Title: Forging a Relationship
Author: Hellborne (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Summary: It's been eleven years since Will's death. Jack captures a whole new blacksmith...or does he?
Copyright: Characters, not mine, See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.
Beta: The greatest, most humble, modest, and oh so magnificent BetaGoddess, Pendragginink! I can't say enough wonderful things about you!!!
A/N: This was created for the Jack/Will Ficathon II for indigo17. The requirements were these: "Requests: BDSM and non-con (coz i'm twisted, lol!) Restrictions: not less than NC-17 and no Dom!Will."
Typing convention. / is used for thoughts.
NOTE: Please let me know how I did. After the almost total lack of reviews for Kokopelli's Flute, I'm beginning to think I suck.
The mainmast of the King's Odyssey finally gave way and the pirates cheered. It didn't take long to disarm the sailors of the other ship and round up any passengers and crew that had stayed below deck. The captain stood proud and tall as the far shorter pirate captain approached him. "We have no valuables for you to take, pirate. You have read the manifest yourself and know this."
"Aye, I have, and ye do have some cargo that we sorely need. We'll be taking a quarter of your food, and I'm looking for two men. I need a doctor and a blacksmith. But just to be fair to them wot comes with us, each shall receive a full share and can be dropped at his choice of destination once he's been replaced. Now, captain, please identify your doctor, or I'll have no choice but to call him out myself." The smaller man brandished a dagger. An elderly man from the crew stepped forward. "I am the doctor on this ship, but I'll not work on a pirate ship. There are wounded here for me to tend to thanks to you."
"Doctor, you're lucky that I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. I'm a reasonable man, unlike many of the Brethren. Tend all of the wounded on the Odyssey first. Then you come with us on the Pearl and I swear on pain of death we shall not attack ship nor port till after you've left our company."
"And if I don't go with you?"
"Burial at sea, mate. Sorry. Can't go ruin my reputation completely, can I?" He grinned. "So, what'll it be, eh?"
"Off with ye then. Your wounded await." He turned to the much larger captain again. "Now, about the other man I need."
The captain stayed silent.
"Come come, my good captain. I see the workmanship of your repairs. You have a blacksmith onboard, and a master at that. Maybe one of the passengers?" He looked over the dozen passengers and took hold of a young, brown-haired girl. "Perhaps this is your blacksmith? Pretty little blacksmith. Or do ye think she'd be better polishin' the Captain's brass?" Jack leered at the girl, who stomped on his foot. He picked her up in order to hold on to her and not get injured further.
"I am a blacksmith." The man stepped forward. Standing six feet five inches tall, the deep-voiced man looked down at Jack. "Put Sabrina down and I'll come peacefully. I'm not afraid to go with you, Sparrow."
Jack put the little girl down. She kicked him in the shin and ran. Jack's face turned red as he tried to ignore the pain. "That's CAPTAIN Sparrow, mate. Grab your effects and head over to the Pearl then, and the quartermaster will show you what needs fixing first."
"And how am I to fix anything without a forge?"
"There's a forge of sorts on the Pearl, though it hasn't been used in years. It's even got the tools you'll need if you're missing any. Our last blacksmith was one who loved his tools." /And I loved his tool too./
As the large man went to get his belongings, Jack watched him go. Long, brown, curly hair falling loose over his shoulders, brown eyes with long eyelashes worthy of the most expensive whore, and a torso that Jack couldn't wait to see without its covering.
A man of his word, the Pearl cast off only after the last of the King's Odyssey's wounded had been tended properly, and some of the men from the Pearl even helped to fix the mainmast so that the ship could sail.
* - * - *
Jack watched the blacksmith work, pounding the glowing iron and glistening with sweat, shirtless. Jack watched his great muscles ripple to every movement, his sweat-drenched breeches showing every contour of his hips and bum. The old pirate licked his lips at the prospect of getting into those breeches as he strode down the stairs and across to the foredeck. "You! Blacksmith! Stop what you're doing and come to my cabin. I need to discuss something with you."
The large man grunted and put down what he was working on. He walked down the steps, passing Jack and going into the great cabin, Jack trotting to keep up with him.
