New Horizons Ch. 02

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Pelaam
Pelaam
1,328 Followers

"Diego, my love, I, ah, I cannot hold back much longer," Nat panted desperately. He whimpered needily, writhing as best he could under the strong hands holding him in place.

"Then come for me, mi angel," Diego husked, swallowing Nat to the root, burying his nose in the fragrant, dark curls at the base of Nat's cock. The Spaniard heard Nat scream and the younger man jerked and convulsed, sending his essence into Diego's welcoming mouth. He kept his lips around the throbbing organ, milking his lover until Nat was spent before sliding up the bunk to engage him in a passionate kiss. Diego opened the small bottle he had left on the pillow and poured a small amount of the oil onto his hand. The bigger man then positioned himself between Nat's wide-flung thighs.

Nat bit his lip, moaning softly as he watched the Spaniard stroke himself with the oil. The impressive organ was a rich purple with its need and glistened with the oil that adorned it. Nat brought his knees up and offered himself to his mate. He groaned and trembled as he felt a slick finger trace around his opening.

With a growl, Diego fastened his lips on Nat's slim throat, reaching down between his lover's legs to slide his fingers up and down the cleft of Nathaniel's firm arse, teasing the sensitive port that awaited him. He gently slid one finger into the tightness of the small opening. Nat was so relaxed from his orgasm that Diego found little resistance and was soon able to thrust three fingers in and out. He sought his lover's jewel, working the tiny gland as he laved at Nat's reviving sex.

Nat pushed back against his lover's hand, groaning and writhing, feeling the older man re-arouse him once more. Nat moaned as he bucked his hips. His manhood was thrusting into in wet heat, the fingers of his lover were deep within him and his head thrashed from side to side from the depths of the pleasure Diego bestowed upon him. However he needed more, he needed Diego's shaft to be buried within him.

"Diego!" he cried as the Spaniard's fingers brushed over his prostate again and again. "Take me now!" Nat felt Diego press the head of his organ against his readied portal and enter him slowly. His lover's hardness filled him as he desired and he wrapped his legs around the solid form to lock his lover in place.

Growling in the back of his throat, Diego moved to bury his weapon in Nat's slick sheath and gently thrust forward. He gasped as he was enveloped in tight, moist heat. He paused to give his lover time to adjust. At the hitch of slender hips, he started rocking back and forth slowly, the sensation of being enveloped in Nat's narrow strait making him groan. Diego began to move apace, pounding into willing flesh, feeling each ripple of Nat's channel like tiny fingers massaging him. He slid his hands under Nat, grasping the taut buttocks to raise slim hips higher and change the angle and depth of his relentless penetration.

Diego rumbled approvingly as Nat wailed when his shaft slid repeatedly over his lover's hidden sweetness. The smaller man writhed and arched, exposing muscle and tendon in his throat. Diego leant forward, corkscrewing his hips as he tasted the taut flesh offered up to his demanding lips. He could feel Nat's erection sliding against his belly. He released the smaller man's hips and sped up his movements as Nat's cries became louder and more impassioned. He leant down, nipping at the bejewelled nipple, tugging at it in time with his thrusts. He slid a calloused hand to grasp masterfully at Nat's resurgent sex and stroked it strongly.

"Oh yes please," Nat implored and felt Diego speed up even more. Suddenly overwhelming sensations of pleasure washed over him and his whole body stiffened as a second orgasm stormed through him. Crying out loudly he spurted his cream over Diego's still stroking hand and his own smooth belly.

Feeling Nat convulse beneath him, Diego quickly reached his own zenith. He arched his back and slammed hard into Nat one last effortful time. He froze, buried as deeply as possible in his beloved's body, as he felt himself release filling his lover's tight channel with his hot seed.

They collapsed onto the bunk, panting and gasping for breath, holding onto each other tightly as they rode out the aftershocks of their mutual orgasm. Diego ran his tongue over Nat's luscious, smooth flesh as he licked away every precious drop of his lover's crème. Draping leaden legs onto his shoulders, he let his tongue lap at Nat's opening to catch the few drops of his own release that lingered there. At the soft tug to his hair, he ascended the lithe form and mated their lips as Nat demanded. He rolled their bodies, letting Nat drape languorously over his broad chest.

"Sleep, my angel," he whispered. "I love you."

"Love you, too," came a sleepy murmur. Nat nestled close against his lover's body. He did not even remember his eyes closing.

