Chapter Eight
The Marriage Bed
As soon as we climbed out of the skiff, Captain Martin greeted the crew, then held his hands out for Pearl.
“Hand her over,” he said.
“But…I don’t know…” I said, clutching the pup tighter.
The intense and inflamed look in Dinesh’s gaze convinced me.
I passed the puppy over. I trusted Squid, after all, and I was eager for the chance to start our marriage off right, even if our union wasn’t legal in any way. Nothing we did was legal, so what did that matter?
“Here. She gets two meals a day, please get something from Guthrie for her. She likes fish,” I said, increasing the volume of my voice as Dinesh tugged me in the direction of our rooms.
“Hillier remains in charge,” Captain Martin said with volume, glancing behind us. “Do not disturb me for the next three days if you value your life’s blood.”
I shrugged and smiled at the crew, who didn’t seem to take that threat seriously as they made rude remarks and laughed at the spectacle of two randy bridegrooms heading to the wedding chamber.
“For God’s sake, someone check on me each morning,” I shouted as he pulled me along behind him. “He’s got devilry in his eyes!”
I couldn’t make out what the responses were as I was pulled down the steps to the next level. Dinesh tugged me hard enough to swing me in front of him, then deliver a hard smack to my behind.
“I’ve got it everywhere else as well.”
“Fuck me.”
“Yes, that’s the plan.”
We found our chambers in immaculate condition. Someone, Squid presumably, or perhaps Domingo, had dusted and changed the bed sheets.
Captain Martin stood me at the foot of the bed and began removing my clothes.
“Wait. I need to use the privy,” I protested.
“Once you’re naked, I’ll fetch you the chamber pot.”
“But…you want me to piss in front of you?”
He gave me a wicked smile.
“Jesus. Does everything excite you?” I asked in incredulous tones.
“Everything about you. Yes.”
“Well…all right.”
He dispensed with my jacket and shirt, tugged my trousers down and off, then untied the string on my drawers and removed them as I lifted one leg and then the other, balancing with a hand on the bedpost.
“Oh, Rooster. You’re such an innocent in some ways. Nothing wrong with a bit of clean piss between lovers.”
My chin dropped. “I…what?”
He shrugged. “One of these days…”
I narrowed my eyes. “One of these days, what?”
He cleared his throat and scratched his head. “Well, I do hope to… I mean, I’d like to… Someday, if you don’t mind, I’d like to…” He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Let go a hot stream of piss on you as you lie unclothed beneath me.”
I was shocked, absolutely bollocked by this suggestion. My cock became hard and my breathing shallow.
“My God. You’re a fucking degenerate bastard, ain’t you?” I said with a certain amount of awe and affection in my voice.
“Yes. I thought you were aware of that.”
“You keep surprising me.”
“Good. We must keep our marriage bed fresh and exciting.”
“I don’t suppose that’s going to be a problem.”
“Nor do I.”
“Only now I’ve got a stand and how am I supposed to piss in the chamber pot?”
“I’ll turn around and let you deal with that. I’m sure you can manage.”
He did turn around and pretended to involve himself in checking that all of his belongings were in their proper places, whilst I took deep breaths and thought about dying.
My stand went down.
“All right. I’ve dealt with the situation,” I said. “You can get the pot.”
He turned with excitement in his eyes and fetched the porcelain chamber pot from under the bed, where it was bound to two hooks in the floorboards and wouldn’t overturn when the ship rocked. The pot also had a lid to keep the contents from splashing.
He placed the vessel in front of me, then stood there with his hands on his hips, as if I were about to begin a planned performance.
I stared at him. “I don’t know if I can do this with you right there.”
“Oh. Of course. I’ll go over here.”
“You can watch, only don’t be so obvious, if you please.”
“Of course. I do apologize.”
I glanced over. He stood there, his backside against the table that contained the map and miniature ships, arms folded over his chest, an expectant and lustful expression on his handsome face.
I huffed a laugh and shook my head as I took my cock in hand and aimed at the vessel. It took a moment as I wasn’t used to doing this with an audience. But then a small burst of piss came and a steady stream made a poetic arc into the porcelain pot, making a familiar sound as the liquid landed.
I focused on the task at hand, and when I was done, shook off, then bravely glanced at Dinesh.
His face was flushed, and he wasn’t smiling, only gazing at me with a hunger that exceeded all expectation.
“Holy fuck,” I said, backing up until my thighs hit the bed.
He cleared his throat and tried to collect himself.
