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Go to picture by The Theban Band


The Captive—A Pirate-y Thingy
by Raven


C aptain, we've found another slave."

Walter Skinner turned, the brown curls of his wig annoying him as they brushed the side of his face. The damn thing was bloody hot, too, but there was no helping it. A man of his station simply did not leave his chambers without proper attire, and that meant being wigged. Sighing, he turned to face his First Mate, William Mulder, wondering why the man didn't just send this slave off to join the others.

Turning, he very quickly saw the reason why. The man standing still, if wary, in his First Mate's grip was nothing like the others. Skin that had obviously been fair not too long ago, now held the bronzing of repeated sunburn, not too long healed. The hair was a sun-streaked brown, strands of red and even dark blonde present, and there was a definite shape and style despite the shagginess. Those locks had been barber tended, not many months ago. The face was roughly-shaven, the skin looking smoother there, as though used to being scraped with a fine blade.

It was no small matter to deduce that this slave was newly come to his condition, and from a wealthy background to boot. That alone would have been enough to make Mulder hold him aside. But now, as Captain Skinner's eyes traveled back up to the slave's face, Mulder tilted the head back, pulling firmly, if lightly, on the hair until the immobile but cautious face was looking up.

"Open your eyes." Mulder spoke firmly, a tiny shake emphasizing the order. His captain gasped aloud as the anger-bright green eyes were revealed in a flash of sooty lashes, before dropping again.

Damn. Damn and damn again. This was no native, no islander of any class or station. Captain Skinner swore mentally as he looked at the man again, cursing the ignorant nobles that had failed to do away with the enslavement of the poorest class of their own people. It was a step above cannibalism, but only just, to beat, brand and bargain the flesh of others, and Skinner had no tolerance for slavery. When he'd been informed of the insurrection on this small island, he'd silently and secretly cheered for the rebelling slaves, despite the fact that he knew the government would send him to rescue any personnel still alive.

Sure enough, orders had come through that he was to take his ship and his men and see what could be salvaged. He'd found the governor in a group of other former nobles, all bound in heavy chains, some heavily marked from flogging. Most of the women and all of the children had been found in a barn, unharmed if terrified. It seemed the slaves were merciful, seeking more justice and equality than revenge.

It was obvious that this man didn't belong to either noble or slave, not with those green eyes.

"Who are you, boy?" Skinner asked it roughly but quietly, not wanting to either scare or reassure until he knew the situation. When he got no answer beyond a level if watchful glare of the green, he asked again, more sharply. "I asked you a question, boy, it would behoove you to answer me, and right quickly. You aren't a native, I'd know your story."

There was still no word, and mindful of ever watchful eyes upon him, Skinner gave a nod to Mulder. The First Mate turned the slave around, backhanding him sharply, if carefully. The slave lowered his eyes, but didn't actually blink.

"Begging your pardon, Captain." A trembling, faint voice at Skinner's side interrupted them. Skinner turned to see a youth, a former noble, now freed from his chains, and rubbing at his neck.

"Yes? You know who this man is?"

"No, Captain. But I know he hasn't spoken a word in two months. They even threatened to beat him, but he still made no noise. They gave him a few with the bamboo, didn't get a squeak. It's thought he's a mute, Sir."

Damnation! Skinner chewed at the bottom corner of his lip, frowning, face intent on the slave, still burdened with lengths of iron and obviously waiting for another blow from Mulder.

"That saves some time and effort. Good boy, go and tell one of the men I said to treat your throat."

"Thank you, Captain." The youth wandered off, and Skinner motioned for Mulder to turn the slave back around.

"If you can't talk, that makes you the perfect choice for a Captain's slave. Have him taken to my cabin. See that he's secured inside, but have the chains removed. I'll not have his filth on my sheets, I want him bathed and oiled, but he's not to be touched within. I'll flay any man that violates him."

Skinner saw that the eyes were turned down to the ground again, but the face paled slightly, then flushed, before the jaws locked. At Skinner's last words, the brows drew together, and he caught the eyes peeking up at him, shielded by those impossible lashes.

"Feed him, watered rum by a fourth, and treat any wounds. That's all."

"Aye, Sir." Mulder gave a small bowing nod and turned away, taking the slave with him.

Skinner watched the lean muscles as they walked away, noting the grace of a man of leisure, despite the tattered remains of his breeches. A mute nobleman of unknown origins, held and treated as a slave. Skinner ran a hand over his face, wishing again that he'd never accepted this royal invitation to hell. Still, in his Majesty's Navy, one obeyed or one suffered, and this assignment did have its advantages.

His eyes found the lean form of his First Mate. A small grin appeared as Skinner pondered the heavy truth of that title. Yes, playing the pirate was much more tolerable when he could openly bed his former First Officer. The pirates were no strangers to sodomy, actually preferring to take their sport and companionship with another man, to having the bad luck and dangerous implications of a woman aboard. In their regular service, Skinner and Mulder hadn't so much as dared a conversation with the door closed. Now, as the Pirate Captain Walter 'The Bear' Skinner and his First Mate William Mulder, alias 'The Fox', they could fuck on the foredeck, did the urge arise, and no one gave a crucifix, so long as they didn't dirty the deck.

Skinner's smile faded as he realized that he was being covertly watched by a pair of bright green eyes. The man might not be able to speak, but he could damn sure think, and there was danger in every inch of him, former gentle breeding notwithstanding. Skinner watched as he was led away, and when Mulder was standing beside him again, muttered quietly, "He's going to be trouble, mark my words. Don't take any chances with him, Fox. He's not safe."

"Yes, Captain." The voice was concerned, and after a quick look around from habit, Skinner turned, smiling at his beloved. A quick kiss, and he motioned Mulder to go, sending him off with a wink and a proprietary slap on the behind. Mulder's full mouth quirked, but he only set about his duties. They both knew there would be time for pleasure later.

###

Later was sooner than they had hoped. With the governor secured and the former slaves having released any noble wanting to leave, provided their wealth remained behind, the situation rapidly resolved itself. Skinner commandeered a large ship for the refugees, and sent them off. He'd follow on his own ship, guarding his cargo from the safety of the smaller vessel. His ship, the 'Mariner', was fast and deadly, small enough to maneuver easily, and large enough to support meaningful cannon.

Now, as he neared his cabin, he heard the distinct sound of a scuffle. He'd just arrived in the doorway when the door flew open, and the slave, leaping through it, knocked him to the ground. Luckily for Skinner, he'd been on alert from the sounds, and now he grasped as he fell, catching the man's waist and taking him down, too. The slave, not expecting the doorway to contain the Captain, wasn't on guard, and he landed heavily, the breath leaving him in a silent whoosh. Skinner dragged him back into the cabin, dropping him to the floor before locking the door and checking on Mulder.