****

Diego had begun to be happily convinced that this voyage was going to be uneventful until his lookout espied a ship flying a distress flag, its sails down. Sighing, he gave the order to tentatively approach, ensuring his crew were ready at the ship's cannons. He growled his anger as the distress flag was replaced with the skull and crossbones denoting the ship as pirate and it began to fire on 'Maria'.

The Spaniard kept Nat at his side as Boro strode to take command of the crew towards 'Maria's stern. He was furious to find that Ilario had lined his own pockets to the detriment of the ship. One of 'Maria's' cannons did not work properly and the number of cannonballs was less than he would have had aboard. However, despite damage to the main mast, he was proud to see that his men worked twice as hard to make up for Ilario's selfish failings. They were all, and more, he could ever have asked for. They fought at his and Nat's side with a ferocity that rivalled the day they fought Le Diable Mal.

Diego gave a litany of silent thanks as it was soon apparent that the staunch defence of 'Maria' was more than the pirates had expected. The Spaniard made a mental note to speak to his crew once they were safely away from the other ship. To his mind, it seemed too convenient that the pirates were in just the right place and had clearly thought the ship easy pickings. He gave a shout of triumph, pulling a panting, sweating Nat into his arms for a breath-stealing kiss as the cheers from his crewmen rang around them. As he released his mate he stared after the swiftly moving pirate ship, taking note of its name; 'Dark Desires', the ship Captained by an Englishman named Tamesis.

"We did it, Diego," Nat husked.

"Aye, my love," Diego nodded as his eyes traversed his ship. "But 'Maria' took a beating. "'Twill be slow going to reach port. Go find Boro," he added, aiming a swat to the tight rear. "Get him to help with assessing other damages and any loss or hurt amongst the crew. I would have words with Matthew."

Nathaniel nodded. Matthew had been one of the oldest serving aboard 'Maria'. He knew Diego trusted the older man and had hoped to persuade him to join them on back on land whilst undertaking this commission. He gave Diego a swift kiss and then hurried to do his husband and Captain's bidding.

Diego listened angrily to Matthew's narration that Ilario was a seasoned drinker and unlucky gambler. That ship and crew alike received less money spent on them than when under Diego due to the need to repay debt and purchase more rum. Diego was annoyed with himself that he had not looked more deeply into Ilario's history before selling his beloved ship.

"'Tis no fault of yours, Cap'n Diego," Matthew rasped. "We was all afooled by Ilario. He came aboard, swaggerin' like a peacock, dressed in his fineries. We all thought he would be almost as good as having ye as Cap'n. But he showed hisself quickly enough. Preferred the comp'ny of his cabin and his rum when asail. 'Tis not the first time we have found ourselves targeted by pirates and Ilario always ceded. Said 'twasn't worth the fighting for. "

Both Diego and Matthew turned at the sound of the Spaniard's name sobbed in Nat's voice. Diego clasped his crying lover to his chest as another trusted man came running quickly behind the distraught young man.

"I'm sorry, Cap'n Diego," Juan said, his head shaking sadly. "There's no sight of Master Boro to be found. There's three other of the crewmen unaccounted for. Perhaps they were taken as prisoners by Cap'n Tamesis."

"Go check again!" Diego commanded, tightening his grip on his beloved mate as coldness took up residence in the pit of his stomach. "Make certain he is not lying hurt somewhere as yet unchecked. Take as many men as you need. Hurry, Juan! Matthew, take charge of assessing 'Maria's' damage and report to me how quickly we can reach port. Nat and I will remain here at the wheel."

"Aye, Cap'n." Two men spoke as one and both rushed to do as bid, their hearts heavy.

Diego eased the now softy hiccupping younger man from his chest and placed a gentle kiss to Nat's lips.

"If he has been taken we shall get him back, mi amor," he promised, locking his eyes with his lover's. He drew Nat back to his chest to hold tightly once more. "And Tamesis will rue the day he was born if Boro is hurt whilst in his hands. This I swear."

****

Boro regained consciousness in a dank, noxious-smelling cell he occupied with two of 'Maria's' crewmen. He had taken a pistol-ball to the thigh and the wound was wrapped with torn clothing from the men before him. He was lucky that the ball had merely dug a deep gouge to his flesh rather than embedding in it. However it throbbed with the same pain as at his left temple. He was only able to guess that he had been clubbed as he had been shot and then taken aboard the pirate ship.