“I’ll look after that for you, why don’t I?” he said, swallowing thickly and walking forward to collect the pot from the floor.
I stared in horror, hoping he wasn’t going to drink my piss. I was all for ingesting the results of our coupling, but I didn’t think I could look past a lust for imbibing urine, and I wondered if I’d taken on more than I’d bargained for with Captain Martin.
But he latched the lid and returned the chamber pot to its spot beneath the bed.
“We can toss this over the side later. But I will not be distracted from my immediate mission.”
“Which is…?”
“To give you a proper spanking and then fuck the living daylights out of you.”
“Oh,” I said, my voice breathy. “Yes.”
“Get on the bed, Rooster. All fours.”
I scrambled up and got into position, as Dinesh removed his clothes and climbed up beside me.
When his hand landed softly on my rear, I gasped and moaned.
He chuckled. “I’ve barely touched you.”
“It’s been a long while since we could…you know…get up to this.”
This was true. Except for a few forays to the hidden tidal pool where we had a little more freedom, we hadn’t engaged in the wild encounters we preferred, in deference to Francis and his community being so close by.
Our visit to Talamanca had been enjoyable and restful, but in this one area the visit had been quite an ordeal.
“That’s true. I don’t even know what I’m spanking you for.”
“My own good?”
“That will do,” he said, and began.
He started slow, but the delicious cocktail of pain and pleasure, accompanied by the sounds of his hand on my eager flesh, was a thing of beauty. I sincerely hoped that Squid was somewhere else playing with Pearl and not sitting outside this door listening to everything.
I shook that thought out of my head and focused on what I was feeling, both in my body and in my brain. That familiar sense of Dinesh’s power and control over me encouraged a heady euphoria that came quicker than ever.
I moaned and cried out, arching my back and presenting my arse for my punishment.
More, more, more.
I was on fire, mouth open, breaths quick and sharp. The desire built too rapidly, and the gathering tension surprised me with its quick arrival. I opened my mouth to warn him that I was about to spend, but what came out was a lengthy groan followed by bursts of fluid from my untouched cock.
“Oh fuck, what a good lad. What a good lad,” Dinesh praised, his voice husky with need, as he stopped and cupped my chin, kissing my cheek and grinning like the scandalous fool he was.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
A familiar shame ran through me, that served to make the experience all the better. I was a lowly, naughty, reprehensible lad who liked to be treated rough and fucked into submission. I was only good for this very thing, for the captain to take in hand and do what he would.
Not serious thoughts, but the ones I liked to toy with in the way I liked to humiliate myself for this man. These feelings were all a part of the fun, and I leaned into them at long last.
“Yes, you should be,” the captain said, picking up on my pretence. “What a travesty. I imagined you’d hold out longer.”
“Oh, Captain. I’m so sorry. I’ve failed you, haven’t I?” My voice was reedy and thin, as I trembled with the aftershocks of my pleasure.
“Nothing for it but to get back on the horse.”
“What?”
“Well, I mean, let’s try something else, shall we? I think a suitable penance for you would be to choke on my cock.”
“Aye. Of course. I shall try to prove myself.”
He slapped my backside. “Get up.”
I slid off the bed. He pointed to the floor in front of him.
I fell to my knees, his rampant prick jutting like a beacon before me. My eyes went wide and I tried not to drool.
He circled the base with his fingers and bobbed the head teasingly once or twice, then swiped the wet bulb against my closed lips. I gazed up at him, obedient to the last. I wouldn’t take his prick until he’d given me leave. I fluttered my eyelids like a desperate lass.
He took a deep breath and quirked the corner of his lips, enjoying the suspense as he wiped the head of his truncheon over my chin and cheeks. I’d let a sparse beard grow during our time on Talamanca, and I think he liked the feel of my strawberry-blond whiskers against his tender bits.
I let my lips part the slightest bit, and he got the hint.
“Open,” he ordered.
I did, as wide as I could, and stuck out my tongue, my cock hardening already at this debasing treatment, the scent of him, and the thought of spending three days in the privacy of his rooms. Who needed to eat, really? We could live on a diet of cock and spunk for a short time, surely.
He placed the head of his prick on my tongue, teasing back and forth, as I waited.
“Wider.”
I stretched my jaw.
“Deep breath.”
I inhaled through my nose.
He took my chin with his fingers, pressing down, and sliding his cock into my throat, thrusting as I gagged and coughed, my fingers digging into the skin of my thighs, my eyes watering.