"Are you alright, Fox?" His First Mate was sitting on the floor, rubbing at his eyes. His shirt was spattered, and the scent of rum was obvious.

"I'm fine, he did me no harm." Skinner brought a wet cloth from his dressing table, and Mulder washed his eyes carefully, then looked up. He was more chagrined than hurt, Skinner could see this, and relaxed a bit.

"What happened?"

"I opened the door and he was sitting on the stool. It looked like he was crying, and I went to check on him. He threw his rum in my face, grabbed the keys that were still in my hand and shoved me down. I'm not hurt, except for my pride. I'm sorry, Walter. You told me to be careful around him and I wasn't. He just looked so lost...I let my emotions lead my head, Captain, and as a result the man nearly escaped. I apologize for my lapse, and fully accept the consequences of my actions." Both men were standing now, and Mulder had taken a formal stance, face glum, but sincere.

"Yes. I will have to punish you, Fox, but later. Right now, I think we have a young man that needs to learn the rules, and what manner of man he's dealing with. Stand up, boy."

The slave had remained where Skinner had thrown him, and now he slowly stood to his feet.

"One of the men told me that they called him the Rat, because he was always just staring at them from the corners, and always silent."

"Is that true, boy? Do they call you that?"

There was no response, the eyes locked on the floor. Passive, and yet the fury was clearly simmering just under the surface. Taking a deep breath and praying for patience he knew wasn't coming, Skinner tried again, reminding himself that there was no telling what the young man had been through.

"Look, boy, I know that's not your real name. If you tell me your real name, I'll gladly use it, but until then, I must have some way to refer to you. Now, is that what they called you?"

A faint nod, and encouraged, Skinner pressed on.

"Good. Now, does the name bother you?" The eyes rose a fraction, confused, and more gently, Skinner asked again. "Will it bother you if I call you Rat? If the name hurts you, I'll call you something else, I have no desire to bring back unpleasant memories. So, is it acceptable for me to call you Rat?"

Another nod, not as faint this time, and the young man was back to thinking, god help them all.

"Very well, Rat. There are things we must have straight between us, and now. This is my ship, I am Captain here, Fox is my First Mate. I am a fair man, or try to be, and I am not cruel. But I will not tolerate disobedience, not from anyone. Your desire to be free does you much credit, Rat, as does the fact that you did nothing harmful to Fox in your attempt at escape. But just as he will be punished later for failing to heed my words, so will you be punished now. Not for cruelty, nor for vengeance, but to teach you quickly how things will be. You are not my slave, Rat. I do not own others. You are a passenger on this vessel until such time as I can set you safely free. Now, doubtless you have noticed that you are on a pirate ship. There are no passengers of leisure on such a ship, and no place for rebellion. You are in my cabin because I didn't trust the other nobles, and quite frankly, you are a handsome young thing and my men would make great sport with you, green eyes be damned."

The young man was listening to Skinner with such intensity that Mulder could almost hear it. He was cleaning up, drawing on a fresh shirt, and dabbing at his eyes with the towel. The rum had been heavily watered, so the stinging was almost gone. He was lucky the man hadn't cracked his skull open with the mug. Sighing as he realized again that he deserved the hiding he was going to get later, Mulder turned his attention back to Rat.

The body was tense, but the shoulders had lowered a fraction, and strong white teeth were pinching at a full bottom lip. It was obvious that the young man was weighing Skinner's words carefully.

"I need no trouble with your family, whomever they might be. It is therefore my intention to deliver you relatively unharmed to the nearest port with a working government outpost, that you may be returned to your home. In the meantime, you will earn your passage as cabin boy, and as general labor on this ship. You will obey me, you will obey Fox in my absence. You will cease trying to escape. To do so is not only dangerous, it is unnecessary, as your eventual freedom is assured. I will protect you, Rat, but to do that, I require your cooperation and your obedience, just as I demand from every man on this vessel. Is that clear?"

A long pause, and then the green eyes came up, meeting Skinner's without a flinch. A definite nod this time, the head moving twice up and down.

"Good. Then there's only the matter of your punishment. Take it well, without a fuss, and it will go better for all, especially you, Rat. Come here, boy."

A swallow, and then the shoulders squared and the young man moved to stand in front of Skinner.

"Well done." Skinner meant it: Rat might be frightened, but he was no coward. Sitting down on the bunk behind him, Skinner quickly drew the compact form across his lap. He felt the muscles tremble, saw the hands clench to fists, but there was no fight. Rewarding the brave compliance, Skinner only administered a dozen hard cracks of his hand to the taut backside, not sparing his arm, but not being brutal, either. Rat remained silent, only the shifts in his breathing telling of his discomfort.

"I am not your Master. But I am in charge here, Rat, and you will obey me, is that clear between us, boy?"

A slightly begrudging nod, and Skinner knew the lesson had been learned. He stood the boy up.

"Fair enough. I suggest you retire for the evening, it's been a long day and you must be tired. You will find a bedroll and blankets in that small chest on the far wall. The chamber pot is next to it. Dismissed."

With a final look of faint confusion, the younger man moved to make his bedspace. Skinner sighed, then held out his hand to Mulder without a word. The First Mate came to him at once, pausing only long enough to pick up a small, thin cane from a hook beside the door. He unbuttoned his breeches and pushed his clothing down to mid-thigh before giving Skinner his hand. The long form was soon stretched across the only recently vacated lap, and the cabin rang with the sound of Skinner's hard palm on the naked rear.

Rat was now stretched out on his side, facing away, but he was fully aware of the punishment taking place behind him, and knew it to be more serious than his own. He counted over two dozen, before the sounds changed. A pause, and then a light swish and thwack, followed by a muffled grunt. Rat chanced a quick peek, and saw a second lick of the cane. It was mild, doing no more than reddening the skin, not even leaving a welt. Relieved, Rat turned back over, waiting for the sound of more licks, but they didn't come. There was no more spanking, only quiet murmurs and what he thought was kissing.

A few minutes more, and he could hear the men behind him moving around the cabin. A motion near him made him roll over, and he saw Mulder, face still flushed, tying a rope off onto a hook set high in the wall.

Mulder, seeing the fearful gaze, spoke quietly, voice a bit subdued. "Don't worry, we aren't about to tie you up. I'm hanging a line, nothing more." Mulder moved to the far wall, tying the rope off onto another hook. He then picked up a blanket, and draped it over the line. A soft cloth wall now gave them privacy, and Mulder adjusted it a little more, before saying softly, "Goodnight, Rat. No hard feelings."

