other life entirely…..I cannot give you what you want. I'm done."
He got up and retreated to the circle of men around the fire. Elizabeth stayed and stared with troubled eyes at the tranquil waters once more. She shivered as if cold, trying to make sense and soak in Will's words.
As soon as the bonds were untied, his knees gave out and he collapsed to the deck with a thud. He landed on his stomach, almost completely motionless. A crewmember brought forward a bucket of saltwater and poured it onto Jack's raw, horridly marred back. The pirate cried out and attempted to scramble away. The sturdy sole of a boot stepped onto his back, pressing him to lie flat. Jack yelped through his uneven breaths.
"Thirty looks good on ya, Jack," Barbossa observed above him. "Feelin' tired yet?"
Sparrow coughed roughly. After he regained some strength, he cocked his head and weakly whispered, "No."
Barbossa pushed his foot down harder. Jack whimpered in response. "I couldn't hear ya."
Jack licked his lips and spoke louder, "No." He knew it was probably not one of the smartest replies, but he did not want Barbossa thinking him helpless and cowardly. Not now.
"A fine answer."
The captain lifted Jack to his feet, took hold of his wrist, and strongly pulled him to his quarters. Once they were inside, the door was shut, and Jack was hurled against the nearest wall. His legs quaked tremendously, but he was determined to stay standing. He winced visibly upon impact, despite his attempts to contain it. Blood continued to leak from the wounds on his face and even more so on his back, making Barbossa thrilled to see.
Before he knew it, Barbossa was right in front of him with a devilish grin and amusement in his eyes. They were so close; Jack could feel the scoundrel's warm exhales on his already perspiring skin. A hand gripped Sparrow's chin firmly to force the long-haired pirate to look at him directly. Jack could only see the captain successfully with his right eye, for his left had swelled more, making it unable to open.
Fury pulsed through Sparrow's veins. His chest heaved up and down as he panted, and Barbossa's gaze focused on the area for a brief period before flickering over the rest of Jack's being. When he met the younger man's defiant stare once more, he chuckled quietly.
"Jack…..Jack…..You always belonged to this ship," he stated venomously. "Now, you belong to her and to me."
His knee went between Sparrow's thighs and pushed upward gently. Jack made a sound of protest at the pressure applied to his sensitive area. He shifted to try to get free, but Barbossa held him securely in place.
Barbossa tilted and turned Jack's head, then let his lips ghost over the male's jaw. Jack swallowed; his breathing increased rapidly. At last the captain put them to Sparrow's own lips for a tender kiss.
It did not last long.
With great speed, Sparrow pushed his captor from him and scurried toward the other side of the room. He did not make it far, however. Barbossa's fingers clasped around his arm, turned him to face him, and moved both his hands to the sides of Jack's torso. Sharp fingernails dug brutally into the incredibly torn flesh of Sparrow's back. Jack's spine arched in an effort to break away from what felt like knives, and his mouth opened as he practically screamed from the agony, but he was hurriedly muffled when Barbossa kissed him viciously. Their forms were pressed tightly against one another's as the nails continued to bore into the tender injuries. Jack's oral cavity was being aggressively copulated by a hot tongue. It made it drastically worse due to the fact that he was already finding it extremely difficult to breathe from the overwhelming distress he suffered from his ripped back. He struggled frantically like a mouse in the talons of an owl, scorned tears trickling helplessly from his eyes.
Barbossa broke contact and threw Jack to the floor. Jack landed with a soft whine. He started to crawl slowly away until he dropped to the hard surface just mere feet from where he began. He longed to be rendered unconscious, even death; anything except having to be aware of what was occurring.
The captain took a fistful of his victim's dark brown locks and kept hold as he treaded toward the bed. A vague noise escaped Jack's lips, and he followed as quickly as he could on the floor. When they reached the destination, Barbossa lifted Sparrow and tossed him onto the piece of furniture. Sparrow was divested of his clothing from the waist down within seconds, leaving him to lie wholly naked before his former first mate. He had never felt so vulnerable, so barren. His body shrieked for solace and trembled involuntarily.
It was not long until Barbossa had shed the last of his clothes. Without a word, he turned Jack over to lie on his stomach. Jack's heart pounded in his chest. He desperately wished to be knocked out, to not have to endure the exploitation of his body for the entertainment of a sadistic man.