"They took Bill to question a whiles back, Master Boro," one of the men offered as he helped the blond to sit. "He'll tell 'em yer valuable. They'd be fools to not try for a ransom for ye."

"If they want a ransom then we will all be freed," Boro said, his voice a dusty croak as his mouth was so dry. He looked at the heavy manacles at his wrists and ankles and the thick chain that joined them. There would be no escaping with such precautions. He wondered if he would even be able to walk with his hurt leg, much less with the chains that bound him and his fellow captives.

They did not have to wait long before Bill was retuned and unceremoniously shoved into the cell.

"You," his guard said menacingly, pointing at Boro. "On yer feet now. Cap'n Tamesis would be havin' a word with ye."

Boro struggled to his feet and with a painful limp-cum-shuffle followed one guard as the one who had spoken to him kept close behind. He stoically ignored the leering looks that sought to undress him and the not-so-quiet whispers about what pleasures Tamesis would show him. He focused instead on the fact that Diego would not rest until he was free, pay whatever it took and that soon he would be safe with his friends once more.

He was shown into a shabby cabin and swallowed past the dryness in his throat as he stared into the cold grey eyes of his captor. The man was taller but thinner than himself. The clothes he wore, black, satin breeches, a white silk shirt and red frock coat, must once have been of good quality but were now stained and worn and an unwashed odour assailed Boro's nostrils. The man's hair and beard, both thin and straggly, were the same grey as his eyes. The thin-lipped mouth opened in a leer to display broken, blackened teeth and Boro suppressed a shudder.

"So ye are the one as is valuable to Cap'n Alverez," came a husky voice. "Sit!"

Tamesis stood behind his captive and licked his lips. His man had said this prisoner was easy on the eye. He nodded unseen, the man was right. Not that it made much difference to him what the prisoner looked like. He rubbed his hand over the stained crotch of his breeches and then stopped, business first, his pleasure later. He sat opposite the stiffly sitting blond. He pushed paper, quill and ink towards him.

"I am Cap'n Tamesis and whilst ye are aboard me ship me word is yer law. Obey me and live, disobey me and ye end up shark-bait. I was atold yer name is Boro and ye were First Mate to Alverez. Will he pay for ye?"

"Yes he will," Boro nodded, no doubt or hesitation in his voice.

"Good. Then we can do business, Boro. Pen him in yer own writing and I will set the sum for yer return. I had heard Alverez had retired from the sea, thought this job'd be easy. I'm owed a goodly sum for the damage me ship took and the loss of a couple of good men."

"Losses a pirate should expect," Boro snapped unthinkingly. Too late he saw the venomous look and wished he could retract the words. Tamesis seemed a cold, cruel man and Boro knew he would be punished for speaking out of turn. He penned his ransom note, adding the names of the men in his cell. "Captain Diego will pay for the return of all of us, Captain Tamesis," he said, trying to keep a note of respect in his voice for the man's title.

Tamesis read the words slowly, reading not his strongest attribute. He added a sum he felt was likely to be met and showed it to his prisoner. He watched Boro's eyes carefully, but the blond did not seem concerned by the sum. He contemplated raising the figure, but decided against it. The payment was sufficient and he was not of the mind to have to barter for his prisoners. He knew which port Alverez would put into for repairs. He could come at the port from another angle, drop off a couple of trusted men to approach the Spaniard and keep 'Dark Desires' anchored on the far side of the island. Now that business was concluded, he could move on to more pleasurable pursuits.

"Business is concluded, Boro," he said. He watched Boro stand and moved as if to let the blond leave his cabin. Instead, he swung a steel-encircled forearm at Boro's already injured temple, the younger man crumpling instantly. He gave a cold, cruel smile and hefted the unconscious man onto his bunk. The chain between the manacles was slipped over a thick hook embedded strongly into the wall and which kept Boro's arms outstretched. He tore open the shirt to regard the golden-furred chest. He raked cruelly over the innocent nipples before he twisted them to a muted groan of pain. His smile widened.

He pulled a handkerchief from beneath his pillow and shoved it between Boro's lips and tied it tightly in place. His fingers then scrabbled at the ties to Boro's breeches, pulling them to the blond's knees before flipping the barely conscious man onto his front. His hands slapped hard at the pale globes presented to his cruel gaze until they turned pink then red and louder protests and pleas could be heard from the gagged prisoner.