The First Mate moved away, and before long, the lamps were blown out and the cabin was dark and quiet, except for two men making love, and a third one thinking loudly.

###

The morning brought fair skies and an introduction to the ship for Rat. Skinner himself led the boy down, introduced him to the crew in the mess, made it clear he was under Captain's graces, and left him with Mulder. The First Mate gave him a full tour of the ship, went over the schedule for meals and such, and gave him a list of chores to be completed. After being assured that he was fully understood, Mulder left.

Rat took a bowl of gruel, eating breakfast hungrily. He'd not been starved, but food had been carefully rationed, and the warm spoonfuls felt wonderful in his stomach.

Once he was back in the Captain's cabin, having only made two wrong turns, he began on the list, grateful that he was being allowed to work unsupervised. It let him think, and he had much to think about. As he stripped the mattress, Rat decided to remain, for a bit. Things seemed fair, and if he was being taken to his freedom, it made sense to accept this place and his duties for awhile. It wasn't bad, he'd been well treated, the previous night's punishment included. On the island, he'd seen the men flogged with the split bamboo, heard the horrible sounds as flesh and men broke under the thick canes.

Shaking his head, he recalled the relief of discovering he was only going to be spanked. Granted, the Captain had a heavy hand, and Rat had no doubt that if provoked , the Captain would dole out more than a dozen on principle, but still, it was no more than discipline. Rat rubbed idly at his thigh, where a faint pale streak showed the scar from a cane blow. He'd been lucky to have only gotten three mild strokes from his captors, no anger behind them, so they'd only made small bloody welts on his thighs, rather than deep cuts. Rat's eyes found the slender cane the Captain had used on Mulder last night. Again, mild, very mild, and small enough to require genuine effort to do serious damage. It was promising.

The sound of the door opening behind him brought him out of his musings, and he saw that it was Mulder. The First Mate looked around, and gave an approving smile.

"You've started well, Rat. The Captain will be pleased." Mulder had a bundle in his hand, and he held it out now. "One of the men is about your size. He'll trade you these clothes for some laundry service. Shall I tell him it's a deal?"

Rat looked at the shirt. It had the sleeves missing and was a bit big, and the pants would be a bit snug. Still, it was better than what he had, and it would be a relief to not be half-naked. Rat nodded, trying to let his thanks show.

"You're very expressive. I've no trouble at all understanding you, even without speech. Very well, I'll tell Jacobs. He'll drop the rest of his clothing by here, and you can take them to the kitchens. Cook will show you where we do our wash. Understood?"

Rat nodded again, and Mulder left, another approving look around the cabin. Rat, reluctantly admitting to himself that he was pleased, went back to work.

###

That night, when Skinner returned to the cabin, he gave it a full inspection. Rat stood by, calm on the surface, but there was tension in the spine that belied his placid demeanor.

"Well done, Rat. This exceeds expectation." Skinner lightly clapped him on the shoulder, and turned back to Mulder. Feeling even more pleased than he had been by Mulder's praise, Rat settled himself on his bedroll.

On the other side of the blanket, he could hear Skinner and Mulder talking. They were discussing the passage and the weather and other ship's business. Mulder listened, hands busy working on a pile of mending he'd been given.

Rat started when he was called several minutes later.

"Rat, take this above and give it to Mason, he's at the helm right now." Rat took the folded note, and left at once. When he was gone, Mulder poured Skinner a measure of rum.

"So, what have you learned about our mysterious passenger?" Mulder's task had been to row over to the other vessel and see what information they could gather.

"Not much, I'm afraid. He's not a member of any of the families, no distant kin. No one seems to know him. A few people recall seeing him just before the insurrection, but he was alone even then. He seems to have been caught up, an innocent with the bad luck to be high born and wealthy. The wrong place at the wrong time. Someone said they thought his real name was Alex, that they'd heard the innkeeper mention a new man in town, but Alex was all they could remember. He fought, but not like the nobles. Seems he was willing to obey and bide his time."

"That makes sense. Anything else?"

"Yes. If he is this Alex that the innkeeper spoke of, then he's from Veritas."

Skinner's brow rose.

Veritas was the name of a small country to the north. It was a cold region, with mountains and snow, but not harsh, the short spring and summer providing enough of a growing season for its people. The natives did tend to have brown hair and green eyes. Still, that was a very long way from the near tropics they were in now.

"Good work, love. We'll ask him when he returns." Skinner reached out, drawing Mulder to him and kissing the taller man with deliberate slowness, hands roaming down the lean back to cup the rounded backside. Mulder moaned with the pleasure, and unashamedly rubbed his growing cock along Skinner's groin.

"Greedy, aren't you, m'boy?"

"For you, always. Oh gods, Walter, make love to me, please?" Skinner's teeth were latched firmly onto the side of Mulder's neck, and the skin tasted of salt spray. He could feel the thrum of Mulder's pulse under the skin as he suckled, leaving a large love bruise on the pale flesh.

"Onto the bed, beloved. I'll fetch the ointment."

Mulder began all but ripping his clothes off, and threw himself face down onto the bed. Skinner had just stripped off his shirt, hanging it neatly on the chair, when Rat came back inside. At the sight of Mulder lying naked and aroused, the face turned scarlet, and the young man hurried to the other side of the blanket wall. Skinner motioned for Mulder to wait a moment, then spoke quietly from near the edge of the blanket.

"Our apologies, Rat. We are unused to sharing a cabin, and more unused to caring who sees what onboard this ship. No offense was intended, nor did we mean to make you uncomfortable. We'll try to remember to lock the door from now on, or ask you to visit the upper decks."

With that said, he turned back to his lover. Rat, on the other side, got back to work, but was distracted by the sounds coming from the other side. He'd long known he was attracted to other men, and despite having charge of him now, Rat had to admit that both men were handsome. His own arousal he ignored, modesty and genteel raising ensuring he could do nothing more. When the sounds were finished, having reached a loud and dramatic crescendo, Rat gave them a few moments more, then knocked softly on the wall near the blanket's edge.

"Enter." The voice was sated but clear, and Rat saw that Skinner was lying in bed, breeches fastened, shirt still off. Mulder was draped in the sheet, and lying in Skinner's arms, dozing.

Rat had a moment's envious pang, then pointed to the ceiling, requesting permission to go topside.

"You wish to go on deck?" At the nod, Skinner bit his lip, thinking. "Very well. But a few moments only. It's not completely safe there. Come back here, I need to speak with you."

