the Dalaverse

I do have weekend stuff to relate. But first, fruits of labor and whatnot: the second part of "North and South of the River." AKA the J/W/J smutfest. There are three boys gettin' nookie and fetishes and bondage and spankings behind the cut, so be warned.



NaSotR: Three Sunrises



“I just don’t understand why I’m the only one who gets this sort of treatment. Can’t one of the two of you be tied up and blindfolded too?”

“Sorry, mate, but the answer is no.” Jack snickered at the plaintive tone in his voice and James looked to Will for sympathy, but he only bit his lip against a wry grin and shook his head.

“You are the only one here who’s never done this before,” he pointed out reasonably, winding the sash in his hands.

James should have known something was up when Jack came sauntering in with this dark blue bit of tattered fabric instead of his usual red-and-white one. And he should have been suspicious at the conspirational glances the two of them kept exchanging. Instead, he had assumed that he was in store for – well, not exactly a quiet night, but at least one less embarrassing than the night previous, wherein Will and Jack had gotten him horrendously drunk on rum and he had done things he was fairly certain he would not have agreed to sober before passing out on the floor with his head pillowed on Will’s back. This morning he had awakened to find all of his wigs missing, his head being split apart from the inside, and his upper body entirely covered in fanciful charcoal drawings. He’d scrubbed at the markings as best he could, but in the end one shirt had been entirely ruined and he had been forced to keep his jacket on all day in the sweltering heat, as well as hightail it to the milliner’s shop for a shamefully overpriced wig that was more gray than white. Jack and Will had been only too happy to return most of his stolen property and help him wash off the stubborn mermaid on his belly, after he’d shouted at them for a good half-hour and driven himself nearly hoarse.

And yet here he was, tucked into bed entirely naked where his two lovers were both fully clothed, preparing himself to be lashed to the bedposts and made sightless with Jack’s long sash, praying in vain that there were traces of madness in his family on which he could blame his behavior.

Jack crawled up the bed towards him, a glint in his eyes and a twist of rope in his hands. He took hold of one wrist and sat back on his heels to start tying it, but paused and fished something out of the back of his trousers.

“Almost forgot. Lizzie’s letter.” He tossed the battered envelope to Will, who momentarily abandoned his fiddling with the sash to tear it open.

“Elizabeth? Elizabeth Swann?” Jack nodded, looping the rope around James’ left wrist.

“She sends word to the smithy for us to fetch when we’re in town,” Will explained without looking up from the letter.

James tugged at his newly tied hand, but it didn’t come loose. The knots Jack had tied looked and felt secure. “How is she?” he asked, curious and a bit saddened. “She’s never written me.”

“Well, you never spent the night with her, did you?” said Jack, hopping over to the other side to take care of the remaining hand.

“She’s well,” said Will at the same time.

James looked back and forth between them, incredulous. Jack didn’t meet his eyes, but he grinned as he concentrated on his ropes. Will offered him a half-smile that held a touch of wistfulness.

“It was right after her father died,” he explained quietly. “We came into port the day before she was set to sail for London. She was hurting, and we had missed her.”

James looked down at the paper in Will’s hands. He remembered the day she left. It was the first time he’d spoken with her in the weeks since the funeral, and she had possessed a sudden soft strength that had puzzled him at the time.

The letter rustled as Will set it aside and reached out to lift James’ chin. His brown eyes were heavy with compassion, but it was Jack who spoke.

“You were hurtin’ too, weren’t you, lad?” he asked, still tying his ropes. “Wish now we’d known it and offered you the same comfort.”

Will leaned forward to kiss him. He thought to bring him closer, but his half-forgotten bonds prevented him from doing so. Will pulled back to watch him pull against the ropes.

“Too tight?” Jack asked.

James glared at him. “Would it make a difference if I said yes?”

“It would,” Will replied forthrightly. “Are they?”

In the face of their care, despite the specifications of this arrangement, James reluctantly shook his head. “No, they’re fine.”

“‘Course they’re fine,” said Jack, holding his hand over his heart in mock insult. “You of all people, William, ought to know that when I tie a man, I do it properly.”

“See?” said Will to James. “I’ve lived through the experience, numerous times.”

“Considering your various appetites, you’ll forgive me if I don’t find that entirely comforting,” James replied dryly.