The man stood in the middle of the room next to the great table. Jack walked around him appraisingly, and sat in his chair at the head of the table. "Sit down." The man sat in the chair that was next to him. "What's your name? We haven't had time to get acquainted and I like t'know me crew."
"My name? Smith. And I doubt that we'll have time to `get acquainted,' as you have a lot to be fixed here and I hope to be quit of you as soon as possible. So if you will excuse me..." He stood to leave.
"Not so fast, Smith. Ye look hot. Have a drink." He stood, took a large jug and a tankard from the desk and brought them to Smith, pouring some of the clear liquid and handing him the tankard.
"I don't drink."
"This is water, luv. Fresh. Just picked it up yesterday."
Smith sniffed the tankard suspiciously and took a tentative sip, then drained it quickly. Jack refilled it, watching the way Smith's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed the cool liquid. Smith drank four tankards before putting it on the table. "How do you keep it so cool?"
Jack grinned. "I keep a gallon jug filled at all times and hang it off the ship. The deeper I hang it, the colder the water." He pointed over at several thin ropes tied to a pole and hanging out the rear porthole. "I keep a lot of things cool that way. Tell ye what, it's almost lunchtime. Stay here and eat with me. It gets rather lonely eating with no one to converse with."
"I'm not known for my conversation skills."
"No matter. I've other questions for ye, and I'm sure a good meal will loosen your tongue properly." Jack walked to the door, opened it, and spoke quietly to someone outside.
As Jack lifted another jug through the porthole, two men entered with trays laden with food, laid it all out on the table, and left. If the smell was any indication, the food was freshly cooked. Hot bread and whole roasted chicken, with butter and various jams in attendance, and fresh fruit and clotted cream for dessert. Jack walked back with the new jug and another tankard, which he filled with some white liquid from the jug. "Dig in, eh? A man in your profession needs plenty of food." The men both began eating.
Smith held the chicken's leg and sliced it neatly off with his knife. He made a lengthwise cut, removing first the skin, then taking the meat off the bone. Finally, he removed the large vein running through the leg along with all the fat and gristle, then ate the meat almost daintily.
Watching this display reminded Jack of something from long before, but he just couldn't remember. He kept watching as they spoke, trying to get a fix on the memory. "So what takes you away from England, Smith? A fine, upstanding-looking craftsman such as yourself shouldn't have trouble finding work."
"My wife died, and since she was our reason for being there, I took my daughter and left. I'll meet up with her again in Nassau."
"So that little girl was yours?"
"Why didn't you bring her along? She'd ha' been safe enough."
"I'd rather she wasn't around pirates."
"I've had experience with pirates before." He started dissecting the wings the same way he had the legs.
The more Jack watched, the more familiar it was, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. "So how long have ye been a blacksmith?"
"I started my apprenticeship when I was ten. I've been a master blacksmith for the last eight years. I'm 30 years old now."
"Aye, ye look like you've been at it for quite some time." His eyes roamed Smith's muscles appreciatively.
"So, Captain Sparrow. What keeps you pirating at your age? I would have thought that you would have retired a rich man by now by the stories I've read. I mean, you're what, fifty years old?"
"Fifty-two. Aye, but I can't retire. Ye might say I'm doin' penance for gettin' me best mate killed. So I'll be a pirate till I die, whether that be by sword, pistol, or noose." Jack rose, walking around the table, stopping behind Smith.
Jack put his hands gently on the blacksmith's shoulders, which caused the younger man to stand and twirl around. "I'll have none of that, Captain! I'll do your smith work, but I'm no cabin boy for your amusement!"
"Fine then." He walked around the table and sat back down in his chair. "Can't blame an old pirate for tryin'. Especially with you bein' such a fine, strapping man."
"As I've said, I've had experience with pirates before."
Smith finished his chicken in that same manner, which was tickling Jack's memory painfully. "Have we eaten together before? The way you pick through that bird reminds me of something, but at my age I can't put me finger on it." He picked up his tankard and drained it, frowning. He wiped the excess white liquid from his mustache, looking relieved.