He moved to retrieve a box from under his bunk and laid it on his table to open. He removed a carved, whalebone phallus. He oiled it carefully, twisting and turning it to cover completely, watching as it glinted in the light of his lamp. He knelt astride Boro's trapped legs and unfastened his own breeches to remove what remained of his manhood. He gazed at the ruined flesh, damaged by a pistol's ball during a battle. He was left with effectively half a penis and just one ball of his own. But with stubbornness and determination he had found ways to spurt again. He could not get hard and so used the substitute phallus on his victims. A mixture of their pain and helplessness and his power and cruelty would result in his reaching an orgasm of sorts.

It was enough for his purposes.

He began to work his ruination with his left hand the way any master musician would play their instrument. His fingers danced, squeezed and pulled in an intricate melody to achieve his complex completion. With his right hand he lined up the phallus and shoved it hard into his victim, a muffled scream his reward. He laughed harshly, working himself and his prisoner as he sought his release.

Boro was in Hell. He tried to sink into oblivion, but drifted in and out of consciousness, aware during wakefulness of his body's violation by Tamesis. The throbbing pains at his leg and temple were joined by another, more intimate hurt as something hard and unyielding thrust mercilessly into his unprotected body. He tried to focus away from the present seeking refuge in his memories of joyous times with Diego and Nat and interspersing them with prayers he would share new times of happiness with them.

Tamesis was slowly reaching his zenith. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, his head thrown back, the tendons on his neck standing out in stark relief. His left hand was flying over his flesh in the way he had learnt would stimulate it most. He began to pant wetly, knowing his release was imminent. He wrenched the phallus from Boro's body, stretching over the sweat-dampened back. He gave a shout of completion, biting down hard at Boro's shoulder. A coppery taste in his mouth coincided with the few, scant drops of his seed spilling onto the blond's abused buttocks.

He knelt for several seconds letting his breathing settle before slowly standing and retying his breeches. He sauntered to the table, wiping his carved phallus before replacing it in his box and stowing in beneath his bunk once more. He swaggered to the door, Boro's letter in his hand.

"Take this to Merrick and send him and Blake to negotiate the ransom for the prisoners, Slade," Tamesis ordered. "Then come back for this one," he added, thumbing in Boro's direction. "Put him in another cell, away from his comrades. I may make use of him again. Tell Cinnamon to take good care of him. I'll need him alive to get anything from the likes of Alverez."

****

When Boro's eyes next opened it was to see concerned sienna orbs gazing anxiously down at him. For a moment he forgot where he was and clutched at the slender figure kneeling at his side.

"Nat?" he asked, his voice rough and hoarse.

"No, Master," came the reply. The voice soft and seductive and in an accent Boro could not place. "My name is Cinnamon and I am here to tend to your hurts."

Boro released the shirt he held, looking more closely at the other man. They eyes were similar to Nat's, but now he was truly looking he could see they were darker, more almond shaped. The skin and hair were darker, too. He gave a sigh he could not suppress; it was not Nat and he was not safe.

"I have tended the wound to your head, Master," but I need to tend to your leg and ... other hurts."

Boro knew exactly what the slender male alluded to and tried to push the thought from his mind. His leg needed attention and he rolled to allow the access Cinnamon required. He lay silent, ignoring the pain as his leg wound was cleaned and redressed by gentle, caring hands. It surprised him that the younger man tended to him with apparent concern. He was just a prisoner aboard 'Dark Desires', but, in truth, the youth seemed out of place amongst the brigands.

"How did you come to serve Tamesis?" he finally asked, as Cinnamon completed the care to his leg.

"The ship that bore my last Master and myself was attacked. I do not know if he still lives. I was knocked senseless and when I awoke I was enslaved to Captain Tamesis and have remained so for four months now. Please, Master, I still need to tend to you."

"No," Boro ground out. "In all my time I have never... I have had careless partners but not, never ..."

Cinnamon crooned softly in his native Arabic. He could see in the blond's eyes the fear and shock and had seen it in others Tamesis had abused, some never recovering from the assault. He put his inexplicable concern for the blond down to Boro's similarity for his last Master. Although he acknowledged he had never felt the same protectiveness towards the much older man that had bought him from his first Master and taken him so far from home. He knew he was taking a terrible risk should the blond betray him, but took a fortifying breath and leant a little closer to speak in hushed tones.

Pelaam
Pelaam
1,328 Followers