Jack clucked his tongue. “Now, now, Jamie, you did agree to this, and you’ll see it through like the good upright boy you are.”

“Right,” said Will decisively, balancing himself on his knees across James’ lap and not allowing for any kind of satisfying contact as he wound the sash around James’ head. He fastened it tight so it wouldn’t slip, and James found that his notions about the color had been right: it was impossible to see through it. He was blinkered and bound at the hands of two pirates who’d already been proven to have the most sexually deviant minds he had ever encountered.

He was stupid. He was insane. He was secretly operating under the influence of a death wish.

He was also suddenly, completely, painfully hard.

From the sound of Jack’s snicker, it seemed he was the first to notice. “Upright indeed.”

They waited as he adjusted, straining against the ropes and blinking under his veil before letting his body and his eyes rest.

“All right?” That was Jack, somewhere on his left – he forced himself to make a mental note of it.

The note proved fairly useless as one of them leaned down over his erection and proceeded to breathe on it in a most maddening fashion. James tried to lift his hips and incite some kind, any kind of touch, but the other – Jack, he could feel the rings at the bases of his fingers – took hold of his ankles and pulled his legs out straight.

“Oh, this is so unfair,” he groaned, stretching powerlessly against both the ropes around his wrists and the iron grip on his ankles. “Why don’t you just put me on the rack and get it over with?”

Peals of laughter greeted his ears, which, along with the rest of his senses, were working overtime to compensate for his lack of sight.

“The torture we have in mind is far more gentle in nature, love,” said Jack as fingers – whose? – skated across one of his nipples.

Another hand teased at the head of his cock, circling it lightly, sweet but not nearly enough to satisfy. “How are your powers of deduction, Commodore?” That was Will, but it was difficult to tell where his voice was coming from. James could feel his head moving unconsciously from side to side as he tried to track down the voices and the touches.

“What?” he gasped, arching as a pair of lips fluttered low on his stomach, just over where the heat was building.

“Can you tell...”

Hands lifting his arse as one of them – Jack, he thought, but couldn’t be sure – settled himself on his chest. One tongue licking up the side of his cock and another meeting it at the tip, taking over to slide back down to the base. James twitched, unable to move because of whoever was sitting on him.

“...which one of us...”

One or both of them must have gotten undressed without his notice, because the next thing he felt was another stiff cock rubbing against his own, and it was so good that he didn’t need to see, didn’t need to know who it was, didn’t need to move, didn’t need to breathe as his mouth was captured in a bruising kiss.

Then it was all taken away and there was no flesh on his flesh, and he cried out from the loss.

“...is touching you at any given moment?”

No one was touching him at that particular given moment.

“Please, oh please God...” He didn’t care that he was begging. The only thing he cared for were those hands, lips, tongues, bodies pressed against him once more.

Someone’s fingernails dug into his left thigh as kisses started to run down his right arm, starting with his tied wrist, tasting the sweat collected on the inside of his elbow and pausing, waiting – and the motions were mimicked on his other arm, nearly identical. He kept still, quivering, terrified that any jerks against the ropes or the hands pinning his lower body to the bed would cause them to stop. In tandem they continued across and over, up, almost-but-not-quite meeting at the base of his throat. Then together they went down his chest, his belly, stopping for a brief second to dip tips of tongues into his navel. His legs were pried wide apart, so that he couldn’t feel the telltale brush of hair against his skin and he still didn’t know who had which half of him. It didn’t matter, didn’t matter one bit because they were both focusing on his cock now, kissing up and down his length, kissing each other, tangling flat tops and silky sides and veined underbellies of tongues against him and around him, sticky and pulsing and bringing him so close to completion that he couldn’t hear himself screaming.

He caught the tail end of his own wordless yell when again, the glorious sensations were taken away from him and again, he was left panting and wanting and unable to get to his two assailants so that he might throttle them or fuck them senseless.

“Well?” said a silky voice, low with passion, from somewhere above him. He didn’t know who it was. He wouldn’t have care if he’d had the presence of mind to think about it.

James closed his gaping mouth and sucked air in through his nose, forcing himself to calm down as much as was possible. A pair of hands, perhaps mismatched, yanked his legs apart again and teeth sank into the fleshiest part of his inner thigh, biting down hard before relenting and sucking gently.

