Chapter Two #3
“Thank you, yes, that would be wonderful.” Captain Martin, whose goodwill had returned with the black coffee coursing through his veins, took a seat on the bench next to me, even offering Domingo a kindly smile. “How are you?”
“Well…” Domingo said, his face lighting up at Dinesh’s question. “Despite being at the crew’s beck and call all day, slinging potatoes, and chopping vegetables, I’m doing rather well. You?”
Dinesh rolled his eyes. “At least I didn’t assign you to the upper decks. You don’t have to be up in the weather or climbing the rigging.”
“Yes, that’s mighty kind of you,” Domingo murmured with mock gratitude. “Because God knows that’s the kind of work my previous life prepared me for.”
Dinesh grinned and shrugged. He took another sip of coffee. “You never know.”
“Well… I might be good at the job. But I wouldn’t be able to maintain my absolutely ravishing sense of style, now, would I?”
Dinesh inclined his head. “I suppose that’s true.” His gaze drifted over Domingo’s clothing, at least what he could see above the edge of the table across from us. “And what a tragic loss that would be.” His tone was sardonic, but he smiled.
“That would be an absolute tragedy. I love the way you dress, Domingo,” I stated.
Despite an initial distaste for the attractive young man when we’d initially met—I’d assumed him hired for the night by Dinesh for a one-on-one amorous encounter, when what had transpired was more of a two-on-one situation of which I still had fond recollections—Domingo and I had grown close in a platonic way.
“Thank you, Simon,” Domingo said, leaning back and lifting his mug to his lips.
“I see all you blokes are having a right nice time,” said Mr Guthrie, ship’s cook, as he came out of the back room, putting his apron over his clothes and giving us a kindly look.
“Won’t you join us, Guthrie? Or are you too busy?” Dinesh asked.
“I’ll join you for a moment, Dinesh. Domingo, fetch some of the cheese and bread and we’ll have a bit of breakfast.”
“Yes, Mr Guthrie. I was about to do that,” Domingo said, getting up from the bench and giving me a wink.
Mr Guthrie poured himself some coffee and sat across from Dinesh and I.
“Almost there, I hear?” Guthrie asked Dinesh, eyebrows raised.
“Yes, we should be getting close. Hillier’s supposed to meet me on deck in—” Captain Martin retrieved his gold watch from his pocket and flipped the lid. “—ten minutes. I’ll have to eat and run, I’m afraid.”
He tucked the timepiece away.
“Not a worry. Domingo and I have to get to work on dinner preparations.” Guthrie looked at me. “And what are you up to today, Simon?”
I frowned as I recalled what I’d promised Captain Martin, and rested my chin in my hand. “I have an appointment with a large mop stick in the captain’s chambers.”
Dinesh laughed. “You make that sound like an assignation. I’m almost jealous.”
“Har har. Very amusing. However, if I were to stick any sort of household item up my arse, it wouldn’t be the mop stick.” I shot him a look of disbelief. “Good God, man, think of the splinters!”
Captain Martin almost choked on his coffee, and Guthrie grinned with amusement.
“Never a dull moment with you aboard, young Simon.”
“I should think not. I’d like to imagine I bring some levity to you lot. I recall how dull the place was upon my arrival.”
This was not exactly the truth. However, I believed I had added a certain joviality and lightness to the Arrow and her crew, once I’d gotten comfortable in my position as captain’s houseboy-slash-right-hand man-slash-lover.
Domingo returned to the table with a plate holding a large loaf of brown bread and several pieces of cheese.
“Here we are. I scraped the mould off and everything,” he said, picking up a square of cheese and popping the morsel into his mouth.
“Lies. All lies. There’s no mould in my galley.” Guthrie said with a sidelined glance at Domingo, who covered his mouth as he chewed.
“Oh, I forgot, I’m not supposed to mention the mould.”
Guthrie laughed as Domingo nudged him with a shoulder.
The two had become fast friends, which was a good thing, seeing as they shared the galley and the room behind.
Domingo had initially complained about having to share a sleeping space with Mr Guthrie, but after being shown the crew quarters—a great room in the hull with hammocks hung all about, a few bunks, and absolutely no privacy, he’d decided the situation would do.
At least he had a bed to himself, three meals a day, and no requirement to sell his body for wages.
Working in the Arrow’s galley was a step up and Domingo knew that.
Captain Martin finished his coffee, tore a piece of bread from the loaf and scooped up some cheese. “I’m off, then. Rooster, I may have some time after lunch if you’d like to—” He glanced at the others, then returned his gaze to me as his cheeks reddened. “—ah, meet me in our rooms for a…debrief.”
I nodded. “A debrief. Of course. I’m always available for ship’s business.”
“Excellent.”
He touched his forehead in a salute to the others. “Good day.”
“Good day, Captain,” Guthrie said.
