Fanfiction: All Your Nights Belong to Me: Chapter 31
Title: All Your Nights Belong to Me
Style: Prose
Genre: Drama
Rating: NC-17
Length: Fic
Pairings: Beckington
Warnings: AU, AWE, Slash, Unanswered Questions, etc…
Authoress: cassiopaya
Characters: James Norrington and Cutler Beckett with a supporting cast.
Word Count: 2030
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Dedication: adam_0oo
Summary: James Norrington is given a choice: he can serve Lord Beckett during the day or he can serve him at night.
Notes: Chapter 31, ladies (and gentlemen?) I give you smut with just a hint of plot. Enjoy.
Fic Index: http://cassiopaya.livejournal.com/61458.html
***
James could see from the prow of the boat rowing him back to land the silhouette of Mr. Mercer waiting for him on the docks. A flutter of anxiety swept through him, he was not late, but perhaps, perhaps… After disembarking from the jolly boat, Mr. Mercer came up to him and said, Lord Beckett quires your immediate attention in his office.” Had Mr. Mercer seen the woman press her note upon him? Had he known James was about to violate the sanctity of Beckett’s office this morning? As they walked towards headquarters, James asked, “What business?” “Urgent business,” Mr. Mercer replied nonchalantly.
The streets were dark now and the only light came from the western sky was azotic pink as the sun had disappeared beyond the lip of the ocean. Shadows took on sinister forms and James was almost glad to enter the lighted interior of the EITC’s executive building. Upstairs, Mr. Mercer held the door open for him and then closed it behind them. Norrington made a leg, as the meeting felt official, and Mr. Mercer took up guarding the door.
Lord Beckett looked positively murderous behind his desk and James kept his face blank and his back straight. “Enlighten me, Admiral, as to how you came to shoot one of my Captains,” Beckett hissed at him from behind clenched teeth. James immediately relaxed; here was something he could explain without stammering through a lie. “Joshua Hopkins is not fit to be a Captain in this fleet, Sir. After showing me a monstrous display of insubordination without merit and refusing to retreat from such hostility I felt it necessary to remove him from command immediately.”
Beckett drummed his fingers atop his desk, considering those words. “You found it necessary to shoot him when a simple piece of paperwork would have done the same?” James was amused, “Sir, knowing bureaucracies as I have in the past, the paperwork is merely a suggestion, not an order, and would have taken far more time then is prudent. A man must not let maliciousness fester in his subordinates least it contaminate the entire fleet.”
Beckett’s breath flared out his nostrils, “You are never to do such a thing again, do you understand me? You have disrupted my schedules and my profits. You have damaged company property in the process. I paid good money for Hopkins and now he is useless to me because of you.”
James felt righteous indignation sweet through him and standing a little taller and spitting out his words in his “God damn you” tone of voice he informed Beckett: “Because of me you will have a well disciplined fleet that will instill fear in the hearts of pirates and respect in the hearts of honest men. I will not be flagrantly disrespected in front of the men without correcting that behavior immediately. You say you paid for Hopkins? Let me tell you, the man is nothing more that a troublesome little-” here Norrington took a breath to regain himself and continued “-that man is nothing but trouble and I would not have paid a half penny for him. Consider me as your savior from further financial loss by removing him as an impediment to your profits.”
“Where are Hopkins’ papers?” Beckett demanded. James was so startled out of his rant that his look of confusion was genuine as he said, “What?” “Hopkins’ papers, damn you! Where are they?!” Beckett had yelled and slammed his palms flat on his desk as he shot up from his chair. James blinked, “The logs and mission are on the Raven, presently in the holding of her Master and Commander, lately First Lt. Jordan.” Beckett had come around his desk and pressed himself in Norrington’s space as the Admiral turned to face him. Squinting eyes glared up into James’ face as Beckett chewed on his lip in frustration. Norrington kept his face carefully blank. “I do believe you are concealing some from me,” Beckett insinuated. Norrington narrowed his eyes as he looked down at Beckett and the words that came to mind were perfectly suited to his own charade. “Lord Beckett, I am beginning to come under the suspicion that you are hiding things from me.”
Beckett blanched and flinched, thinking he had played his hand too far, but still had the nagging sensation that Norrington knew exactly what he was talking about. The lack of any evidence of deceit in his face, voice, and manner troubled Beckett the most and it meant that either way he could not be certain whether or not the Admiral knew what was intended to be sub-rosa.
“What was that you mentioned about correcting flagrant disrespect, James?” This sudden shift in topic unbalanced him and he responded naturally, ‘It must be dealt with immediately, Sir.” “Yes, how right you are, James. Is it not the custom of the Navy that junior officers are caned for petty offenses?” Beckett asked. “Yes, Lord Beckett, Midshipmen and ship’s boys are routinely caned.” “How often were you caned?” “Rarely,” Norrington answered. “I do not believe you were punished enough, James, or else you would have thought twice before questioning me.” ‘Lord Beckett, you cannot mean to take a cane to me, the privilege of my rank prohibits it,” James regarded Beckett’s threat as empty, but it was not. “your privilege of rank ended when the last bit of twilight receded into the West. You belong to me.”