He braced himself on his hands as his hips were hoisted upward. Barbossa penetrated him powerfully without warning, making him wail in misery and shame. The lust-driven captain provided no scrap of mercy to Jack's beaten frame as he thrust in and out of him barbarically. Jack's fingers clutched the bed linens like they were a life-line. He allowed small whimpers to come from his parted lips that mixed with the low grunting above him. The area spun around him when he tried to focus, and his vision became terribly blurry.
Soon, it all changed to black and Sparrow passed out.
A husky groan came from Jack as the haziness of sleep faded, bringing on the excruciating aches and stings of his wounds. He slid a slightly tremulous hand to the side, breathing a sigh of relief when it touched nothing other than the bed linens. His eyelids opened leisurely, permitting his exhausted, brown orbs to gaze about the area. The sunlight made him squint from its harshness, but he was able to discern that no one was with him.
"Thank Jesus for that," he whispered.
He grimaced as a wave of pain came over him as he attempted to lift himself up. His arms were too weak; they shook horribly before giving out, collapsing him to the bed. It was a simple action, yet it had made him breathe heavily from the exertion. He closed his eyes, waited a brief period to regain strength, and tried once more. The result was the same.
"Damn it," he muttered irately. "Come on. One more go."
"Still lyin' lazily in bed, I see."
The gruff voice rendered Jack entirely motionless. His heart beat rapidly in his chest and pounded in his ears. The footsteps that drew nearer made him tremble, and he detested the small bit of fear that welled within him.
Barbossa knelt beside the bed and stared at the extremely beaten countenance of the wearied pirate.
"I don't quite fancy ya lyin' here like this," he stated with a malicious grin. "About time to get up, don't ye think?"
"What's it to you? Surely you'll just be confining me here later. Why bother?"
"Wouldn't be fair to the crew, ya see. They enjoy watchin' a pretty thing like you wanderin' the deck as they work. I certainly can't deny them any satisfaction that may be had." He laughed at the horror that flashed in Jack's eyes and stood. "I suggest ye get up now and be out on deck in five minutes. Elseways, I'll toss ya to them myself."
Jack waited until the captain was gone before trying his endeavor again. This time, he persevered through the torment and got to a sitting position. The next daunting task was getting dressed. He concluded that just his shirt and breeches would do.
Though it was a tremendous struggle, he succeeded in making it to the double doors to exit before his five minute limit was reached.
The air was refreshing, yet the sun still had the awful ability to make his eyes squint and water because of its brightness. They adjusted in a minute or so, and he limped out of the cabin. His visage continued to wince from the soreness of his whole backside even when he tried to conceal it. He was only permitted to travel to the end of the staircase before a crewman treaded to him and placed his wrists in handcuffs.
"Captain's orders," the man said cantankerously.
As the crew member walked off, Jack glared and stated coldly, "Thank you."
He gazed up to the helm and began ascending the stairs after he noticed the person he wished to speak with was there. Posture straight, head high, and shoulders back, Jack stood next to the captain, who was occupied with writing down the coordinates from the unique compass. Jack's eye twitched agitatedly, for no longer was it in his possession.
"What are your plans for me durin' the day?" he inquired blandly. "Apparently you don't like me cooped up in your room."
Barbossa raised himself to full height and turned to the younger man. "It be not for me to decide, Jack."
"What are you implyin', Hector?" He said the name with incredible disdain, knowing how much the other man hated being addressed with it. A tiny smirk pried at his lips from seeing the anger flare in Barbossa's eyes.
"It's a free day for them. After today, they'll have to pay with a single piece of their own swag to do what they desire to do."
"And this is relevant to me how?"
"As I said, Jack. Grace the deck with your presence. That's all ya need to know."
Sparrow scrutinized the man's expression to gain a better understanding, but it revealed nothing. He sighed and descended to the deck. It was no more than four steps that he went before a number of the men started to surround him. He glanced from one leering face to another, gradually comprehending what they were after.
Quickly, he began racing toward the bow. In seconds, a hand snatched a portion of his hair, snapping his head up and making him yelp. With unbelievable strength, he was slammed against the rough wood of the ship's main deck. There was no chance of bolting away; greedy fingers and hands were probing, groping, restraining. He thrashed about as his shirt was hoisted up over his head, gathering at his wrists. Coos and lewd comments filled his ears, along with the throbbing of his heartbeat. His breeches were undone and pulled off viciously. Someone grabbed his leg and began to drag him to the center of the area. He moved onto his stomach and attempted to dash away. The action simply made his fingertips burn from the friction created by the wood, for he was still being pulled farther.