Domingo smiled and watched him go, then turned to me.
“I’ve heard a right tupping called many things, but never that.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up.”
***
The debrief to which Captain Martin had referred involved a delicious and deserved hiding over his lap, after which he sent me to my knees to bring him off with my mouth, then tied my limbs to the bedposts to spend long minutes teasing me with various implements before fucking me and leaving me covered with his spunk.
A typical afternoon for us.
As I lay there, engorged once again, and splattered with milky fluid, Dinesh gazed upon me with satisfaction.
“Now that’s how I’d like to keep you for the rest of the afternoon. Besmirched and desperate.”
“No, no, please...” I whined, struggling and wiggling. “Can’t you use your hand? I’ll do anything you want…”
He cocked his head, considering. “Will you? Anything?”
I blinked. He was a cagey fuck.
“Well…anything…within reason?”
“Not good enough,” he said, pulling on his pants and acting like he was finished with me. He’d never left me in ropes for a whole afternoon, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t.
“All right, all right.” I closed my eyes and prayed he wouldn’t make me do anything very difficult or distasteful. “Anything. I’ll do anything. Only please…please help me to finish.”
He grabbed his shirt and pulled the garment over his head.
“Or let me do the job myself.”
He sat on the edge of the mattress and I batted my eyes at him.
“Hmm. Now there’s an idea,” he said, eyeing my prick and licking his lips.
He leaned down, took my chin in his hand and kissed me soundly, shoving his tongue inside my mouth to assert his dominance. I didn’t mind. Especially when he gave my cock a few strokes to tease me further.
He let go, broke the kiss, and leaned over me to untie my left hand from the bedpost. Then he sat back.
“All right. Have at it.”
I stared at him with wide eyes.
“But…but that’s my left hand.”
He grinned. “So it is.”
“I’m right-handed.”
“Yes, I know.”
I huffed. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“I’m sure you can do the job,” he said, leaning back against the pillows and regarding me with bemused affection.
I gazed at my cock, arching over my belly and leaking at the tip. Probably wouldn’t take a moment, but achieving the desired result would be more difficult with my non-dominant hand. This was all I was going to get apparently.
“Fine,” I said. I presented my left palm to him. “Will you at least give me some spit to work with?”
“Oh, with pleasure.”
He worked up some saliva, cupped my hand in his, and deposited a glob of shiny fluid there. He let go of me and made himself comfortable again.
With some annoyance I took hold of myself and began an awkward stroking motion that served to inflame me and get me close. But my rhythm was jerkier than I was used to, and the job took longer than usual.
Captain Martin watched with satisfaction as I struggled and gasped, gasped and struggled, and finally spurted semen all over myself in paroxysms of exhausted joy.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I groaned, climaxing at long last. Ecstasy turned to boneless ease, and I sank back against the sheets. “Fuck.”
“There’s a good lad. Well done.”
I looked at Captain Martin with what I hoped he saw as annoyance, even though I was so happy to have been allowed to achieve completion, my irritation might not have conveyed properly.
Dinesh was a man who delighted in seeing me frustrated and pent up for days on end, until he permitted me release, so I felt luckier than normal, even though the situation had been less than ideal.
And now I knew I could use my left hand to strip off if I needed to. Win, win.
“I need to get back to my duties,” he said, preparing to stand.
“Oh, excuse me, I seem to have gotten into a bit of a pickle,” I said, glancing down at myself and back at him with expectation.
“Ah, yes, I see that.” He clicked his tongue. “What an astonishing amount of spunk.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Oh,” he said, comprehension dawning. He got up and took a cloth, wet it in the washbasin, rang the water out, and tossed the rag onto my stomach. “There you go.”
“The ropes, Dinesh. If you want me to clean your fucking cabin before we make landfall, you need to untie me.”
He stared at me and then burst out a laugh.
“You know, I did almost forget. You look so lovely tied up on my bed, covered with our combined essence, I should love to leave you right where you are.”
“I’m sure.”
He came closer and bent to untie my right wrist and then my ankles.
“However, I do have work to do. And so do you as you mentioned.”
He tickled the soles of my feet as he released me from my bonds. “I’m hoping that our time spent in Talamanca will be a much-needed respite.”
I grabbed the cloth and started to wipe the spunk from my belly, but he took my wrist and stopped me, bending to lap some of the fluid with his talented tongue whilst gazing at me with an intensity that took my breath away.
He made a sound low in his throat as he closed his eyes to savour the taste.
Then he watched me as I swiped the cloth over myself.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Nothing is the matter. Everything is splendid. I’m the luckiest man alive, Rooster. Imagine having you all to myself to do with as I please.”
“Imagine,” I said, with sardonic emphasis, but then stuck out my tongue at him and grinned with delight. “At your service, captain. As ever I was.”