Fanfic
Title: Fingers
Author: Telera
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Beckington
Word Count: 558
Summary: Lord Beckett plays a new game with James…
Warnings: Very kinky and twisted. Consider yourselves warned.
Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. No profit is made out of this, I’m only borrowing the characters for fun. All mistakes are mine.
Author’s Note: Inspired by various comments & ideas from kittysilence,
ophelivia, and
pink_siamese, and dedicated to the three of them. ^^
Fingers.
One.
Two.
Three.
Fo-
‘Lord…’
Foou-
‘Beck…’
FOUR.
‘kehth…….’
James sweating, writhing, whimpering over Lord Beckett’s desk. His ragged breath misted up the polished mahogany, a thin trickle of saliva dribbled down his mouth. Lord Beckett always stretched him wide open before a long and tedious meeting with the EITC officers. It was his cock, cane or ivory horn, bathed in sweet scented oils, semen and spit. Slick, slippery, the four fingers scissored inside him, and James’s jaw slacked open, grunts gurgling in his throat.
‘Stuffed like a Christmas goose’ Lord Becket murmured as he buried his fingers up to the second knuckle.
James hit his forehead against the unyielding wood and sobbed. He would spend the meeting wriggling in his seat, wincing in pain whenever he shifted position and pretending a fit of cough to account for his red face when he finally stood up. A sudden push, the third knuckle, and James yelled in pain. The rough white burn seared his puffy flesh for a neverending moment, then it was suddenly gone.
‘Pity’ Lord Beckett sighed, the distant chimes of the corridor wall clock echoing the late appointment ‘But you mustn’t worry’.
His bony fingers crooked one last time inside him, twisting like live eels and leaving his body in a rough, quick motion. James groaned and slumped down over the mahogany desk, a heap of crumbled clothes and sticky skin. Lord Beckett moved around the room, and presently placed a toy soldier on the desk. It was a Royal Navy captain, standing to attention with a stern look in his face and his left hand on his sword hilt. James frowned as Lord Beckett’s fingers loosened the satin ribbon on his wig and tied it around the captain’s ankles. It was only when he poured some drops of oil down the officer’s tricorn that realization finally dawned.
‘Milord’ James kicked in a vain attempt to stand up, and a hard slap smacked his sore bottom. Lord Beckett walked behind him, spread his cheeks open and blew over the heated flesh.
‘Please’ he begged as he felt the captain’s hat prodding at his entrance. Another slap and the toy soldier was buried inside him in one steady push. James panted shallowly, swollen muscles clenching rhythmically around the hard intrusion. The ribbon hung low between his thighs, a long black tail tickling his sensitive skin.
‘Stand’.
James squeezed his eyes shut and laid his hands flat over the desk, pushing himself up and grimacing in pain.
‘You’ll wear it for the rest of the evening’ Lord Beckett sentenced ‘Pull it out, and I’ll tether you to my bed’s foot tonight’ he reached out, grabbed the ribbon and tugged softly. It was enough to make James yelp ‘Would you like that?’
James looked down, unable to hold his steely gaze. A flash of memory. His back a rocking horse, Lord Beckett a rich, spoiled child riding him around the bedchamber, riding crop in hand. James looked down and meekly denied with his head.
‘Good. Go now. They must be waiting for you already’.
James pulled his breeches up and fastened them quickly. He then tiptoed out of Lord Beckett’s office, the toy soldier digging fiercely into his flesh. He clenched his jaw tight. Anything would be better than spending the night neighing and pawing the carpeted floor.