The Hidden Storm, Part Four- RPS, NC-17
Fandom: RPS
Title: The Hidden Storm (a thejealoussea story), Part Four
Pairing, Characters: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, Gerard Butler
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3485
Summary: Captain Christian Kane is a feared pirate, a violent man with tastes for things the society around him can not condone. One of these things is Master Steven Carlson. When Steven betrays him, Christian punishes him severely, reminding Steven who he belongs to, and maybe, when Steven breaks and gives in, just maybe, the pirate has been satisfied.
Warnings: Dub-con/Non-con. Pain, chains, whips, rough handling, humiliation. There is sadism and masochism here.
A/Ns: For starters, this is the fault of havenward who started this on Twitter, then took it to comment_fic, where she kept posting prompts until this became...something more. This is only a beginning. We are inviting others to play in this world. The community thejealoussea will be our playground. So start thinking about it now...the world is wide open, nobility, pirates, merchants, peasants, sailors, and you can cast anyone you like in any role that seems fitting, fictional characters or RPS/RPF allowed!
Time has stopped moving. Steven's eyes hold to the wooden deck below him, because if he looks up, if he sees them and the way they look at his naked, abused body, he might not hold to his resolve.
The open wounds sting and burn with the heavy salt air. Tears no longer run down his face, because he understands. He hasn't been killed, thrown overboard, given to the men. Christian may know he had a part in whatever happened, but he isn't holding Steven solely responsible.
There may even be a chance for forgiveness. Maybe.
He drifts, but doesn't sleep. It is far too cold, far too humiliating like this. He closes his eyes and remembers the beating. It was brutal, vicious. He will bear the marks for days, weeks even. It warms him from within, the heat of the lash on skin, the feeling of belonging. It shouldn't, but it arouses him, even here like this.
A calloused hand closes around his cock and Steven's eyes open. "This for me, boy?"
Steven opens his mouth to say something, but the man only uses the moment to stick his tongue in Steven's mouth. Steven tries to pull back, but there is no where for him to go. The pirate's hand moves over him, stroking him.
"Why should the captain get all the pretty?"
"Because he's the captain." The man's head jerks back and he's dragged back and away. There's a fist in his hair, the captain's first mate holding the man and forcing him to his knees.
"What's this?" The captain appears, looking rumpled and grumpy. His eyes flick over Steven, then to the man on his knees, and lastly up to his first mate. "Gerry?"
"Caught him going at yer boy, cap'n."
Christian squats next to him. "That true?"
The man's eyes are still on Steven. "You touch him?" When the man doesn't answer, Christian stands. He moves to Steven and Steven has to force himself not to lean against the ropes to get closer to him. "Did he touch you?"
Steven nods roughly, not looking up at him. "Tell me."
Steven clears his throat, trying to find his voice. "He grabbed my…with his hand…kissed me."
Christian steps back to Gerry. "Get him up. Strip him."
As Gerry and another crew man drag the protesting crewman to his feet, Christian yells to the rest of the ship. "Let this be a lesson to any of you who think my things are yours to play with."
Christian's eyes slide over an offering of weapons that Gerry has ordered up, choosing a long bladed knife. "Which hand?" Christian's voice is calm as he examines the blade. The man is shaking now, naked and shaking as Christian looks up. "Very well, I'll assume it was your right hand. Show it to me."
The man raises his arm slowly and before he has it fully lifting, the blade sings, blood splatters Christian's face and the man's scream bounces off the water, skittering away into dark. Christian uses the man's own shirt to wipe the blade, obviously not finished. He slaps the man's face. "Stay with me, we aren't done."
He squeezes the man's cheeks and looks to Gerry. "Tongue."
Steven wants to look away as Gerry's fingers press into his mouth and pull out his tongue. Wants to, but can't. The knife slices and the man's screams are lost in a gurgle of blood. "These are mine now because they touched what is mine." His hand falls to the man's cock, the blade flashes and he lifts the severed member for all to see. "And this is your payment for the crime."
He looks around them as the man faints, his blood painting the deck. "Get him out of my sight."
Steve can feel his captain's eyes, though he doesn't look up, keeps his eyes on the deck, on the slowly moving pool of blood. If he looks, if he sees Steven's eyes, he will know that Steven needs him, wants him…even now, even after all of this.
For a long time no one moves, then James is there to clean up the blood and the tableau is broken. Christian gestures and waits.