That was going to leave a mark, he thought woozily.

“And who was that, pray tell?” Jack asked. James fought to think beyond the scarlet horizon of a haze in his brain. The mouth had released his skin be before Jack had spoken, so it might have been him. But Will, he remembered, liked to bite.

“Will?” he hazarded, nowhere near certain, because Jack could play rough too.

Somebody tutted in disappointment as his legs were flung over a pair of shoulders. Hands clamped down on his calves and he was lifted half-off the bed as whoever had grabbed him rose to his knees. Without any kind of warning, his bared bottom was soundly smacked.

“Wrong answer,” said one of them.

“Now who was the second?” said the other. They sounded the same. James didn’t know if one was imitating the other or they had met somewhere in the middle of their two voices. A nose poked into his ear and he could feel a cold bead against his heated skin.

“Jack!” he shouted.

His back end was dropped back onto the bed with a thump. “Wrong again,” Jack moaned in exasperation, letting his own voice slip through. “Honestly, Commodore, haven’t you learned anything in the two nights we’ve spent together?”

“I’ve learned one thing,” James managed to gasp out.

“And what’s that?” Will stretched out beside him, letting an arm drop lazily across his ribs. James had gained back enough of his sanity to resist leaning into the touch.

“Spank me again and your little game will be finished straight away.”

“Is that a fact?” Jack wanted to know, attaching himself to James’ other side like a limpet. He had guessed correctly that they didn’t want to bring this to a quick close, because neither set of wandering hands came near to where he so desperately needed them. “Now, we can assume here that you mean you’ll not put up with a little friendly punishment.” He slid a hand underneath James to stroke the site of the blow. “Or we can take your true meaning that it’ll bring you off without us having to lay hand on the flagpole you’ve risen to salute us.”

“And really,” Will piped up, catching James’ index finger and drawing it past his lips, “we’re far too fond of laying hands on you to allow that to happen.”

“So, in conclusion...” It took James a moment, distracted by Will’s mouth as he was, to realize that they were waiting for him to reach the conclusion.

“In conclusion,” he began uncertainly, “um...”

Jack scraped nails down his ribs in what he probably thought was an encouraging manner.

“Touch me again?” he burst out.

“I like that conclusion,” said Will.

He got a bit better at the game, no doubt due to the fact that his correct guesses were heavily rewarded. Eventually he was able to detect Jack’s hands every time because they felt like they were always thinking of moving, always thinking of the next tweak or twist, while Will’s touch was solidly grounded in the moment. It was far more difficult to tell their mouths apart; Will had, after all, learned most of his technique from Jack. James gave it his level best, however, and he had begun to think that this tumble was going to reach a conclusion of its own when Jack decided that the balance needed to be upset once again.

“What?” Will grumbled around a mouthful of James’ hard flesh as Jack tugged on his arm.

“I’m sorry, do you want to be arrested and hanged?” James hissed in their general direction.

“Trust me on this, both of you,” Jack said.

He took hold of Will again, dragging him to a far corner of the bed while James held back whimpers of frustration. He wriggled his toes and pulled on the ropes, listening as Jack whispered something in Will’s ear. Then Will laughed softly and his curiosity was sparked.

“It’s rude to keep secrets,” he informed them with a pout.

The weight on the bed shifted as Will got up. “Hush, you,” Jack purred. “I’ve got you taken care of.” Any further protest James would have made was forgotten as Jack bent down to take up where Will had left off, giving him just enough to want more so badly he would have said anything to get it, if he’d actually thought Jack might listen to him. Far too soon, though, Jack released him, gave him a peck on the cheek while ignoring his frantic pleas, and left him alone on the bed.

They were going to leave him there? Alone and unfinished? Surely no man could be so cruel, not even a pirate.

It seemed that one of them, at least, wasn’t; he sat down beside James.

“Oh good,” James breathed.

“Don’t worry,” Will replied, laying a hand on his thigh, where he’d bitten down earlier. “Jack might leave you here like this, but I won’t.”

“I would not!” Jack said from somewhere nearby, but not near enough to be on the bed.

