Pirates of the Caribbean (Davy Jones/Will)
Title: A Matter of Service
Author: Ladyofshadow
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Tentacle sex, non-con
Word count: 1,149
Summary: Will Turner is called to the Captain’s quarters…
Service aboard the Flying Dutchman came at a price.
Once you were aboard the damned ship, living or dead, Davy Jones commanded you, body and soul.
It had been years since Davy Jones last felt flesh between his loins - live flesh that didn’t involve a sea creature or the members of his undead crew. With Will Turner on his ship, the temptation was beyond measure. His crew had been sizing up the tender morsel, but he gave the orders that Will Turner was his and his alone.
“Cap’n, I’ve brought the boy as ordered,” his first mate called outside his quarters.
“Good,” Jones said. “Do show him in.”
Will was shoved into the room and glared at the creature responsible. He was an object of scorn aboard the ship, untouched by death, and that made him a target in the eyes of the crew.
If it wasn’t for his father providing him a safe refuge to sleep, Will doubted that he would have survived even one night below deck in the foul smelling underbelly.
“What do you want, Jones?”
“That’s Captain, to you boy,” he replied, pursing his lips to regard the young man with a smug smack of his lips.
“Captain, then,” Will said. The floorboards trembled when the door slammed behind him. “What do you want?”
“Come now, young Master Turner, to be invited to the Captain’s quarters is an honor not many of the crew gets to experience,” he stood and took heavy, measured steps toward the man before he stopped. “Right now, you are my honored guest.”
“An honored guest a whiplash away from irons,” Will responded sharply.
Will stepped back and assessed the room, hoping to find another exit. He assumed this was the merely the Captain’s office, but it appeared to be his private accommodations as well. Shredded seaweed lined a bed coated in brine, with puddle of seawater at its center. The ocean clung to every orifice in the room and he wrinkled his nose when the Captain approached. He stunk like fermented kelp left out in the sun for too long.
Jones’ tentacled arm grabbed Will’s wrist and pulled him closer. He breathed in Will’s youthful scent before spewing soggy pipe tobacco breath in a half-laugh.
Will nearly gagged at the stench and pulled at the squid-like appendages, trying to free his wrist. Slime coated his effort and he went to reach for Jones’s belt, intent on relieving him of his cutlass. A heavy blow to his gut deterred his efforts and his vision blackened. The offending claw ripped at his shirt, exposing his bare skin to Jones.
Tentacles from Jones’ throat attached to his face, pulsing around his cheeks. His knees buckled when Jones leaned in closer. Will turned his head, feeling bile rise in his throat as one of the tentacles sought his mouth.
“Stop it!”
“We’ve only naught but started boy,” Jones smirked. He dragged the man over to his bed, pinning him against the seaweed. He closed his eyes and allowed his tentacles to roam down Will’s neck, delighting in the way the man’s smooth skin allowed them to glide lower.
Will growled and fought against the touch. His chest was sticky from the tentacles and they massaged at his muscles. He started to panic as the tentacles undid his belt. “What are you doing?? Stop…gau…”
Jones leered down at him. “You best be silent boy or else I can drown you with this. I bet ye wouldn’t be liking this to suffocate ye down yer throat.”
Spittle gathered at the edge of Will’s mouth as he gagged on the tentacle. He nodded, resisting the urge to bite down. He didn’t want to know what fluid might leak down his throat if he bit down on the tentacles and his chest heaved at the thought. When Jones removed the tentacle he spit out the vile slime.
Jones slapped Will’s face aside and yanked down Will’s pants. He stared at the trembling bit of flesh and wrapped his tentacles around it, coiling around the balls as he would a pair of dice.
Will gasped and arched back, squeezing his eyes shut at the moist grope. The revulsion at the cold touch prevented initial arousal and he bit back a sob. The tentacles suctioned at his skin, coating his length with a fine coat of slime. He tried to think of Elizabeth, but banished her from his thoughts so he wouldn’t sully her image. He then tried to force his mind elsewhere, but his body reacted despite his best efforts for control.