Once satisfied with the location, he was forced to his knees, and without warning, a man shoved his large erection into his mouth. Frenziedly, he pushed on the male's hips and jerked back, but a firm grip was placed on the top of his skull; it prevented him from moving. When he did not comply, a swift knee collided with his abdomen. It robbed him of breath.
There was nothing he could do other than give in to pleasuring the crewmate.
As his cheeks hollowed and the muscles of his throat went to work, the crowd shouted wildly from the entertainment. His eyelids were open to slits, and he desperately tried to drown out everything around him. It would do no good to be wounded more than he already was from the degrading names they yelled, he thought.
His tongue occasionally licked about the tip and around the hard length; he hoped it would bring the male to climax quickly. After what seemed like a long period, a shudder went through the man, and he hurriedly withdrew from Jack's oral cavity. Jack closed his eyes and pursed his lips as the white liquid bathed his face. He resigned himself to do nothing. A stabbing pain went through his chest; his pride was dwindling rapidly.
No time was wasted before he collapsed on his back as a different man mounted him. His slender legs were parted and lifted as the male settled into position. Brutally, the crewman penetrated Jack's battered body. Jack arched upward, and a pitiful wail came from him followed by a noisy hiss. His shackled wrists were held securely above his head. The pressure applied from the coarse wood onto the tender lashes on his back caused him to whimper and moan wretchedly.
The male thrust in and out of him with unbearable power. Sparrow gritted his teeth and uttered curse words to himself from the tears forming in his eyes. When the first droplet trickled from his bruised eye to his hair, the crew erupted into laughter. A few men who had found the sight of maltreatment arousing without even touching the victimized pirate moved to stand over him as they reached orgasm. The results cascaded onto Jack's thin frame – onto his torso, neck, and visage – making him squirm from the violation.
Jack felt the warm ejaculation of the man on top of him within his body. Another man was soon upon him, defiling him cruelly. From behind the mob, a low chuckle reached Sparrow's ears. His eyelids fluttered open and he searched frenziedly for the captain. Within seconds, he locked his stare with Barbossa's; rage, pain, humiliation, and the faintest hint of pleading were conveyed in Jack's gaze. Barbossa laughed at this. He shook his head and remained where he was to witness the abuse, providing his former captain with no aid or mercy.
Jack was drenched with sweat. He panted weightily; soft whimpers sounded from his throat. To the depraved gathering, it was gorgeous music to their ears. A loud cry came from him when the male on him gave an immensely forceful thrust. He was silenced by hungry lips that crashed against his. An eager tongue pushed its way into his mouth and explored the territory. Jack's wrists twisted in their confines, and he trembled incessantly.
As each member of the crew took their turn fornicating with the prisoner, ravenous hands molested him relentlessly; no portion of his body went untouched.
When the fifteen men had at last satiated their lust, they disbanded casually. Jack lay quivering where he was. His head was spinning and his vision was unclear due to the tears that escaped freely. His entire being was on fire; not simply from the blazing sun, but from the aftermath of the exploitation. The anguish was abundant, making him whine almost inaudibly from the suffering. He was paralyzed. It was too taxing to move even an inch.
A violent kick to his side made him curl up and cough weakly.
"Ya can't stay lyin' in the middle of the deck," Barbossa said sardonically from above. "You'll only get in the way."
Jack spat out the semen that had leaked into his mouth. "Where do you propose I go then?" he asked breathlessly, yet with all the conviction he could gather. It was not much.
"Off to the side. Who knows if they'll want another fuck from ya?"
He laughed and strolled up to the helm. Slowly, Sparrow crawled to the ship's railing and slumped down beside a canon. He lowered his shirt and wiped his face clean of the men's milky substances. The rest of the creamy fluid that clung to his skin mixed with his perspiration and slid down his slim frame. The thought of it ridding him of the sheer vulnerability and helplessness he felt came to mind when a few droplets sprinkled onto the deck; the mortification would be washed away. Wearily, he gazed at the spot where he had been minutes ago, seeing a small pool of blood and semen that remained. He snickered, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes.
"A filthy whore aboard me own ship," he said in a raspy voice. "After what's been done and what's to come, no one had better come to save me. I'm certainly not worth it now."