"I would remember if we had." Smith finished his food and excused himself.
As Jack watched him leave, he had the beginnings of a plan forming in his head.
* - * - *
It was close to midnight; Jack waited until the off-watch had finally bedded down for the night before silently making his way to the forge area. Smith had slung a hammock from the foremast and the rail right next to the forge and was sleeping soundly. Jack put a pistol to the sleeping man's head and put his other hand over Smith's mouth. "Not a peep, love. Now slowly make your way to my cabin, and don't do anything stupid. I don't want to be short another blacksmith."
The large man carefully got out of his hammock and walked shirtless and barefoot to Jack's quarters. Jack motioned him to the bed. Smith lay on the center of the bed, and Jack tossed him a pair of manacles. "Put those on." When he heard the lock click shut on each one, he moved closer, took the chain between them and locked it to a loop at the head of the bed. "Now move down till you're stretching." Smith scooted toward the foot of the bed, stopping only when the chain went taut.
Jack climbed onto the bed, still holding the pistol. "Now we can do this one of two ways, love. I can get those breeches off you without you fighting me, or I tie your feet down and cut them off. Either way, I win. But I must warn you, unless you have extra breeches of your own, I wouldn't want to fight if I were you, savvy?"
Smith nodded. "I savvy, captain. Just take them and be done with it. Just one question though, captain. I'd thought that you would be three sheets to the wind, but here you are, acting stone sober. How?"
Jack's face fell. "I had to give up all kinds of drinking a few years ago. It was causing too much pain in my belly. Same with food; nothing too spicy anymore. I've even got a cow in the hold so that I can sleep without my belly burning me up. Ye may have noticed that I had milk with lunch. But if you'd like some rum, I'll be happy to oblige you. Perhaps you'd be a mite friendlier, if you take my meaning."
Jack shrugged and removed Smith's breeches, whistling at what he saw, his eyes wide. Even completely limp, Jack could tell that the man was gifted. He felt himself grow hard at the thought of what he planned to do with it. "I'm goin' to put this pistol down now, so I hope you don't do anything stupid." With that, he laid the pistol on the side table, out of reach of the bound man's hands.
He climbed onto the bed and lay down next to Smith, leaning over him and kissing his throat. "You are a beautiful man, and I want you to feel at home here." He suckled the blacksmith's Adam's apple finally leaving a mark before moving downward, trailing soft kisses as he went. "You're too beautiful to go free, love." His tongue flicked across Smith's nipple.
The bound giant beneath him pulled at his bonds and quietly cursed Jack, but the little nub that Jack started blowing on hardened, giving Smith's flaccid manhood a twitch of life. Jack grinned and began suckling in earnest. It didn't take long for Smith's member to become fully hard, even though Jack hadn't touched it yet. Smith moaned as Jack allowed his fingers to gently trace along the sensitive vein on the underside of Smith's length.
The big man suddenly lashed out with both legs, pinning Jack's neck between them and squeezing. "Let me go, Sparrow, or I swear I'll break your neck."
Jack stopped fighting to conserve his air, and quietly reached below the quilt next to his hand. Smith felt something wedge between his arse cheeks accompanied by a very distinctive click. He slowly spread his legs and Jack sat back, carefully setting the hammer of the pistol back in place, gasping for breath. "You're strong, love, but I'll wager on a pistol over a man's muscles any time. Now. Relax and don't do anything stupid again. You don't need all your toes to do blacksmith work, love." Jack grabbed two lengths of rope and tied one just above each of Smith's knees. "Lift your legs over your head."
"I intend to once you're in position, love." He cocked the pistol again. "Up." Smith raised his legs and Jack put the pistol down, tying Smith's legs to loops at the corners of the headboard, spreading Smith wide and at the best possible angle. Jack sat back and admired the helpless blacksmith, almost cumming at the sight. He uncocked the pistol and put it back under the quilt.
Smith closed his eyes, helpless to do anything about his predicament, but unwilling to take any pleasure from his captor. Then he felt Jack's mouth engulf his manhood.