Steven drops to his knees as the ropes are cut. He doesn't look up or around. He knows where his Captain is, can feel his eyes, the heat of his arousal, his need. He knows what it is he wants from Steven.
The others are watching, and Steven knows they despise him, knows that they think him less than the whores they visit when they come to shore, but it doesn't matter.
The only thing that matters is this...the chance to prove himself, to show them who he belongs to, who protects him. His muscles are stiff, achy and sore, but he forces them to move, crawling forward, inch by painful inch over the damp deck until his fingers brush against his boots.
He trembles, leaning forward, brushing his lips over the worn leather, offering his back, already welted and broken, offering his ass, already marked and red.
He feels the hand in his hair, lifts with the pull. The Captain's face is hard, his eyes glittering and dark, but whatever he sees as he looks through Steven must finally be enough for he releases him and pets over his head softly before turning on his heel and stalking toward his cabin, leaving Steven to follow him, crawling after him in the silence.
Steven moves slowly into the cabin, into the alcove in the corner, head bowed. The Captain lets him wait, kneeling there until James comes with water and a cloth, a small meal and a salve. Christian ignores them completely while James sees to him, washing him, salving his wounds and when he is done, he offers Steven the tray.
It isn't until he has finished eating that Christian looks at him, Steven can feel the weight of his eyes. Christian stands, moves around the desk and waits. Steven moves stiffly, still on his knees, still uncertain.
"You belong to me, Steven." Christian says, his voice low.
Steven doesn't speak, only lowers his head in submission.
"You disappoint me."
His hand rests on Steven's head. Steven bites back the sob, the fear of more punishment, the arousal the thought brings. "You are my captain, I...I..."
His hand tightens in Steven's hair and Steven lifts his eyes. "Make it up to your captain, then Steven."
His cock is hard, filling the space between them, and his hand does not ease up. Steven nods, opens his mouth to take him in. It will not be easy or pleasant, but when it is done, there may be a chance to be forgiven. Steven keeps his eyes open, keeps himself focused on the task, opens his throat, sucks at the cock in his mouth. Christian doesn't afford him much in the way of space to perform all the pleasing little things Steven has learned, just takes what he needs and spills himself down Steven's throat.
He steps back, buttoning his pants and Steven waits. "You will sleep there tonight…and until I decide you have earned anything else."
The cabin is quiet, only the sound of water against the ship and the creaking of her wood in the air. Steven lies silent in the bed, his eyes half-lidded and watching Christian at the desk.
He had been brought in from the icy stares of the crew and the harsh bite of the wind, and still Christian had not been gentle. Those first days he slept on the floor in the corner...when he slept. It isn't at all unlike that first time, when Steven was still holding to his dignity, still pretending.
He's given up that need to pretend, because Christian knows him far too well to be deceived by it. Finally, the night had come when Christian had taken him to the bed, taken him in the bed, and let him sleep when they were done. It wasn't forgiveness. But Steven wonders if maybe he'll never really earn that, and perhaps just earning his captain's bed again will have to be enough.
Making a choice, Steven eases out of the bed and goes to his captain's side. Christian doesn't look up from the map he's studying and Steven sinks to his knees beside him, offering up the back of his neck.
After several long minutes, Christian's hand descends, fingers carding through Steven's hair. Steven's eyes close.
The door opens and one of the crew enters, Steven doesn't move, doesn't listen to the conversation, just kneels, reveling in the gentle touch. It is only after the man leaves that Christian's fingers tighten in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging and pulling Steven's face up.
"What am I to do with such a stubborn fool?" Christian muses, but the hard line on his face has eased and the sparkle has returned to his eye and Steven feels hope flare inside him.
"Anything that pleases." Steven offers, keeping his voice soft. "Anything...just..."
An eyebrow lifts and he tugs Steven's head back just a little more. "Are you asking for something?"
"Please..." Steven whispers. "Anything..."
Christian nods. "Ask it."
Steven blinks at tears he didn't expect, after everything to cry now seems...weak. "Don't send me away...please, not yet..."
Christian looks at him, his expression unreadable. "Why should I not?"
Steven swallows, words swimming around inside his head but none of them forming an answer that made sense. Christian smiles and releases his head. "Perhaps I should keep you until you are able to answer me."
His heart thunders and desire sweeps through him. "Please."