“Mmmm, seems yer enjoying this Master Turner,” Jones said as he lowered his head. “Are you thinking about your bonnie lass? We can’t have that now. I want your undivided attention.” His tongue darted around the stiff muscle, playing with it as a fish would with live bait. He lavished in the way Will writhed beneath his touch, moaning incoherently. “Steady now. I’ve yet to reach the best part.”
Jones pulled away and his tentacles snaked forward to prod elsewhere. They wriggled against the tight opening, sliding into the taut muscle.
Slime coated Will’s insides, allowing the tentacles to probe deeper.
“Ahh!”
“There it be,” Jones said with a smirk. He clawed at Will’s belt and roughly turned him around, bracing against the bed.
Will screamed as something violently stabbed into him. He couldn’t see what was happening and was convinced that it was a giant tentacle laced with a sea urchin’s burs that tore him apart. More tentacles wrapped around his front, undulating around his length, and a dizzying blend of pain and pleasure dueled in his mind.
With each thrust he heard a wet squish and the slap of unseen gills clamoring for moistness. He felt a hard mass prodded and yelled as he came violently onto Jones’ bed. He whimpered for the monster to stop, his head feeling lighter by the second. The barrage went on like cannon fire in the night and he begged for mercy.
After several more minutes, Jones stilled and his tentacles writhed in synchrony. He came into the man, holding tight as saltwater semen burned into a ravaged port. He pushed Will to the side and basked in his bed, licking at the sticky threads that leaked from his tentacles.
Will crawled against the wall, shaky hands buckling his pants back into place. He shivered at the sudden cold and startled at the wall’s shift.
“You did well, boy,” Jones said. “And I believe my ship enjoyed the show as well. Did you know that you father can become part of the ship? I wager he’ll think twice about crossing me now. You may go. Clean yourself up.”
Will winced and staggered to the door. The movement reminded him of another Captain and revenge burned behind his eyes as logic deduced the real reason for Jack’s unusual gait.
Author: Ladyofshadow
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Tentacle sex, non-con
Word count: 1,149
Summary: Will Turner is called to the Captain’s quarters…
Service aboard the Flying Dutchman came at a price.
Once you were aboard the damned ship, living or dead, Davy Jones commanded you, body and soul.
It had been years since Davy Jones last felt flesh between his loins - live flesh that didn’t involve a sea creature or the members of his undead crew. With Will Turner on his ship, the temptation was beyond measure. His crew had been sizing up the tender morsel, but he gave the orders that Will Turner was his and his alone.
“Cap’n, I’ve brought the boy as ordered,” his first mate called outside his quarters.
“Good,” Jones said. “Do show him in.”
Will was shoved into the room and glared at the creature responsible. He was an object of scorn aboard the ship, untouched by death, and that made him a target in the eyes of the crew.
If it wasn’t for his father providing him a safe refuge to sleep, Will doubted that he would have survived even one night below deck in the foul smelling underbelly.
“What do you want, Jones?”
“That’s Captain, to you boy,” he replied, pursing his lips to regard the young man with a smug smack of his lips.
“Captain, then,” Will said. The floorboards trembled when the door slammed behind him. “What do you want?”
“Come now, young Master Turner, to be invited to the Captain’s quarters is an honor not many of the crew gets to experience,” he stood and took heavy, measured steps toward the man before he stopped. “Right now, you are my honored guest.”
“An honored guest a whiplash away from irons,” Will responded sharply.
Will stepped back and assessed the room, hoping to find another exit. He assumed this was the merely the Captain’s office, but it appeared to be his private accommodations as well. Shredded seaweed lined a bed coated in brine, with puddle of seawater at its center. The ocean clung to every orifice in the room and he wrinkled his nose when the Captain approached. He stunk like fermented kelp left out in the sun for too long.
Jones’ tentacled arm grabbed Will’s wrist and pulled him closer. He breathed in Will’s youthful scent before spewing soggy pipe tobacco breath in a half-laugh.