Jack took him deep into his throat, swallowing over and over again, massaging his member with his throat muscles, bobbing his head up once in a while to breathe and lick around the huge crown. It wasn't long before his captive was mewling and moaning with lust. Jack stopped suddenly and sat back again.
Smith's eyes were still closed, but his face was one of pure ecstasy, the tip of his tongue peeking out of his mouth. Jack licked his lips, his manhood twitching. "Oh, I've GOT to have you!" He reached into the drawer in the side table and pulled out a small, dusty bottle of oil, pulled out the cork and poured a generous amount on his manhood, rubbing it around with his fingers, coating them as well. He crawled up, positioning himself near the widely spread entrance, but pressing a finger inside his captive instead. Tight heat met his finger, and he moved it in and out, dragging it along Smith's sweet spot. His other hand took hold of Smith's length and started pumping it in rhythm to his other hand. Smith's mouth opened in a perfect "O" as his pleasure built toward its peak.
Jack added a second finger, then quickly a third when the second finger seemed to provide Smith only with pleasure. A few thrusts later and he withdrew his hand completely, replacing it with his rock hard cock without missing a beat. He pushed into the heated depths and almost lost himself, his rhythm faltering completely as he regained his composure. "Gods!" was all he could say. He finally found the here and now again and began plunging his manhood into Smith, hitting his sweet spot again and again, all the while fisting Smith's length in time with his hips. Losing reality once more, he pounded relentlessly into Smith and started spilling, thrusting himself forward to embed his length fully, screaming and sobbing at the same time, Smith himself momentarily forgotten.
As Jack began to scream, Smith opened his eyes, and the incoherent lust he saw in Jack's face was just enough to make him start cumming.
When Jack was finally able to focus again, he grinned and licked the cum up off of Smith's chest and neck. "You're mine, Smith. I'm not lettin' ye go. We'll pick your daughter up and you can know she's safe. But you're mine for eternity."
There was a fire in Jack's eyes that Smith seemed to recognize. "What are you going to do to me?"
Jack retrieved his dagger. "You're the first man I've taken to bed since my lover was killed eleven years ago. You're takin' his place, savvy? So I'm markin' you as mine, just as I did him so long ago." He moved around to get a better angle at Smith's right thigh and brought his dagger to bear. He stopped and blinked. There, on Smith's right thigh, was Jack's own mark. Then he remembered the way Smith ate the chicken. His eyes widened as he looked at the huge man trussed up before him. "Will? Will Turner?" He cut the bonds holding the blacksmith's legs. "It can't be true. Will Turner was killed by Captain LeMorte eleven years ago!@ I saw him die!" Jack was sobbing freely now.
The man lowered his legs. "Will Turner did die back then, Jack. You saw them weight him down and throw him over the side."
"But what no one saw was that Michael, the man LaMorte had tie the weights on slipped me a small knife. In thanks, I stowed away on LaMorte's ship giving Michael favors till we made landfall. Little did I know we were heading for England. That's where I met Tess, my wife, and where Sabrina was born. Since Will Turner was a wanted man, I've been Will Smith ever since.
"Why didn't ye send word? And why did ye fight me just now?"
"I didn't send word because I was dead. And as for fighting you tonight...Tess died only two days before we set sail. We buried her and ran to the docks. Besides that, I wanted to see just how much you've changed. You've changed a lot, Jack, and not for the better. I never knew you to take someone by force."
"Nor have I till tonight. But believe me when I say I couldn't help myself. You've grown even more beautiful to me through these years, and I had to have ye." He fumbled in his hair and removed a key, unlocking the manacles, still sobbing. "I'm not ordering you anymore, Will...I'm beggin'. Please stay with me. With you at my side, I can retire a happy, rich old man. Just please don't leave me again."
"And my daughter?"
"Is as beautiful as a string of pearls. We can go wherever ye want and be wealthy."
Will rubbed his wrists and sat up. He took the weeping old pirate in his arms and rocked back and forth, gently cradling him against his chest. "I'll stay with you under one condition."
Jack raised his head. "Anything."
Will kissed Jack on the forehead and grinned. "Take me rough like that more often."
Jack grinned and threw Will onto his back, reaching for the manacles. "Any time!"
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