Christian turns in his chair, taking Steven's face in both hands. "You betrayed me, Steven. You hate me; I see it in your eyes each time we meet. You would have me dead whenever I walk away from you." His thumbs caress over Steven's chapped lips. "I offer you no cause to love me. I abuse you, I fuck you like a whore and throw you away when I am done with you. I take what is yours as my own, I steal you from your wife, I steal your wife from you. I mark you. I hurt you…and yet here you sit, begging me to keep you a while longer."
He lets go and turns back to his map, ignoring Steven for a long moment. Steven thinks perhaps it is all he will get when Christian clears his throat. "Gerry tells me I should be done with you." He doesn't look up again. "I must admit it would make the men happy to know you were no longer going to be a danger to their lives."
The door opens again, and this time Steven recognizes the voice. "Cap'n, you should see this."
"On my way." Christian stands, pauses, with his hand hovering over Steven's bowed head. "I think he may just be right this time, Steven."
He doesn't move or react, not until the door is closed and he is sure that he is alone, then he curls forward, doubled over, holding his stomach that is slowly twisting inside him. He can't understand this…that they would come this far, that he would surrender everything, only to be cast aside…that he would want this to go on, that he could crave the touch of that man's hand, the feeling of his lash, his knife, his cock. He cannot fathom that it might end, and he might be free…or how that breaks him all the more.
His eyes close against the pain. There is nothing of gentle to be found in this place tonight. There is only fire and salted water poured over welted skin, hot wax and oil and the burn as Christian presses into him, yanking back on the rough rope around his neck, so that Steven can feel each and every fiber against his skin.
"Suffering makes you a stronger man." Steven hears the words in his head, a piece of another time, another place...though with nearly as much pain, bent over a desk not unlike this one, a willow switch in his father's hand.
Steven whines deep in his throat as Christian fills him, pushing him harder against the wood of the desk. "Shut up and take it." Christian growls in his ear. "You know you want it...you beg me for it. I'm giving you exactly what you want."
Steven whimpers, but doesn't pull away, surrenders to the sensations, the burning, the sting, the heat of blood and sweat slicking his skin. He's come twice already and his cock is hard still, aching with the push and pull of every thrust. He arches his back, shoving back into Christian, earning a dark chuckle and a more violent thrust. "See how you want it? See what a slut you've become?"
His words sting, salt in the wounds of his shattered pride, in the ribbons of his shame. Christian's come fills him, his hands slide away, the rope dropped, forgotten. For a long moment Steven can not move, to stand or sink to the floor.
Christian's hand lays on the small of his back, just there. Steven lifts his head, nods to assure him he is fine and pushes himself up. The walk across the cabin is difficult, his body stiff, sore, broken in ways it hasn't been since those first days here with him. Christian's hand guides him to the bed before he is sliding into bed beside Steven, his hot skin pressing to Steven's naked back. Christian's breath slows, evens out and softens.
Steven lies awake, wondering how long it will be now before Christian casts him aside.
His fingers and hands are bruised; the marks of ropes mar his wrists, his ankles, his throat, his thighs. Barely healing cuts crisscross over his back, the pirate's name re-carved in shallow scratches in his skin. He is more wounded than he remembers, more sated, more content. Soon, he thinks, it will be over.
"Why do you hurt me?" Steven's voice is so low, he isn't sure Christian will hear him.
They lie together in the hard bed, the night quiet around them, their bodies warm with the exertion of their last violent act. Sweat cools over his skin, his eyes drift toward closed.
"Why do you let me?" Christian asks just as Steven is sure he will not answer.
There was a time he might have argued that he didn't let any of this happen, that none of it was his choice. He considers how many times it has been his choice, considers how his pulse quickens whenever he catches sight of dark wood and high sails, the way his cock hardens at the first sound of his captain's voice. It is his shame to know the truth about himself, that he would come here willingly, that he offers himself, his body, his soul...his heart to a man who can never give him anything back but this...
Stolen moments, sharp pain, pleasures forbidden on land and in the eyes of God...
Christian's fingers find a wound, a shallow cut not quite done oozing blood and press in. Steven hisses as the pain comes, coursing through him, filling his cock. "Tell me, Steven, why do you let me?"
Steven bites his tongue, holds his breath. Christian rises up, straddling over him now. His kiss is harsh, nipping teeth on Steven's lips, over his chin, down to the abraded nipple that was raw and sore from the repeated slapping of the coarse leather belt.