Will nearly gagged at the stench and pulled at the squid-like appendages, trying to free his wrist. Slime coated his effort and he went to reach for Jones’s belt, intent on relieving him of his cutlass. A heavy blow to his gut deterred his efforts and his vision blackened. The offending claw ripped at his shirt, exposing his bare skin to Jones.
Tentacles from Jones’ throat attached to his face, pulsing around his cheeks. His knees buckled when Jones leaned in closer. Will turned his head, feeling bile rise in his throat as one of the tentacles sought his mouth.
“Stop it!”
“We’ve only naught but started boy,” Jones smirked. He dragged the man over to his bed, pinning him against the seaweed. He closed his eyes and allowed his tentacles to roam down Will’s neck, delighting in the way the man’s smooth skin allowed them to glide lower.
Will growled and fought against the touch. His chest was sticky from the tentacles and they massaged at his muscles. He started to panic as the tentacles undid his belt. “What are you doing?? Stop…gau…”
Jones leered down at him. “You best be silent boy or else I can drown you with this. I bet ye wouldn’t be liking this to suffocate ye down yer throat.”
Spittle gathered at the edge of Will’s mouth as he gagged on the tentacle. He nodded, resisting the urge to bite down. He didn’t want to know what fluid might leak down his throat if he bit down on the tentacles and his chest heaved at the thought. When Jones removed the tentacle he spit out the vile slime.
Jones slapped Will’s face aside and yanked down Will’s pants. He stared at the trembling bit of flesh and wrapped his tentacles around it, coiling around the balls as he would a pair of dice.
Will gasped and arched back, squeezing his eyes shut at the moist grope. The revulsion at the cold touch prevented initial arousal and he bit back a sob. The tentacles suctioned at his skin, coating his length with a fine coat of slime. He tried to think of Elizabeth, but banished her from his thoughts so he wouldn’t sully her image. He then tried to force his mind elsewhere, but his body reacted despite his best efforts for control.
“Mmmm, seems yer enjoying this Master Turner,” Jones said as he lowered his head. “Are you thinking about your bonnie lass? We can’t have that now. I want your undivided attention.” His tongue darted around the stiff muscle, playing with it as a fish would with live bait. He lavished in the way Will writhed beneath his touch, moaning incoherently. “Steady now. I’ve yet to reach the best part.”
Jones pulled away and his tentacles snaked forward to prod elsewhere. They wriggled against the tight opening, sliding into the taut muscle.
Slime coated Will’s insides, allowing the tentacles to probe deeper.
“Ahh!”
“There it be,” Jones said with a smirk. He clawed at Will’s belt and roughly turned him around, bracing against the bed.
Will screamed as something violently stabbed into him. He couldn’t see what was happening and was convinced that it was a giant tentacle laced with a sea urchin’s burs that tore him apart. More tentacles wrapped around his front, undulating around his length, and a dizzying blend of pain and pleasure dueled in his mind.
With each thrust he heard a wet squish and the slap of unseen gills clamoring for moistness. He felt a hard mass prodded and yelled as he came violently onto Jones’ bed. He whimpered for the monster to stop, his head feeling lighter by the second. The barrage went on like cannon fire in the night and he begged for mercy.
After several more minutes, Jones stilled and his tentacles writhed in synchrony. He came into the man, holding tight as saltwater semen burned into a ravaged port. He pushed Will to the side and basked in his bed, licking at the sticky threads that leaked from his tentacles.
Will crawled against the wall, shaky hands buckling his pants back into place. He shivered at the sudden cold and startled at the wall’s shift.
“You did well, boy,” Jones said. “And I believe my ship enjoyed the show as well. Did you know that you father can become part of the ship? I wager he’ll think twice about crossing me now. You may go. Clean yourself up.”
Will winced and staggered to the door. The movement reminded him of another Captain and revenge burned behind his eyes as logic deduced the real reason for Jack’s unusual gait.