Chocolate eyes stared ravenously at the captain's plate. A small slab of meat, bread, wine, and of course, a green apple adorned it. His stomach voiced its misery as Barbossa leisurely consumed his dinner. How long had it been since a decent meal? He was not sure. The taste of stale, slightly molded bread was becoming revolting, and there was never enough water provided to omit the dryness left in his mouth. It hurt – being so famished and being pushed closer and closer to his physical limit every day. Soothingly, he rubbed his abdomen, hoping to assuage the pain of emptiness.
Dare he ask? No, that would most likely cause him more distress. It would be another punishment that he would not be able to handle, especially after the gang rape and beatings that had occurred earlier that day. Then again, surely Barbossa did not want his captive losing strength quite so soon; it would remove a large portion of the enjoyment the men had when maltreating him. The struggle was a turn on, and Jack knew it.
Longingly, he gazed with wide eyes at the juice that had wept from the apple and onto the brown, scraggly beard. He licked his lips and moved to the edge of his seat. The other man was too far across the table for him to try and steal anything. An apple – a simple firm, succulent, delicious apple – would send him into a spasm of ecstasy. He winced at the clenching of his stomach. This was another torture, he thought. A necessity of life was right before him, but he was not allowed to indulge in it.
Barbossa grinned devilishly from the engrossed expression on Jack's face as he bit into the fruit for the last time. He dropped the core onto the dish absentmindedly and gulped down a sizeable amount of wine. He chuckled at the almost inaudible whimper that came from Jack's slightly opened mouth.
"Ya hungry, Jack?" he inquired casually.
"Y-Yes," Jack spoke intensely softly.
The captain stood and walked the plate over to Sparrow. The sight up close made Jack almost weep from its beauty. It was not much by any means – only the remains of what Barbossa had not eaten – but there was enough meat left on the bone for a couple of bites, a slice of seasoned bread, and a little more that could be extracted from the devoured apple.
"Have that," Barbossa said and stalked into the adjacent room.
Jack closed his eyes, muttered words of thankfulness, and attacked the food like a vulture.
Several minutes after he had finished the pathetic dinner, he crept cautiously toward the bedroom. He peered around the corner before fully entering. Barbossa stood, observing scrupulously as Jack came nearer. An abrupt feeling of trepidation filled the younger man from noticing the captain was dressed in only his shirt and breeches. He hurriedly brushed the apprehension aside, attempting to show confidence instead of hesitation.
"Thank you for that," he stated quietly.
"Ye know it comes at a price, Jack. This time, you're the one payin'."
The aching sensation in his chest made his expression morph into one of depression. He drew in a deep breath and asked, "On the bed, then?"
"Aye, on the bed."
Shaking hands removed Sparrow's shirt, and unsteady fingers unbuttoned and lowered his breeches. The pirate stepped out of them and shuffled to the somewhat rickety piece of furniture. He lay on his back, aimlessly waiting for Barbossa to crawl on top of him. When the older man did, coarse hands lifted him up to sit. Before he could voice his confusion, Barbossa kissed him erotically. A surprised noise sounded in Jack's throat as their lips worked rapturously with one another's.
Without parting, Barbossa lowered Sparrow slightly; his arms were slacked around the pirate's torso. After numerous minutes of exploring Jack's mouth, his lips forged a path to the man's neck. His tongue licked the length of his throat and suckled on it fervently. A breathy, contented sigh escaped Jack. His eyes were closed and his fingers combed Barbossa's hair.
Downward Barbossa ventured, planting passionate kisses onto Sparrow's chest. He eased Jack onto his back as he captured a taut nipple between his lips. Jack's toes curled, and his back arched. He produced a quavering whine in response to the warm tongue circling and licking the tender spot. Teeth latched onto it and tugged lightly. Jack trembled and moaned gloriously.
"Ohh…." he panted elatedly. "Ahh…." The touch was not completely invited, but it was far better than the horrendous molestations the men did to him. "Nnhnn….Hector," he whispered rather ardently.
Barbossa ceased his ministrations and violently grabbed Jack's neck. It made the pirate yelp like a beaten cur. The action snapped him back into his reality of Hell.
"Certainly can't have ya enjoy it that much," Barbossa said venomously. He applied pressure on the man's throat, causing Jack to emit a choking sound. "Need I remind ya that you aren't in control?"
He released his grip, moved down Sparrow's quaking frame, and removed the dagger that was tucked into his breeches. Jack stared at the captain with alarm as a hand was placed under his bended knee to hoist his right leg.
"No, certainly can't have ya enjoy anythin'," Barbossa said bluntly.