He bites and Steven arches up under him. "Tell me Steven." Christian says, his voice a low growl.
Steven gasps and thrusts his hips up, looking for some sense of friction and finding none. Christian turns his teeth to the other nipple, biting hard enough that Steven cries out, hands grasping at his pillow to keep from reaching for the pirate.
"I..." He closes his eyes and fights the truth. He can't speak the words, can't admit...
"Tell me." Christian's tongue glides over his collarbone, up the tight cord of muscle running from his shoulder to his neck. His teeth worry over the bruise already there, nipping and fresh pain blossoms there...but it isn't enough...isn't nearly enough.
"Please...I...want...I want it."
Christian grazes the skin with a stubbled chin, adding a burning sting to the deeper pain. "Want what, Steven?"
There's a hand on his cock now, and those teeth, those teeth at his skin. "H-hurt....want you....want you to hurt...me..." The words are still in the air when Christian bites down, his hand jerking Steven's cock at the same time and Steven comes fast and hot over Christian's hand, falling back to the bed panting and shamed.
Christian lays over him, his body weight holding Steven down. "You like the pain, don't you?"
Steven's eyes close and he gives up that last little bit. "Yes. Yes, I like it."
"And no one but me will ever give it to you. Do you know why?"
Steven doesn't even fight. "Because I belong to you."
"Forever, even after I am done with you." Christian leaves him there, dressing and heading out onto the deck, and Steven curls onto his side, aching with the knowledge that Christian would be done with him…and he would never feel this again.
It is early morning. Steven knows without opening his eyes. The seas are calm after days of rough water. His body aches, muscles burn. He has never felt so spent, so wrung out, so completely broken.
He hasn't even the strength to show his shame, burrowing into the blankets and pillow, stretching his naked body against the bed, indulgent.
A warm hand slides down his back, over the marks of the lash and knife, over the round of his ass. Steven opens his eyes, half expecting Christian to have that look in his eyes, the one that said they weren't done, that more pain...and pleasure...were yet to come.
Instead, Christian leans in and presses a kiss to Steven's temple. "Sleep, Steven. It is still early."
Steven blinks in the vague light of the room. "Captain?"
Christian's hand is nearly gentle, soft in it's caress. His face holds none of the anger it's held since Steven betrayed him, the hard edge gone, something else in its place. His hand brushes through Steven's hair, light and tender. "You have given me much. Rest now, I will ask for more later."
Steven isn't certain what to say or do, so he does as he's told, closes his eyes and lets the heavy feeling of his body pull him down again. Christian's hand continued it's gentle journey over his skin, almost like the touch of a lover, a reward perhaps for his surrender, for his admission.
Steven's eyes flutter open as Christian's hand stills, and he blinks, thinking he sees something in his captain's face...something like love, like affection...but he knows better. Steven may have admitted his need for this, his need for him, but the pirate...
"You think too much Master Carlson. Sleep."
The battle is over before Steven is fully aware that there's been one, The Shadow Queen lashed tightly to the side of The Calla Lily. The decks of both ships are bloody when Christian leads him out of the cabin, dressed in the same clothes he'd worn the night they came for him.
Christian takes him to the wheel of the Lily, lashing him to it, ropes around his already rope burned wrists. His kiss is harsh, cold. "This is where I take my leave, Master Carlson." His hand slides down to Steven's thigh, his thumb pressing in on that place where he was marked. "My scouts put a navy ship moving at a good clip in our direction. They will, no doubt, rescue you before long. I'm taking your crew, your cargo in return for you."
"Captain…please." Steven looks up at him, looks him in the eye.
"Go home to your wife and your baby, Steven. I won't be bothering you again."
"And if I told you I wanted you to?"
Christian smiled and caressed Steven's face. "The thrill for me has always been the chase, Steven. Now that I've caught you, there is nothing left for me to chase."
He doesn't say goodbye, just walks away, leaving him standing there, unable to follow, unable to do anything more than call after him, beg him…but Steven won't do that…not where the others can hear. He listens as the ropes holding the two ships together are severed, water splashing as the dead are cast into the sea, but he refuses to look, to watch The Shadow Queen sail away…or to look for his rescue.
He is alone. He sags against the ropes binding him and sobs tear through him. He will never again feel the pleasure that came with his submission, with the pain. Never again.