Will paid him no mind as he rocked forward, leaning over so that James could feel the warm drift of his breath. “I’ve just been informed of something, James,” he murmured, lips brushing James’ ear and making him shiver. He adjusted his hips so that his knees were pointing in Will’s direction. “Jack notices a lot, more than most people would give him credit for. And he likes to watch you.”

James was not certain he appreciated the tone in Will’s voice. “And your point?”

“He saw something in your eyes that first night that I missed,” said Will. “Something you wanted.”

About to retort that of course Jack had seen what he wanted and that they’d both given it to him, he closed his teeth on the words – and, incidentally, on his tongue – when he felt the touch on his shoulder.

It was feather-light, as had been many of the caresses of Jack and Will for the past...half-hour? Forty-five minutes? Hour?

But this...this was an actual feather.

This was the feather.

He felt the color rush to his face as the feather drifted lightly over his skin, sparking little hitches in his breathing.

“How did he know?” James whispered.

The feather continued to ghost along his chest, tickling under his chin. “Some things are better left unasked.” Will drew it down, twirling its soft bristles in patterns, making James twitch and shake.

“Will,” he gasped as the feather descended below his waist and swept back and forth, as if there might have been dust gathered there.

“G’wan,” came Jack’s low voice, sounding like he was just behind Will, peering over his shoulder.

“I think you like to watch this far too much,” Will replied mildly. He held the feather steady as James heard Jack’s strangled gasp. He snorted in amusement, guessing that Will had made good use of his free hand. Jack fell to his knees on the bed beside them, and James was sorry not to be able to see his face as whatever Will was doing to him evoked heady little moans and cries.

He cried out himself as the feather brushed over his cock. It was like being fondled by the edges of a dream, delicate and ethereal and tormenting in the knowledge that it wasn’t real.

“Thought I’d forgotten about you, hmm?” Will scolded, flicking it against his far too sensitive skin. Then it bobbed erratically against him as Will let out a surprised gasp and the bed bounced beneath all three of them: Jack taking him as he knelt. James could hear the slide of flesh as he drove Will forward, with Will’s hands falling on either side of James’ leg.

“Forget the damned feather,” Will growled.

“I daresay your mouth’ll do instead,” said Jack with a buck of his hips that set Will to moaning and the bedframe to shaking again.

“It will,” James said, the absolute need back in his voice as he listened to the two of them getting what they had denied him for far too long. “It will, it will...” He trailed off as Will slid wet lips down his shaft, taking him all the way in. Finally – finally...He lasted only long enough for a few quick bobs of Will’s head before he strained upward, empyting himself into a mouth that was only too happy to swallow him down.

James came back down into his body and let his weight rest against the ropes, waiting for the two beside him to join him in languid release. Will came first, resting his head on James’ thigh and vaguely stirring life back into his cock with ragged panting breaths. But they had kept him waiting too long, and he didn’t feel much more than a suggestive twinge.

Jack was not long after, crying out a long string of curses and Will’s name before he let go of Will and rolled over James to lie on his other side.

He allowed them to rest for a minute before nudging each in the back of the head with a toe or a knee. “I would very much appreciate it if you’d untie me now.”

“Oh. Right.” Will turned himself around to peel the blindfold from James’ eyes while Jack went for the ropes. As the last layer of cloth fell from his eyes, James was treated to the rather enticing sight of a sweaty, post-coital Will, who smiled at him in a dazed sort of way and sank down to snuggle into his side. Jack gave up after trying the knots with his teeth and, inexplicably, his feet, and ending up slicing through them with his cutlass. He rubbed James’ chafed wrists with some of the oil on the bedside table.

“They wouldn’t get like this if you didn’t pull on them so,” he admonished. James cracked an eyelid and scowled at him.

“The things I do for my boys,” said Jack mournfully.

Will’s hand shot up to yank him down. “Shut up, Jack. I think we all deserve a bit of sleep after that.”

“Me most of all,” said James, mollified by the arms closing around him.

“Agreed,” Jack mumbled against his neck. Will grunted in assent before falling fast asleep, starting to snore almost immediately. James was following suit when he heard Jack breathe once more into his ear.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that proclivity for a spanking, mate.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Captain.” He paused to reflect before amending, "Actually, I probably will."

The last thing he heard was Jack's surprised chuckle before they both drifted off.