The first violent slash colored the underside of Sparrow's thigh. Jack writhed about and bit his tongue to smother any sort of wounded expression. A second was created beside the first, followed by five more lacerations. Jack breathed unevenly as he cried forlornly. The gashes were of good length and fairly deep. Blood flowed from the fresh injuries; Barbossa's blue eyes sparkled with excitement from the sight.
The captain got up, placed the weapon into his coat pocket, and returned to hover over Jack once more. He lowered his breeches and lifted the younger man's legs onto his shoulders. Jack shook his head helplessly, yet he knew there was nothing he could do to dissuade Barbossa from continuing.
Once his arousal was saturated with oil, Barbossa entered Sparrow forcibly. Jack groaned shamefully, only fueling the captain's desire to see him suffer. Barbossa shoved his way into Jack's body until he was completely sheathed within the pirate's warmth. He did not wait long before starting to thrust vigorously in and out of the misused being. Jack's body rocked involuntarily with Barbossa's with every vigorous propulsion. His tender muscles were in dreadful agony as the hardened member forged its way into him again and again.
The sight of Sparrow's face contorted in torment and mortification, and the strained noises he created made Barbossa ejaculate within him after several minutes. A tremor shot through Jack's anatomy before the captain at last pulled entirely out of him.
There was no time to recover. He was pushed powerfully off the bed, landing on the floor with a weak moan.
"Waste such as you sleep on the ground," Barbossa stated coldly.
Jack coughed scratchily and dragged himself to the corner of the room opposite of the bed. He curled up and scolded himself as he sobbed.
Though he was utterly exhausted, he did not allow himself to succumb to sleep until he was absolutely sure Barbossa was.
Jack was woken by a harsh kick to his stomach. He gasped and quickly opened his eyes. The room was lit by the warming sun, and Barbossa's figure was shadowed before him.
"Get up," the captain said gruffly.
Those were the only two words spoken between them as Barbossa put on his entire attire and Jack dressed himself with his shirt and breeches. The finishing touch was the handcuffs, which Barbossa secured about the pirate's wrists. Sparrow had hoped they would be disregarded, seeing as how they were unshackled before he sat down to dinner with Barbossa the previous night. Alas, he was not granted such luxury.
He ambled out the door behind Barbossa, dreading each step he took that moved him closer to the crew. Some liked to begin the day with it, while others waited until later in the afternoon. He watched with scornful eyes at the three men who made their way to their captain. After a very brief period of conversing, Barbossa shook hands with each of them to signify the accord. Jack emitted a quivering sigh, and his heart sped its pace. One of the men strode to him, grabbed his arm in such a manner that was hard enough to bruise, and hauled him to the descending stairs near the bow.
Once below, they did not travel far before he was struck forcefully by the man's fist. He stumbled backward and desperately sought to keep his balance. The attempt failed, and he fell to the ground with a small groan. The buttons of his breeches were rapidly undone, and the garment was ripped from his body. He could not prevent himself from shaking as the crewmember helped himself to fondling his battered frame and kissed him debauchedly. Dirty fingers ran themselves over the strands of beads in his hair before petting the disheveled mane. He was not sure which was worse: being touched inappropriately everywhere and beaten a little or having the man inside of him until the warm climax filled him. Frankly, it did not matter. He always experienced severe humiliation and disgrace, not to mention the sensation of being disgustingly violated, from both scenarios. The present crewmate indulged in a bit of both as did the next one. The last, however, merely craved to physically abuse Jack to a drastic degree.
Aggressive and furious blows showered him to the point of causing him to weave in and out of consciousness. His vision was tinted red as blood flowed from his head and down over his half-opened eyelids. An awful cracking sound was heard, and he gave a feeble wail. A searing pain tore through his left shoulder; it blinded him for a moment.
The beating came to a close soon after, leaving him sprawled out on the floor in a bloody, bruised, immobile heap. After the crewman had returned to the deck, a number of minutes passed before Sparrow retrieved his article of clothing. As he worked to pull the breeches up and button them, he quietly cried in agony. His left clavicle bone was broken in half; the two ends now overlapped one another. It immersed him in a terrible inferno.
He got to his feet, though had to wrap his arms around the nearest wooden post to keep from collapsing. He panted heavily; perspiration covered his skin. At last he found a sliver of strength, and he took use of it fast.
When he made it up to the deck, there was nothing to do other than wait for the next taker.