Title: The Hidden Storm (a thejealoussea story), Part Four
Pairing, Characters: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, Gerard Butler
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3485
Summary: Captain Christian Kane is a feared pirate, a violent man with tastes for things the society around him can not condone. One of these things is Master Steven Carlson. When Steven betrays him, Christian punishes him severely, reminding Steven who he belongs to, and maybe, when Steven breaks and gives in, just maybe, the pirate has been satisfied.
Warnings: Dub-con/Non-con. Pain, chains, whips, rough handling, humiliation. There is sadism and masochism here.
A/Ns: For starters, this is the fault of havenward who started this on Twitter, then took it to comment_fic, where she kept posting prompts until this became...something more. This is only a beginning. We are inviting others to play in this world. The community thejealoussea will be our playground. So start thinking about it now...the world is wide open, nobility, pirates, merchants, peasants, sailors, and you can cast anyone you like in any role that seems fitting, fictional characters or RPS/RPF allowed!
Time has stopped moving. Steven's eyes hold to the wooden deck below him, because if he looks up, if he sees them and the way they look at his naked, abused body, he might not hold to his resolve.
The open wounds sting and burn with the heavy salt air. Tears no longer run down his face, because he understands. He hasn't been killed, thrown overboard, given to the men. Christian may know he had a part in whatever happened, but he isn't holding Steven solely responsible.
There may even be a chance for forgiveness. Maybe.
He drifts, but doesn't sleep. It is far too cold, far too humiliating like this. He closes his eyes and remembers the beating. It was brutal, vicious. He will bear the marks for days, weeks even. It warms him from within, the heat of the lash on skin, the feeling of belonging. It shouldn't, but it arouses him, even here like this.
A calloused hand closes around his cock and Steven's eyes open. "This for me, boy?"
Steven opens his mouth to say something, but the man only uses the moment to stick his tongue in Steven's mouth. Steven tries to pull back, but there is no where for him to go. The pirate's hand moves over him, stroking him.
"Why should the captain get all the pretty?"
"Because he's the captain." The man's head jerks back and he's dragged back and away. There's a fist in his hair, the captain's first mate holding the man and forcing him to his knees.
"What's this?" The captain appears, looking rumpled and grumpy. His eyes flick over Steven, then to the man on his knees, and lastly up to his first mate. "Gerry?"
"Caught him going at yer boy, cap'n."
Christian squats next to him. "That true?"
The man's eyes are still on Steven. "You touch him?" When the man doesn't answer, Christian stands. He moves to Steven and Steven has to force himself not to lean against the ropes to get closer to him. "Did he touch you?"
Steven nods roughly, not looking up at him. "Tell me."
Steven clears his throat, trying to find his voice. "He grabbed my…with his hand…kissed me."
Christian steps back to Gerry. "Get him up. Strip him."
As Gerry and another crew man drag the protesting crewman to his feet, Christian yells to the rest of the ship. "Let this be a lesson to any of you who think my things are yours to play with."
Christian's eyes slide over an offering of weapons that Gerry has ordered up, choosing a long bladed knife. "Which hand?" Christian's voice is calm as he examines the blade. The man is shaking now, naked and shaking as Christian looks up. "Very well, I'll assume it was your right hand. Show it to me."
The man raises his arm slowly and before he has it fully lifting, the blade sings, blood splatters Christian's face and the man's scream bounces off the water, skittering away into dark. Christian uses the man's own shirt to wipe the blade, obviously not finished. He slaps the man's face. "Stay with me, we aren't done."
He squeezes the man's cheeks and looks to Gerry. "Tongue."
Steven wants to look away as Gerry's fingers press into his mouth and pull out his tongue. Wants to, but can't. The knife slices and the man's screams are lost in a gurgle of blood. "These are mine now because they touched what is mine." His hand falls to the man's cock, the blade flashes and he lifts the severed member for all to see. "And this is your payment for the crime."
He looks around them as the man faints, his blood painting the deck. "Get him out of my sight."
Steve can feel his captain's eyes, though he doesn't look up, keeps his eyes on the deck, on the slowly moving pool of blood. If he looks, if he sees Steven's eyes, he will know that Steven needs him, wants him…even now, even after all of this.
For a long time no one moves, then James is there to clean up the blood and the tableau is broken. Christian gestures and waits.