Rat nodded, and made his way out quietly. Skinner felt the lean form in his arms chuckle, and he tilted the smiling face up.

"What amuses you?"

"You."

"And how do I amuse?" There was a lethargic tease in the voice, and Mulder moved to lie more fully atop his Captain. He smiled into the warm brown eyes, reaching out to kiss softly.

"You're the horror, the dangerous pirate Captain, the scourge known as The Bear. Other ships have been known to surrender just at the sight of your flag, and yet you're really quite the tender-heart, aren't you?"

"Don't tell anyone, I have a reputation to uphold, Sir."

"It shall be my greatest confidence. That and the size of your organ."

Skinner laughed out loud, and began tickling his First Mate.

###

On deck, Rat made his way cautiously to the rail. He wasn't quite used to the motion of the ship yet, but he wasn't sick either.

The air was brisk, but refreshing after being below so long, and he inhaled deeply. He savored the slight chill, loving how it felt to his heated skin. He hadn't felt cool, really cool in months now, and he missed it terribly. He resolutely put that thought aside, looking instead to the stars. He had an idea which direction they were headed, judging by the Dog Star, and he was encouraged by the knowledge. They were headed vaguely northwest, and that should take them to an outpost in a matter of weeks, while steering clear of the more dangerous smaller islands.

A movement to his right brought Rat's eyes around in that direction. A young man, roughly his own age, a member of the crew, was standing a few feet away. Rat tensed, seeing the lustful gaze travel him. He was still recovering from the pawing he'd undergone when they'd made him a slave, having been fortunate to be spared all but groping and stroking, his owner not interested in him much, too afraid of the green eyes, the first he'd ever seen. Now, looking at the seaman drawing nearer, Rat could tell superstition wouldn't save him this time. He moved to a defensive posture, and the man chuckled.

"Relax, grassy-eyes. Being flayed by the Captain's no easy thing to risk. I'll not force you to anything. But the Bear never said we couldn't seduce you. You come willin' like, he'll spare me the lash. What say, fancy a tumble?"

Face now a bright red, Rat shook his head violently, hoping the tremble would be put off to anger. The crewman shrugged, and cupped himself in one rope roughened hand. "Your loss, mate. Do you change your mind, you'll find me below." A wink, and the man laughed as Rat quickly made his way back to the Captain's cabin.

He knocked softly, and Mulder's voice bade him enter. They were up and dressed, looking over a map set up on a small desk. Skinner paused Rat as he was going past, holding up a hand, while he marked with a small pencil, then standing up straight and standing in front of the former slave.

"Alex."

Skinner said it flatly, and the boy's eyes widened, flickered with a mix of fear and hope, and then hid themselves behind the long sooty lashes in a move that Skinner was becoming very familiar with.

"So, your name is Alex, and you are the newcomer at the inn."

It was a flat statement, but Skinner expected a response. When he didn't get one, he reached around and patted the swell of Alex's rear.

"Answer me, boy, I won't ask you twice." Alex swallowed, and then gave a faint nod, teeth gripping his bottom lip. "Better. And you come from Veritas, do you not?"

Another pause, too long, and Skinner placed a light warning slap on the rump. It brought a nod, and Skinner turned back to the map.

"Can you show me your port on the map? We should reach a settlement in a couple of weeks, I can arrange for your passage home."

Alex hesitated, and Skinner gave a low sound of annoyance, but he was curious, too.

"I do not understand this defiance. It makes no sense to me, boy, why you would offer such resistance to help. You are very bright, I know, so it is not ignorance that holds your tongue. Are you merely obstinate?"

To Skinner's surprise, Alex shook his head.

"Perhaps you enjoyed your time across my knee, and seek to repeat the experience?"

Alex's face flushed a deep red, and he shook his head more violently, anger easy to see in his face and form.

"I have neither the time nor the patience for guessing games, boy. Think of a way to explain to me your reluctance, and do it quickly, or I'll have to assume you merely difficult."

Alex chewed at his bottom lip, then hesitantly, as though uncertain of the response, pointed to the sword hanging at Walter's side.

"My sword?"

Alex nodded, but knew the message remained unclear. He then moved to the wall, where a captured flag was stretched in a case, an appropriate decoration. He tapped the cover, and Mulder snapped his fingers, face showing comprehension.

"You don't wish to lead pirates to your home!" Alex looked relieved, and nodded. Mulder, very pleased with having made the connections, turned to Skinner with a smile. "That was rather good of me, wasn't it, Walter?"

Skinner, seeing again the nearly child-like innocent pleasure his First Mate took from doing well, allowed a warm smile in return. "It was excellent deduction, Fox. I thank you for your help." Alex nodded, his own way of thanking the man.

"You're welcome, both of you." Blushing faintly, Mulder turned back to the map. "But if you can't show us a port at Veritas, could you get us close enough to see you home?"

Alex bit his lip, shrugging to show he wasn't sure. He moved to the map, careful to see if it was allowed, and then pointed gladly to a spot just below his country. It was a common port, and many ships sailed from there to Veritas, it would be simple enough to get transport.

After studying the position, Skinner and Mulder nodded. It was more than doable, they'd heard of the port themselves, despite it being far north. There would be no trouble finding a ship to go there.

"Very good, Alex. Dismissed."

Alex moved along, sighing his relief. He'd not been looking forward to punishment, not when he sensed he was making Skinner angry. He listened absently as they planned the course, his hands reaching for a pile of mending. Alex was skilled with needle and thread, and he'd managed to work a trade with a couple of the men that had seen him working on the Captain's shirts. He'd been paid with a tiny pearl, set on a thin gold wire. It wasn't worth much money, nearly none, but Alex had liked it, and now, it was about to grace his left ear.

The first thing that had happened to him, once the slaves had taken over and captured him, was that his ear had been pierced in the manner of the slaves. A double loop of iron had been hung from his ear, pulling it painfully until it had healed. Now, knowing that he was going to be freed, Alex had decided to keep the hole opened. The lobe was marred already: even did he let it close, it would be visible to the eye that he'd been pierced. Better to adorn it by his own choosing, than have people gawk in secret.

Removing the iron loops, Alex gave his lobe a gentle rub, then slipped the gold wire through, being sure to curl the back of the wire into a hook, so as not to lose it. He gave a gentle series of tugs, and found it secure, the pearl dangling just below his earlobe.

Satisfied, he saw to the chamber pots and washed up, before going to see to the Captain's supper.