James flinched and the color left his face. “You cannot be serious!” “Oh, but I am,” Beckett said as he moved back behind his desk, “My dear Mr. Mercer shall have the privilege of punishing you. He is very good at what he does.” Beckett knew exactly how good Mr. Mercer was as he had received such punishments from the man as a youth.
Dumbfounded, James stood there as Mr. Mercer too hat and remo9ved his coat. When the man began to unbutton his waistcoat Norrington could not stand the indignity of it and slapped the clerk’s hand away, growling, “I will do it myself.” He still could not believe this was happening to him, but he would be damned if he let the pompous little lord strip his of more of his dignity than was due. Mr. Mercer removed a cane from one of the many high desks littered about the room and bade Norrington to lean over Lord Beckett’s desk.
Pushing down his unlaced breeches and wrenching up his shirt, James bend over the desk to find himself eye level with Cutler Beckett as the man sat composed in his chair, removing a jar from one of the desk’s many drawers. Beckett looked James in the eye and said to his clerk, “Ten strokes, medium-hard, even, and try not to beak any skin.” “Yes, sir.” Mr. mercer responded and tested the strength and flexibility of the cane n this hand. Beckett unscrewed the lid of the jar after setting it on the desk. He unlaced his own breeches before nodding at Mr. Mercer to begin.
A loud crack as the cane impacted his buttocks made James flinch and the sudden pain of it made his breath hitch in a hint of a whimper. Cutler smiled languorously and stuck his fingers in the jar, slicking them with some type of cream before reaching down to stroke his cock at half mast. Crack and James looked away and closed his eyes. “Look at me, James. I want to see your eyes,” Beckett said as he slicked his hand up and down, up and down. Crack and James forced himself to look up, to look Cutler Beckett in the eye, to show his defiance snapping in his eyes even as his body flinched and mouth released breathy little sobs. Crack and Beckett wet his lips as he watched the sweat bead up on Norrington’s forehead. Another crack and it was halfway over and the first bead of sweat was trickling down James’ face. Beckett’s cock was rigid as he imagined other places James might be dripping with sweat. Crack. The defiance was starting to leak out of James’ eyes as Mr. Mercer was going over flesh that had already begun to welt. Crack. Jams had to grip the desk white-knuckled in the fear that me might fall and he grimaced at the thought. Crack and Cutler thought James looked as though he were shuddering against the desk, as though Mr. Mercer was penetrating him. Crack and James cried out and Cutler squeezed his cock harder, panting at the spectacle. Crack, the final blow, and James groaned and lay lip upon the desk as if he had climaxed.
Beckett got up from his desk, his slick cock bobbing, and came to see his clerk’s handiwork. “Dear God,” Cutler said aloud as he admired the red, swollen, welted buttocks without a single break in the skin. He brought his palm to one of James’ buttock and felt the heat rising off it before his hand made contact. Norrington made a low whine in his throat and suddenly Beckett was yanking his breeches further down and parting his legs with his knees. “Oh, please,” James started to whine, but was stopped short as Beckett gripped his buttocks in both hands and sent his cock hunting for purchase. James wailed at the grip on his abused flesh and cutler panted behind him, the slick head of his cock pressing against James’ entrance.
“Oh God, oh God,” Beckett chanted under his breath and finally let go to poke his slick digit against James’ puckered hole. Norrington whimpered when the finger slicked inside him and sobbed when it was followed by the tip of Beckett’s prick breaching him. “Oh yes, oh yes,” Beckett began chanting as his slick cock pressed deeply into Norrington’s hot arse and his rhythm was short and tight. James tried to move away from him, so that his hips would not press against his buttocks, but Beckett gripped him harder and pulled him back sharply. Changing the angle of his penetration, Cutler made James cry out as he hit the other man’s sweet spot. Beckett fucked him fiercely, in earnest, his own climax looming as James was just beginning to rouse from the assault on his sweet spot. Grunting and jerking, Beckett came and thrust until he was empty and his cock lost some of its rigidity.
He withdrew from James and Mr. Mercer was there with tissue to wipe off his master’s cock and hands. Ass and cock aching, James lay against the desk panting little sobs, he was utterly confused. What was happening to him? And then Beckett came around the desk again, laced up and looking as though nothing had happened. Only his smoky grey eyes and ruddy cheeks gave him away. He threw down some unused tissue on the desk and informed Norrington, “Clean yourself up and get out. I have work to do.” James was shocked and humiliated. He picked up the tissue with a shaking hand and wiped his arse with whimpers held in by teeth biting his lower lip. Beckett screwed the lid back onto his jar and replaced it in the drawer. As James pulled up his breeches and tucked his shirt it, awkwardly fumbling with his half hard cock, Mr. Mercer approached with his waistcoat, coat, and hat. It seems Beckett was intent on ignoring James and he brought out a stack of paper from one of his locked drawers and began perusing them. Dressed, but still shaking, Norrington was let out of the room by Mr. Mercer and walked slowly in a daze towards the red room.
Once inside the room with the door shut behind him, James burst into tears. Not for the beating or the fucking, but for the careless disgust Beckett had showed him afterward. Norrington undressed without any real concern for where his shoes or greatcoat ended up on the floor and then he crawled quietly into bed as the tears streamed down his face. He lay on his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow. Underneath the shame he was angry at his stubborn cock for still being a little hard.