Steven drops to his knees as the ropes are cut. He doesn't look up or around. He knows where his Captain is, can feel his eyes, the heat of his arousal, his need. He knows what it is he wants from Steven.
The others are watching, and Steven knows they despise him, knows that they think him less than the whores they visit when they come to shore, but it doesn't matter.
The only thing that matters is this...the chance to prove himself, to show them who he belongs to, who protects him. His muscles are stiff, achy and sore, but he forces them to move, crawling forward, inch by painful inch over the damp deck until his fingers brush against his boots.
He trembles, leaning forward, brushing his lips over the worn leather, offering his back, already welted and broken, offering his ass, already marked and red.
He feels the hand in his hair, lifts with the pull. The Captain's face is hard, his eyes glittering and dark, but whatever he sees as he looks through Steven must finally be enough for he releases him and pets over his head softly before turning on his heel and stalking toward his cabin, leaving Steven to follow him, crawling after him in the silence.
Steven moves slowly into the cabin, into the alcove in the corner, head bowed. The Captain lets him wait, kneeling there until James comes with water and a cloth, a small meal and a salve. Christian ignores them completely while James sees to him, washing him, salving his wounds and when he is done, he offers Steven the tray.
It isn't until he has finished eating that Christian looks at him, Steven can feel the weight of his eyes. Christian stands, moves around the desk and waits. Steven moves stiffly, still on his knees, still uncertain.
"You belong to me, Steven." Christian says, his voice low.
Steven doesn't speak, only lowers his head in submission.
"You disappoint me."
His hand rests on Steven's head. Steven bites back the sob, the fear of more punishment, the arousal the thought brings. "You are my captain, I...I..."
His hand tightens in Steven's hair and Steven lifts his eyes. "Make it up to your captain, then Steven."
His cock is hard, filling the space between them, and his hand does not ease up. Steven nods, opens his mouth to take him in. It will not be easy or pleasant, but when it is done, there may be a chance to be forgiven. Steven keeps his eyes open, keeps himself focused on the task, opens his throat, sucks at the cock in his mouth. Christian doesn't afford him much in the way of space to perform all the pleasing little things Steven has learned, just takes what he needs and spills himself down Steven's throat.
He steps back, buttoning his pants and Steven waits. "You will sleep there tonight…and until I decide you have earned anything else."
The cabin is quiet, only the sound of water against the ship and the creaking of her wood in the air. Steven lies silent in the bed, his eyes half-lidded and watching Christian at the desk.
He had been brought in from the icy stares of the crew and the harsh bite of the wind, and still Christian had not been gentle. Those first days he slept on the floor in the corner...when he slept. It isn't at all unlike that first time, when Steven was still holding to his dignity, still pretending.
He's given up that need to pretend, because Christian knows him far too well to be deceived by it. Finally, the night had come when Christian had taken him to the bed, taken him in the bed, and let him sleep when they were done. It wasn't forgiveness. But Steven wonders if maybe he'll never really earn that, and perhaps just earning his captain's bed again will have to be enough.
Making a choice, Steven eases out of the bed and goes to his captain's side. Christian doesn't look up from the map he's studying and Steven sinks to his knees beside him, offering up the back of his neck.
After several long minutes, Christian's hand descends, fingers carding through Steven's hair. Steven's eyes close.
The door opens and one of the crew enters, Steven doesn't move, doesn't listen to the conversation, just kneels, reveling in the gentle touch. It is only after the man leaves that Christian's fingers tighten in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging and pulling Steven's face up.
"What am I to do with such a stubborn fool?" Christian muses, but the hard line on his face has eased and the sparkle has returned to his eye and Steven feels hope flare inside him.
"Anything that pleases." Steven offers, keeping his voice soft. "Anything...just..."
An eyebrow lifts and he tugs Steven's head back just a little more. "Are you asking for something?"
"Please..." Steven whispers. "Anything..."
Christian nods. "Ask it."
Steven blinks at tears he didn't expect, after everything to cry now seems...weak. "Don't send me away...please, not yet..."
Christian looks at him, his expression unreadable. "Why should I not?"
Steven swallows, words swimming around inside his head but none of them forming an answer that made sense. Christian smiles and releases his head. "Perhaps I should keep you until you are able to answer me."
His heart thunders and desire sweeps through him. "Please."