###

The days passed easily. Alex took his duties seriously, and performed them well, earning him praise from both Mulder and Skinner. He grew fond of the men, hearing them, seeing them so at ease with one another, enjoying their company, if voyeuristically, from behind the blanket. There were small moments throughout the day when they shared company as well, and Alex knew he was beginning to fall in love, no matter how he might fight it with busy work and staring out at sea.

The crew had stopped panting after him at every appearance, and he was allowed on deck for longer periods now, but mostly still in the daytime. But only when either Skinner or Mulder was above deck. If Alex was going to be up for more than a moment, he had to be under their protective gaze. It bothered him, but he obeyed. He did his duties, never complained and never shirked.

It wasn't easy, the work was hard, the rations carefully controlled, and he didn't like the sailing itself. Still not sick, he knew it could be worse, but he was uneasy on the water, and looking forward to having solid ground underneath his feet. It was somehow better when he was topside, and could see the sky. With that in mind, he'd slipped out, intending to stay only a moment.

But Alex spent much longer than a moment, caught up in the air and the blue of the sky above him. It was only when the ship's bells rang, that he realized how long he'd been gone. He was just leaving to go back to work, when he noticed one of the crew watching him. The man swayed as he walked toward Alex, and Alex knew he was drunk. He was in a corner, and the only way out was past the sailor. Mentally swearing at his own foolishness, Alex braced himself.

The man stood close, much too close, and his breath made Alex gag, when he hissed into Alex's face.

"Well, the Captain's pretty kitty's come out to play. Tell me, do you whore yourself for just the Captain, or does the First Mate get a turn as well?"

Alex said nothing, but tried to get past. Hands, strong and cruel, closed on his arms, and despite inebriation, Alex knew he wouldn't be able to shake the hold. Biting his bottom lip, Alex dropped his eyes, having learned this would often end a fight before it began. It didn't work this time.

"You don't fool me, boy, with your witch's eyes, always watchin'. You go back and tell many a tale, don't you, lad? Was it you that told the Captain I'd been into the coils?" Into the coils was ship speak for slipping off to nap in the huge coils of rope stored near the bow.

Alex shook his head, but the crewman only gripped tighter.

"Aye, you're a lying little cockwhore, I've seen your kind in the brothels. You're near eager enough to make a man pay for the privilege, aren't you, boy?"

"If he were, I doubt you could afford him, Johnson." The voice was cold, deep and hard, and Alex felt a wash of relief go through him, as he saw the Captain step out of the shadows.

The crewman immediately let him go, and Alex wasted no time in moving past.

"To my cabin. I'll be along shortly." There was no need to say what would happen once he arrived, but Alex only nodded, and all but ran.

Mulder was waiting inside, and looking worried.

"Were you topside, this whole time?" Alex nodded, and Mulder looked disappointed in him, besides concerned. His eyes wandered to Alex's upper arms, where clear fingermarks were turning a purple-blue. Mulder took up a wet cloth, and carefully began to bathe them. "Are you alright?"

Alex nodded, wincing as Mulder now applied some antiseptic to a few places where Johnson's nails had broken the skin. When he'd finished, Alex swallowed hard, and then moved to the hook by the door, picking up the cane. He'd just knelt down on the floor by the chair, when Skinner came inside, glaring daggers.

He paused when he saw the kneeling form, the bent head, and the cane that was now being held up for Skinner in the palms of Alex's hands. He looked at Mulder who shook his head, shrugging, and then turned back to Alex.

"Look at me, boy." Alex did, and his shame and regret were easy to see in the dark green depths.

"You're sorry." Mulder said it quietly, almost talking to himself, but it carried, and Alex nodded, trying to convey his acceptance of his wrong doing. Skinner looked at him thoughtfully for a long time, then relaxed.

"Good. You understand the situation, I see." Alex nodded, and Skinner took the cane from him. "Stand and drop your clothing."

Skinner seated himself in the chair as Alex obeyed quickly, and then drew the young man over his lap. Alex, blushing at being exposed, didn't fight at all, knowing this to be a much deserved punishment, and trusting Skinner to be fair.

"Alex, you were lucky today. You might not be so fortunate next time. If I must, I will forbid you from going up at all. I have no wish to do that, but I will keep you safe, is that clear?"

The nod was sincere, and Skinner tightened his hold, before bringing his palm crashing down on the pale flesh. By the time he'd walloped each cheek scarlet, Alex was panting harshly, squirming, if trying to remain passive and still. There was a pause, and Skinner raised the cane.

"This is very serious, Alex."

Alex sniffled, nodding clearly despite his aching backside. He braced himself for the cane, and a moment later, it licked at the underside of his bottom. The inhale was sharp, but it was barely a welt, only stung like hell. Two more followed in the same sensitive area, but not overlapping. Alex was gritting his teeth with the pain, but it was still much milder than it might have been, and he was thankful when Skinner drew his clothing back up, despite the hurt it caused.

"Never again, Alex. Am I understood?"

Skinner was looking deeply into his eyes as he demanded it, and Alex nodded, knowing it would make the tears begin to spill over. His lip trembled, and he sniffled hard, before wiping at his eyes with his hand.

"Dismissed." Alex moved quickly to his own side of the blanket, lying on the floor and letting the tears fall.

Several moments later, there was a soft knock.

"Alex? May I come back?" It was Mulder, and Alex reached out, pulling the blanket to let him know it was okay. He came in, a tray in his hand. "I brought you some salve. Will you let me treat you?"

Mulder's voice was gentle, and Alex knew the man was sincere. He thumbed his pants down, wincing slightly. Mulder drew them down to mid-thigh, and reached to the tray. Picking up a cold cloth, he lay it across the welted area. Alex gasped at the cold on his overheated and sensitive skin, and Mulder's hand rubbed soothingly up and down his back.

"I know, I know, shhh. It'll feel better in a moment, I promise." Alex relaxed back onto the floor, pillowing his head on his crossed arms. "He took no pleasure in that, Alex. He isn't that kind of man. Skinner will do what he must, as Captain and as a pirate, but it is duty only that moves him to be harsh, duty and responsibility. And care. That is small comfort when you're suffering a sore bum, but it's true as well."

Alex closed his eyes, sighing softly.

"And I care for him, Alex, so I'm going to scold you, just a bit. Don't make his duty more unpleasant than it has to be. I would not see him suffer for your disobedience. Are we clear, Alex?"

Alex nodded, and then Mulder was soothing a thick ointment into the throbbing skin, carefully easing the pain with a surprisingly light touch. It cooled, it soothed, and Alex gave another sigh, more heartfelt.

"There. You'll be a little tender in the morn, I'd not count on sitting comfortably until the day after, but then you should be healed."

