Chapter Eighteen
Afterglow
Afew days later, once we’d dropped anchor off Port Royal, the captain held a proper celebration for me.
“All hail, Simon Bartholomew White!” Hillier shouted, raising a tankard of ale as he leaned on the gunwale.
“Simon Bartholomew White!” the men echoed, great grins and admiration on their faces as they regarded me.
Me, the lost young man who had begged for a place on the Arrow when I was last in this vicinity, with nothing to his name but the need for a purpose and a means of living.
I was now married to the most impressive Dinesh Martin, captain of the imposing frigate, the Arrow.
I’d also discovered my powers and was learning to wield them with purpose.
And I’d been welcomed into a crew of varied and talented men who, though rough and not the most well-mannered, had taught me much about living on board a ship and creating a society of outcasts that functioned, in many ways, more justly than traditional ones.
The weather was fine, the sea breezes gentle.
We’d anchored off port the previous evening.
Most of the crew were preparing to take the skiffs to land after our festivities here and continue the celebration.
The captain, myself, and a handful of fellows had elected to remain aboard and head to town the following day.
There were repairs needing to be attended to by the carpenter and his mate, and the captain had insisted on another day to coddle and pamper me whilst I recovered from the intense supernatural showdown on deck.
My triumph had been complete. I’d had no more horrible dreams, and my sleep was as deep and peaceful as a newborn babe’s. I saw no more visions, and neither did any of the crew. The hold that the creature had gained over me and over the entirety of the ship had vanished.
“I don’t know why we shouldn’t go ashore with the rest of the men,” I said to Dinesh as I leaned against the quarterdeck, drinking from a bottle of rum and tugging on the rag doll that Pearl held between her teeth.
Anchored off the coast of Jamaica at Port Royal, we were reasonably safe, since there was an agreement of sorts between pirates who came ashore here—that we would not attack each other in order to keep this place as a sort of a refuge.
Merchant ships steered clear, as they knew the kind of men who had made this town.
“Well, Rooster, you see,” Captain Martin said, lifting his cheroot to his lips and inhaling.
He shut his eyes, let the smoke out in soft puffs, then opened them.
“I figured that, with only a few men aboard, and those busy with repairs, you and I can celebrate properly the fact that you are no longer plagued by an evil spirit. If you understand what I mean…”
I gave him a puzzled look.
“Are you going to hang me from the yardarm and fuck me?”
He coughed, the smoke exiting his mouth in a large cloud that he waved as he tried to contain his amusement at my suggestion.
“As much as that idea might appeal to me, I fear it would be imprudent to fuck you out in the open.”
“Well, then, who cares if the crew is here or not?”
Dinesh stepped forward and cupped my chin, making sure to keep the end of his cheroot from my skin.
“You see, Rooster, I only want to forget about everyone and everything when we are in our rooms this evening. I do not want to risk being interrupted…and distracted from my plans.”
“Plans?”
“Yes. My filthy, depraved plans.”
My favourite kind.
“Filthy? Depraved?”
“So filthy. So depraved.”
“Well, then, I suppose it’s wise to make sure there’s nobody around to hear me begging you for mercy.”
He gave me a slow smile as his eyes flashed with desire.
***
We’d been temperate in our drinking, and all of the crew but the carpenter and a handful of others had departed in the early evening to continue their celebrations in the taverns of Port Royal.
Captain Martin led me back to our rooms with mischief in his eyes and hands no doubt itchy to wield the soft ropes. My belly swirled with excitement at the prospect of a proper session in them, now that my strength had returned.
Dinesh tossed a ham hock onto Pearl’s blanket, and she immediately got to work, chewing the remnants of meat off it with happy little snarls and smacks.
“What’s on the menu then?” I asked. “Teasing? Torture? Toys?”
He turned and gave me a mysterious smile as he wiped his hand on a cloth.
“Only, Captain, I do think you should know, now that I am a powerful and short-tempered witch, you should be ever more appreciative that I willingly submit to this sort of thing.”
“Believe me, Rooster, I am. Certainly, the fact that you could at any moment cast a terrible spell on me if you are not pleased at how things are proceeding will always be in the back of my mind.”
I stopped walking. “Dinesh, I would never wield my power against you.”
“A jest, that’s all. I trust you, in the same way that you’ve trusted me since the beginnings of our entanglement.”
He reached for my hand and pulled me along behind him.