Christian turns in his chair, taking Steven's face in both hands. "You betrayed me, Steven. You hate me; I see it in your eyes each time we meet. You would have me dead whenever I walk away from you." His thumbs caress over Steven's chapped lips. "I offer you no cause to love me. I abuse you, I fuck you like a whore and throw you away when I am done with you. I take what is yours as my own, I steal you from your wife, I steal your wife from you. I mark you. I hurt you…and yet here you sit, begging me to keep you a while longer."
He lets go and turns back to his map, ignoring Steven for a long moment. Steven thinks perhaps it is all he will get when Christian clears his throat. "Gerry tells me I should be done with you." He doesn't look up again. "I must admit it would make the men happy to know you were no longer going to be a danger to their lives."
The door opens again, and this time Steven recognizes the voice. "Cap'n, you should see this."
"On my way." Christian stands, pauses, with his hand hovering over Steven's bowed head. "I think he may just be right this time, Steven."
He doesn't move or react, not until the door is closed and he is sure that he is alone, then he curls forward, doubled over, holding his stomach that is slowly twisting inside him. He can't understand this…that they would come this far, that he would surrender everything, only to be cast aside…that he would want this to go on, that he could crave the touch of that man's hand, the feeling of his lash, his knife, his cock. He cannot fathom that it might end, and he might be free…or how that breaks him all the more.
His eyes close against the pain. There is nothing of gentle to be found in this place tonight. There is only fire and salted water poured over welted skin, hot wax and oil and the burn as Christian presses into him, yanking back on the rough rope around his neck, so that Steven can feel each and every fiber against his skin.
"Suffering makes you a stronger man." Steven hears the words in his head, a piece of another time, another place...though with nearly as much pain, bent over a desk not unlike this one, a willow switch in his father's hand.
Steven whines deep in his throat as Christian fills him, pushing him harder against the wood of the desk. "Shut up and take it." Christian growls in his ear. "You know you want it...you beg me for it. I'm giving you exactly what you want."
Steven whimpers, but doesn't pull away, surrenders to the sensations, the burning, the sting, the heat of blood and sweat slicking his skin. He's come twice already and his cock is hard still, aching with the push and pull of every thrust. He arches his back, shoving back into Christian, earning a dark chuckle and a more violent thrust. "See how you want it? See what a slut you've become?"
His words sting, salt in the wounds of his shattered pride, in the ribbons of his shame. Christian's come fills him, his hands slide away, the rope dropped, forgotten. For a long moment Steven can not move, to stand or sink to the floor.
Christian's hand lays on the small of his back, just there. Steven lifts his head, nods to assure him he is fine and pushes himself up. The walk across the cabin is difficult, his body stiff, sore, broken in ways it hasn't been since those first days here with him. Christian's hand guides him to the bed before he is sliding into bed beside Steven, his hot skin pressing to Steven's naked back. Christian's breath slows, evens out and softens.
Steven lies awake, wondering how long it will be now before Christian casts him aside.
His fingers and hands are bruised; the marks of ropes mar his wrists, his ankles, his throat, his thighs. Barely healing cuts crisscross over his back, the pirate's name re-carved in shallow scratches in his skin. He is more wounded than he remembers, more sated, more content. Soon, he thinks, it will be over.
"Why do you hurt me?" Steven's voice is so low, he isn't sure Christian will hear him.
They lie together in the hard bed, the night quiet around them, their bodies warm with the exertion of their last violent act. Sweat cools over his skin, his eyes drift toward closed.
"Why do you let me?" Christian asks just as Steven is sure he will not answer.
There was a time he might have argued that he didn't let any of this happen, that none of it was his choice. He considers how many times it has been his choice, considers how his pulse quickens whenever he catches sight of dark wood and high sails, the way his cock hardens at the first sound of his captain's voice. It is his shame to know the truth about himself, that he would come here willingly, that he offers himself, his body, his soul...his heart to a man who can never give him anything back but this...
Stolen moments, sharp pain, pleasures forbidden on land and in the eyes of God...
Christian's fingers find a wound, a shallow cut not quite done oozing blood and press in. Steven hisses as the pain comes, coursing through him, filling his cock. "Tell me, Steven, why do you let me?"
Steven bites his tongue, holds his breath. Christian rises up, straddling over him now. His kiss is harsh, nipping teeth on Steven's lips, over his chin, down to the abraded nipple that was raw and sore from the repeated slapping of the coarse leather belt.