Alex rolled onto his side, wanting to say so many things to Mulder, and unable to do so. He settled for picking up one graceful, long-fingered hand, and kissing the back of it.

Mulder smiled at him, an easy warm smile.

"Try to rest. No hard feelings, Rat." It was a tease, and Alex managed a smile, knowing he was understood and forgiven.

Later that evening, when he came back from taking the dinner dishes, Skinner paused him.

"I am not angry with you. I would have you know that." Alex managed another smile, this one a bit chastened around the edges, and Skinner patted his shoulder, before turning back to his work.

Alex was relieved to see that neither man bore a grudge. The next day he was treated as normal, and if he ate his meals standing, no one said anything. Alex was, indeed, healed by the following day, and he determined to never disobey Skinner again.

###

It seemed he would be successful. They had sailed another month nearly, the weather having been trickier than expected at first, and had slowed them somewhat. Now, as they made their way across the last difficult channel, another vessel came into sight. Alex had been on deck, and now, Skinner pulled the glass away from his eye, swearing loudly, even as Mulder came running up, panting out a report.

"It's the 'Injustice', Sir. I saw Kersh himself on deck, and they've got their guns out."

"Prepare for battle, all hands to stations!" Skinner called orders fast and hard, pausing only long enough to send Alex below. "There'll be a fight, boy, I don't want you involved in it. Go to the cabin, lock yourself in. You know where my extra cutlass is?" Alex nodded, unashamed. "Good, find it and be ready to use it. Get under the bed and stay there until Mulder or I come for you. If no one comes, wait until all's quiet and make your way off ship as best you can. Am I understood? You stay in that cabin and lock the door behind you, Alex. Go!" Skinner sent him off with a swat, and Alex immediately did as he was told.

Soon, the sounds of battle were unmistakable. Alex, not feeling safe under the bed, was nonetheless hidden behind a chest, cutlass held in his hands. He listened as the sounds grew louder and closer. They were boarded, and soon from the hallway and stairs came the sound of swordplay, and the occasional fire of a pistol.

In the thick of it, he suddenly heard Skinner shouting, "Get to Mr. Mulder! Get to him, quickly!"

"We can't, Sir, they've got him trapped below!"

Alex swallowed hard, but knew what he had to do. Sending a quick silent prayer above, Alex moved to the door, opening it as quietly as he could, and peering out just a crack.

Mulder was trapped indeed, his back to a wall, with two strange men both fighting him at once. The swords rang and sparked, so fast and furious were they flying, but Alex knew Mulder couldn't hold the pace much longer. The stairwell was blocked by a fallen timber, and Alex saw he was the only hope.

Stealing out as quietly as possible, he came up behind the men, willing Mulder not to give him away with a glance, but Mulder was too busy focusing on flashing steel to see beyond it. Alex crept up and brought the hilt of the cutlass down hard on the head of the nearest man. He slumped immediately, unconscious, and Mulder took the opportunity to disarm his opponent, before similarly knocking him out.

"Good work, Alex. My gratitude." Mulder was already moving back to the stairwell, and Alex helped him move the fallen timber to one side, enough to let a man pass. Alex followed him up the stairs, figuring he was already involved. The fighting was just finishing up, and now Alex watched as Skinner pressed a blade to the throat of a dark skinned man wearing a fancy shirt.

Soon, all the prisoners were safely locked away and the other vessel was secured for towing, a prize crew of Skinner's men aboard to run her and keep an eye on the prisoners. Then, and only then, did the Captain turn his attention to Alex.

Alex had seen the man scowling at him from above deck, and knew Skinner wasn't pleased at being disobeyed. Now, Alex stood in front of him, eyes respectfully on the floor, waiting.

"You were not where you were supposed to be, boy. Did I tell you to come on deck and join in the melee?"

Alex shook his head, wincing at the roar.

"No! I believe I told you to lock yourself in this cabin!"

Alex nodded, wondering if it were possible for a voice to be so deep and yet so very loud.

"When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed, Alex! I thought that was made clear to you."

Alex swallowed hard, nodding. Walter was standing in front of him now, hands on hips, looking furious.

"No, Walter! You can't punish him!" Mulder stepped in front of Alex, having come into the room from having a minor wound stitched. He'd jumped between them, and now Skinner turned his glare to his lover.

"Stay out of this, Mulder. I know you care for him, I do, too, but he could have been killed!"

"He saved my life, Walter!" That this was news was evident. The anger fled, leaving bewilderment in its place. Mulder continued, still maintaining his protective stance. "When they trapped me below decks, the stairs were blocked. There were two of them, Walter, and both better than me. If Alex hadn't come out to save me, I'd have been dead in another couple of minutes at the most. He helped me clear the stairs and then came up fighting. I owe him my life, Walter, as do many of the men. You can't punish him for being brave, loyal and willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of the ship and the men aboard it. It would be beyond hypocritical, beyond ungrateful, and I will not allow it."

At the last words, Alex tugged gently at Mulder's sleeve. He was moved beyond belief at the words of praise, never having had them applied to himself before, but he couldn't stand to come between the two of them. He boldly took one of each of their hands, and clasped them together over his heart, shaking his head slowly. Alex knew what he was saying, knew it was revealing too much, but it couldn't be helped. When he'd seen Mulder pinned behind the two swords, he'd known he was in love with the man. And seeing Skinner above deck, surrounded by smoke and blood, he'd felt his heart damn him again.

Looking from one of them to the other, he let his heart show, silently begging them not to fight, not over him. He loved them too much to be the cause of hurt feelings between them, and Mulder's ultimatum was inflammatory, at the least.

Skinner hesitated only a moment, before relaxing his stance.

"You're right, Fox, of course. Alex shouldn't be punished for doing what was right. My orders were well meant, but wrong. Forgive me, Alex, I meant no unfairness. And you have my utmost gratitude for saving Mr. Mulder's life. I owe you a debt with that gratitude, and you need only say to have it paid. And thank you, Fox, for showing me the error of my ways. I fear that there are times when emotion can turn even so bullish a head as mine." Skinner's mouth quirked at one corner, and Fox chuckled softly.

"You mean Bearish, don't you, beloved?"

With a broad smile, Skinner pulled Mulder to him, kissing him deeply. Alex had dropped their hands, and now he started to slip away, content to see them at peace again. He was stopped by a large hand on his arm, gently halting him.

Skinner looked deeply into his eyes, then reached out, kissing Alex briefly on his very surprised mouth. He then hugged the smaller man tightly, and left to check on the wounded. Alex's eyes were huge when they looked to Mulder, praying the man had taken no offense. He found instead that Mulder was now eyeing him warmly, and reaching out for him.