Once in his rooms, he told me to strip, whilst he gathered a few different lengths of his prized red rope and tossed them onto the bed, the sight of which provoked an instant response in me.
I wondered what he had in mind.
“I can tell you are trying to outfox me. But you cannot.”
“I only want to prepare myself for whatever depraved idea has taken hold of you.”
“Then know this: I plan to wrap you in the rope like a treasured gift to myself. A fairly simple undertaking that will make you look absolutely scandalous and keep you in a state of helpless anticipation.”
“So, pretty much the usual,” I said.
“Yes. Pretty much the usual,” he agreed. “Now stand still and put your arms behind your back.
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
I obeyed, becoming more and more ignited as he went about his quiet and deliberate work.
The pressure of the rope as he looped the soft material over my limbs and wrapped the length around my belly and torso, made a kind of brassiere around my pectoral muscles. Taut enough to constrain and push up the flesh, but not so tight as to impede my breathing.
“What did you say this was called?” I asked, gazing down at myself in rapture.
“Hojojutsu.”
“Hojo-what-su?”
“Hojojutsu,” he said, more slowly, careful to maintain his focus on the task.
“Huh.”
“It’s a creation of the Japanese. For tying up prisoners.”
“Oh…my.”
He picked up a smaller length of rope and made a harness around my bollocks and the base of my prick, a technique he’d used before to keep me in a state of solidity and readiness as he teased me past the point of sanity.
When he had me trussed up to his liking, he gave my cock a couple of careless tugs and nodded to the bed.
“Up you go.”
I cocked my head. “Uh…I’m trussed like a Sunday roast. How am I supposed to get there?”
“I would suggest quite carefully,” he said, leaning back against the table and crossing his arms over his chest.
I narrowed my eyes. “You only want to watch me struggle.”
“Hmm, what a perceptive observation,” he said. “Get on the bloody bed.”
“For fuck’s sake.” I huffed a breath, then turned and attempted to climb onto the bed with my arms and hands restrained. The task was humiliating in the extreme. I misjudged when I brought my other knee up and fell forward into the mattress, onto my face.
“Goddam bugger,” I mumbled into the blankets.
“We must work on your form, I fear,” Captain Martin said, clicking his tongue as I struggled to right myself. “I’d order you to be silent, but your mutterings are as amusing as your attempts at obedience.”
I gave him the finger as awkward as that was from my current position.
He slapped me on the arse and I yipped. He had conveniently left the flesh of my backside clear of rope and now I understood why.
This man, I swear. I sighed with happiness.
“Saucy, saucy, witch. Such a powerful witch. Such a naughty, naughty witch.” He spoke these words whilst touching me everywhere, gliding his fingers over the criss-crossing ropes and my naked flesh as I shivered with excitement.
“Your witch,” I whispered.
“My witch. My husband. My seed-bucket. My filthy little acolyte.”
I moaned as he attached me to the chain above the bed.
He chuckled and slid his fingers in the crack of my arse, tickling my hole.
“So eager. So, so naughty. You like being touched there.”
“Aye. Yes. More.”
“Oh, I’ll give you more. Don’t worry about that.”
His hand drifted over my belly and along my standing cock as I gasped and tried to control my breathing. The bed frame creaked and the mattress shifted as he moved off it.
“Where are you going?” I asked, breathless with anticipation.
“To get something. Quiet.”
I quivered with excitement as I heard a drawer open. I wondered what other intriguing toys the captain had at his disposal that he’d kept hidden.
The mattress dipped again and something hard and cold pressed against my skin.
I craned my neck to look, and Dinesh brought the item forward. But for the green colour, the object resting in the palm of his hand resembled a moderately-sized tumescent prick. The base flared out with a ball attached, for ease of handling I presumed.
“Oh fuck. What is that?”
“This, my dear Rooster, is called a dildo. The device is made of jade, which is a kind of stone. Another one of my Eastern treasures.”
“You’ve been holding out on me. Why haven’t you shown me that before?” I asked, unable to tear my gaze away.
“I was waiting for the perfect moment to shove this pretty thing up your arse. You’d have been begging me constantly if you’d known the tool was here.”
“That wonderfully shaped object must be,” I swallowed. “Quite solid and, um, stiff.”
“And heavy. Shall we give the device a try?”
“Obviously.”
“Obviously,” he said, sounding somewhat impatient. “Look, will you be silent, or do I have to put something between those pretty lips.”
“You keep asking me questions!”
“Well, I won’t be asking you anything further. Do you object to a gag?”