He bites and Steven arches up under him. "Tell me Steven." Christian says, his voice a low growl.
Steven gasps and thrusts his hips up, looking for some sense of friction and finding none. Christian turns his teeth to the other nipple, biting hard enough that Steven cries out, hands grasping at his pillow to keep from reaching for the pirate.
"I..." He closes his eyes and fights the truth. He can't speak the words, can't admit...
"Tell me." Christian's tongue glides over his collarbone, up the tight cord of muscle running from his shoulder to his neck. His teeth worry over the bruise already there, nipping and fresh pain blossoms there...but it isn't enough...isn't nearly enough.
"Please...I...want...I want it."
Christian grazes the skin with a stubbled chin, adding a burning sting to the deeper pain. "Want what, Steven?"
There's a hand on his cock now, and those teeth, those teeth at his skin. "H-hurt....want you....want you to hurt...me..." The words are still in the air when Christian bites down, his hand jerking Steven's cock at the same time and Steven comes fast and hot over Christian's hand, falling back to the bed panting and shamed.
Christian lays over him, his body weight holding Steven down. "You like the pain, don't you?"
Steven's eyes close and he gives up that last little bit. "Yes. Yes, I like it."
"And no one but me will ever give it to you. Do you know why?"
Steven doesn't even fight. "Because I belong to you."
"Forever, even after I am done with you." Christian leaves him there, dressing and heading out onto the deck, and Steven curls onto his side, aching with the knowledge that Christian would be done with him…and he would never feel this again.
It is early morning. Steven knows without opening his eyes. The seas are calm after days of rough water. His body aches, muscles burn. He has never felt so spent, so wrung out, so completely broken.
He hasn't even the strength to show his shame, burrowing into the blankets and pillow, stretching his naked body against the bed, indulgent.
A warm hand slides down his back, over the marks of the lash and knife, over the round of his ass. Steven opens his eyes, half expecting Christian to have that look in his eyes, the one that said they weren't done, that more pain...and pleasure...were yet to come.
Instead, Christian leans in and presses a kiss to Steven's temple. "Sleep, Steven. It is still early."
Steven blinks in the vague light of the room. "Captain?"
Christian's hand is nearly gentle, soft in it's caress. His face holds none of the anger it's held since Steven betrayed him, the hard edge gone, something else in its place. His hand brushes through Steven's hair, light and tender. "You have given me much. Rest now, I will ask for more later."
Steven isn't certain what to say or do, so he does as he's told, closes his eyes and lets the heavy feeling of his body pull him down again. Christian's hand continued it's gentle journey over his skin, almost like the touch of a lover, a reward perhaps for his surrender, for his admission.
Steven's eyes flutter open as Christian's hand stills, and he blinks, thinking he sees something in his captain's face...something like love, like affection...but he knows better. Steven may have admitted his need for this, his need for him, but the pirate...
"You think too much Master Carlson. Sleep."
The battle is over before Steven is fully aware that there's been one, The Shadow Queen lashed tightly to the side of The Calla Lily. The decks of both ships are bloody when Christian leads him out of the cabin, dressed in the same clothes he'd worn the night they came for him.
Christian takes him to the wheel of the Lily, lashing him to it, ropes around his already rope burned wrists. His kiss is harsh, cold. "This is where I take my leave, Master Carlson." His hand slides down to Steven's thigh, his thumb pressing in on that place where he was marked. "My scouts put a navy ship moving at a good clip in our direction. They will, no doubt, rescue you before long. I'm taking your crew, your cargo in return for you."
"Captain…please." Steven looks up at him, looks him in the eye.
"Go home to your wife and your baby, Steven. I won't be bothering you again."
"And if I told you I wanted you to?"
Christian smiled and caressed Steven's face. "The thrill for me has always been the chase, Steven. Now that I've caught you, there is nothing left for me to chase."
He doesn't say goodbye, just walks away, leaving him standing there, unable to follow, unable to do anything more than call after him, beg him…but Steven won't do that…not where the others can hear. He listens as the ropes holding the two ships together are severed, water splashing as the dead are cast into the sea, but he refuses to look, to watch The Shadow Queen sail away…or to look for his rescue.
He is alone. He sags against the ropes binding him and sobs tear through him. He will never again feel the pleasure that came with his submission, with the pain. Never again.