"I owe you also, Alex. And I will pay it gladly, in any coin you ask." Mulder then took his own kiss and hug, before leaving as well.

Alex stood frozen for many long moments, then began to smile. He made his way slowly back to his hammock, which Skinner had given to him a few days into the voyage, knowing that sleeping on the floor of a moving ship was nearly the same as not sleeping at all, and was soon sleeping peacefully.

###

It was the last bit of excitement. Within two weeks, they were nearing the government outpost. From here, they would arrange passage for Alex to the port of his choice, and from there he would arrange his own passage to Veritas.

Skinner presented him with a heavy money pouch the night before they arrived.

"It's yours, Alex. You were part of the crew when we captured the 'Injustice' and entitled to a share in the bounty, in addition to your wages. It should be more than sufficient to see you home, and even in some small measure of comfort."

Alex was still recovering from this kindness, when Mulder presented him with a small trunk.

"Open it, Alex." Heart thudding, Alex obeyed, finding three changes of clothing, and a pair of shoes. The green eyes showed their wonder, and Mulder confessed, "We went through the stores on the captured vessel. Seems they had taken a clerk prisoner sometime past. The man was gone but his luggage remained. It looked to be your size, and I took the liberty of acquiring it for you."

"One more thing, Alex." Here, Skinner held out his extra cutlass, in the gilded leather scabbard. "It's a rough world. You never know when you'll run into pirates and have to defend yourself."

Alex threw back his head, laughing without sound, his face glowing with gratitude. He tentatively reached out, and embraced each man, holding them tightly in their turn.

"You're welcome, Alex. There is one more thing we'd like to offer you, but you may refuse it with a clear conscience, and no fears of hurting our feelings, is that clear?" Alex nodded, and with a last look at Mulder, Skinner spoke quietly. "Our bed. We would like to invite you to join us, Alex, if only for a night. As I said, you need not accept, and we shall bear no ill will should you refuse. We both understand completely, and would not wish to make you feel uncomfortable in any way."

Skinner stopped there, and Mulder took over, eyes full of emotion. "Truth be told, we are not even sure if you look on men in such a way. But if you do, and if you would like, you would be most welcome. Not simply because we find you handsome, either, though we do. We care for you, Alex. These past two months, you have grown dear to us. Both of us. You need not answer. If you so desire, you have but to join us. If not, we shall see you in the morning, still firmly in our regard."

Alex wiped at his eyes, the tear having spilled over despite his best efforts. He kissed each man on the cheek, and then moved off behind the blankets.

Sometime later, with the cabin dark save for the moonlight shining through the deck prisms, Alex stripped off his clothing, and silently made his way out from behind the blankets. He moved quietly, but he knew that Skinner and Mulder would awaken, were they asleep.

He approached the foot of the bed, and after only a moment, the sheet was pulled down, and Skinner's voice reached him.

"About time."

Alex smiled, and crawled up into the bed between them. He was kissed and caressed. His body was mapped with fingers and tongues and he indulged in their similarities and differences like a man sampling a banquet. When the passion could no longer be denied, Skinner put a hand up to Alex's face, cupping the jaw lightly.

"Alex, sweet, are you virgin?" The nod was slow, and Skinner kissed him to reassure, then asked more softly, "Do you wish to remain so?" This time the head shook a negative, and Alex wrapped his legs around Skinner's waist, his arms around Mulder's neck.

"We won't both fit, Alex," Mulder teased softly, and Alex was glad the darkness hid his blush. "Will you trust us, Alex?" A nod, and Skinner reached for the ointment, even as Mulder rolled Alex onto his side. "Do to me that which Walter does to you, and you need not worry about doing anything wrong."

With that cryptic message, Mulder reached for the ointment, and began applying it to Alex's erection, before putting some on the man's fingers, and lying down beside him. They were loosely spooned, and when Alex felt a careful finger at his entrance, he realized what was to happen. Shaking with nerves, excitement and lust, Alex reached out, seeking the tight muscle hidden between Mulder's slender cheeks. Alex followed every move Skinner made, from adding additional fingers, to pausing, to scissoring, and soon, he was poised at the opening, his cock leaking with need, his body alive with wanting. It was not disappointed. Alex had no idea the levels of pleasure his body was capable of, but he was introduced to most of them the minute Skinner moved inside him, just as he moved within Mulder.

A long time later, after two men had howled as a third strained in silence, there was a hasty clean, and then they fell asleep in a tangled heap, happiness marred only by the knowledge that tomorrow Alex would be gone.

###

The clothes fit, the shoes fit well enough. Shortly after mid morning, Alex was standing on a pier, waiting his turn to board the ship that would take him away, take him one step closer to home. They had said their goodbyes aboard ship, knowing that the public wharf would be inappropriate, and now, with a brilliant smile, Alex waved to them both, and climbed aboard, waving to them from the rail until he was out of sight.

"Goodbye, Rat. Be happy." Mulder murmured it, and allowed Skinner to take him back to the ship.

###

SIX MONTHS LATER

"Captain, there's a gentleman to see you and the First Mate, as well. He was most insistent, Sir, said he had a message for you from a friend."

Skinner, busy checking the re-supply of his ship, gave an exasperated sigh, and beside him, Mulder swore softly.

"We shall never make it out of this port." Putting the list down, they both prepared to meet the man. They couldn't afford to snub a noble, not when they were playing both sides of the law, especially one that claimed to have information. With a forced calm and a fake smile they hid their distaste as the dandy was brought forward.

The suit alone was enough to put them off, a brilliant pale robin's egg blue in satin, and dripping with pure white lace. The stockings, too, were lace, and the heels on the shoes the highest Mulder had ever seen on a man, despite the current rage from Paris. The wig's white curls rested on the man's lapels, so long were they, and the hat and its appropriate peacock's feather hid most of the face.

"Good lord, are we supposed to be meeting a gentleman or a very confused woman?" Mulder's low mutter brought a stifled snort from Skinner, who agreed, despite reaching over to surreptitiously pinch Mulder's rear in warning. The young ensign was in front of them now, and carefully made the introductions.

"Captain Skinner, Mr. Mulder, may I present his lordship Sir Alexander Vitaly Krycek, only recently come to this port from his homeland of Veritas. Sir Krycek, this is Captain Skinner of the 'Mariner' and his First Mate, Mr. Mulder." At the name of the country, both Mulder and Skinner froze, looking more closely, but unable to see anything yet, as the man was making a deep bow, and the damn hat and feather obscured what the wig did not. Their hopes were dashed as a rich voice spoke from the hidden face.

"It is a great honor to be introduced to you both. I thank you for your time and patience."

"Yes, well, we are rather busy, your Lordship, so at the risk of being rude, I would ask that you please state your business and let us return to ours." Skinner's voice held hurt, easily heard, and the polite smile was gone with the disappointment.

"Of course, I know that you are a man that likes to see to business before pleasure. I will not take much time, gentlemen. I have a message for you, from a young man named Rat."

"Is he well? Did he arrive safely home, then?" Mulder could no longer hold back. The man had stood, but his face was still hidden from them, as he kept it tilted downward, and to one side, toying with the hilt of his sword.

"He is quite well. He arrived home safely, with no further adventures to speak of. It was a great relief to his family, you know. They'd given him up for dead, lost at sea. It seems he'd been making his way to the islands in hopes of expanding the family business there. It's their policy to scout such locations in secret before putting forth an offer, helps to avoid nasty surprises in the future. He was half-way to his destination, when he decided to stop at a pleasant little island where he'd heard they grew sweet cane. It was on the way, and a day's rest or two would be pleasant. His family had been thinking of growing cane themselves, and it would be a profitable side trip. You know the rest of the unfortunate story. He was a victim of fate, and his side trip turned into nearly three months of slavery. Still, he wasn't overly abused, and he wasn't victimized, so he counted himself fortunate. He was, however, furious at the situation, and made a solemn vow to himself in the name of his god, his country and his family name. It is this vow that he wishes me to share with you."

"We are most intrigued, Sir, pray continue." Skinner was tingling with a low grade awareness. He'd been watching the way the head and hands moved, and despite the gloves and hat, was sure that he knew this man, knew him well. Mulder, too, was trembling with the same knowledge.

"He vowed that he would control that which he could, without risking his life or chances of escape. He would not speak, would not answer as a slave to any man, nor make a sound at all, until he was again free, his own man, and his life returned to him. And so, he remained silent. He did not cry out when they beat him, nor when they pierced his ear." At this, the man's hands pushed back the wig on one side, revealing a small pearl on a thin gold wire. "He did not speak when asked his name, only answering to Rat, and to the shortened form of his full name, Alex." Now, the gloves came off, and though the nails were now clean and polished, the hands were familiar. "And he did not speak his heart, even when it was breaking with love, instead, letting his body and his eyes speak for him."

And now, the head was raised, the hat removed, along with the horrible wig. And the remembered veil of long dark lashes lifted, revealing the brightest green eyes Skinner and Mulder had ever seen. Both men gasped, though they'd known instinctively that this was their Alex, their beloved Rat, not a moment from their thoughts these long six months.

"But he would also have you know, that do you still want him, still care for him, you have but to ask, and he will come back to you, willingly, with full voice and no secrets. For he can now admit to you both that he loves you, and that he has since before the attack by the 'Injustice'. And though he has both money and position of his own, he will gladly put them aside for the chance to again serve his Captain, the First Mate and the ship. As a cabin boy or as general labor, he will clean, he will sew and he will obey your word as law or willingly suffer the consequences. These are the words I have been pledged to say. I shall await your response, gentlemen. Await it most eagerly, and with more terror than I knew in all my time as a slave. What say you, am I doomed to these ridiculous trappings of a civilized man, or shall I again take up the breeches and easy shirt of a pirate?"

Mulder was trying manfully not to cry, but his eyes told Alex wholeheartedly that his terms had been accepted. Skinner's eyes were warmer than the tropical sun they stood under, and a faint smile appeared.

"I think I shall have to take you back, Rat, if only to have the right to strip you out of that horrible suit and those obscene shoes."

Alex laughed, this time letting the sound escape his throat, and then his arms were around them and theirs around him, and the crew was looking at them as though they'd gone insane.

"Come, boy. I've a crew that can see to the ship. Let's get you back where you belong."

"And where would that be, my dearest Captain?" There was humor and teasing in the smoky voice, but delight and love as well.

Skinner didn't answer, only moved to grab Alex, lifting him bodily over his shoulder, and settling him there with ease, so Mulder answered for him.

"In our bed, of course. What shall I do with your hat?" Mulder had retrieved it from the ground, looking at it in distaste.

Skinner, his burden now settled to his satisfaction, in turn, answered for Alex.

"Throw it away, but pluck the feather from it first. I liked the sound of Alex's laughter." With a severe tickling imminent, Alex began to squirm. A firm hand landed lovingly on the tightly stretched seat of his breeches. "Hold still, boy, I've no desire to drop you without a mattress beneath you for comfort."

"Aye, Alex, besides, I'm enjoying the view." Mulder reached out, tickling at Alex's snub nose with the feather, eliciting a giggle.

"Oh, and Alex, one more thing you should know before we get back aboard ship."

"Yes?"

"We love you, too." Skinner said it clearly, uncaring who heard, and Alex sighed happily as he was carted onto the ship, to begin his new life with the men he loved.

(cue the music as the scene of a ship sailing into the sunset slowly fades to black)

THE END.

###

raven@aeneas.net

Title: The Captive—A Pirate-y Thingy
Author: Raven
Email: raven@aeneas.net
Pairing: M/K/Sk
Rating: R
Author's Notes: This can best be called a codpiece ripper. It's basically a costume-romance with delusions of grandeur and a pathetically absent presence of plot or any other redeeming qualities. It's not even got that much smut. If you still wish to read it, you should probably ask yourself why...
Spoilers: Yes, Gaby is a first-class spoiler, she spoiled me rotten with pics when she was here, and now I'm spoiling her back with fic. Hope you like it, it's all your fault anyway. [g] Other than that, no spoiling here, not that I'm aware of. Still, if it makes you feel more secure, assume all episodes. There.
Warning: Discipline, slavery flashback, very mild mention of torture, brief bondage, some very mild non-con (off- screen and only mentioned)
Notice to all sea-farers: I don't have a clue, I admit it. It's a spanking fic, accept and go on or delete and go on, either way, please don't yell at me. I know I'm wrong, but I'm mature and wise enough to be okay with that on a spiritual level. [g] Still, I apologize for all nautical naughties and errors. My bad, mea culpa.
Summary: Pirates, sort of. A slave is taken captive, sort of. Oh, heck, it's basically a pirate AU/pwp. I saw the pic by Theban Band and drooled. The pic is the summary.
Disclaimer: The characters within these stories belong to Fox, 1013, CC et al. There is no profit made or intended from these stories, and they should be considered as being for entertainment purposes only.

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