Out of the fog, the ghostly pirate ship Relentless sailed, black canvas fluttering like bats’ leather wings, sheets snapping like cats across the backs of the damned souls who sailed her. Timbers groaned like the moans of a young man who at this very moment suffered in the cabin of the ship’s vicious lieutenants. Cruel men they were, clever students of a wicked captain who preyed upon the prizes of every nation including his own. A huge reward crowned the head of Deadly Ned Pellew, Devil of the Deep. Suitable sums were offered for the proud, disdainful lives of his proteges, Whoratio the Hornblower and his demonic partner in crimes Arch Imp Kennedy.

Daylight seeped into the spacious cabin the young officers shared. They shared their toys too. A handsome blond lad with cloudy blue eyes, long limbs and a lean torso, lay stretched upon the hard oak deck of the cabin, pinioned spread-eagled, face down and naked. His backside was bright pink from the punishment he’d received the previous evening. His cheek was crimson for shame and more than a few bruises marred his white skin.

"Are you awake, Jackie?" Whorry asked. "Time you were up, you know."

"Do you think he’s dead?" Archie asked, giving their captive a nudge with his small neat foot.

"Oh, I hope not. We’re not finished with him yet."

There was a sharp rapping at the door. Whoratio raised his eyebrow. The Arch Imp frowned deeply. How hateful to have their morning fun spoiled by a call to duty. Yet, if the lookout had spotted a fat merchantman, they didn't want to miss out on that sort of bloody fun either. The knocking was louder the second time.

"Well, who is it!" Whoratio shouted.

A soft voice passed through the thin wood door panel. "It's me, sir. Able Seaman Matthews." A pause. "Beggin' yer pardon, sir, Capt'n wants yer, Mr. 'Ornblower, in 'is cabin. Coome quick, 'e said."

Whoratio muttered under his breath, "The old Seagoat'll come quickly enough."

Then he glared sharply at his sapphire-eyed companion who was smiling and licking his lips at the squirming naked body spread like a creamy banquet in their cabin.

"Won't Ned be enough for your breakfast, Whoratio?" Archie asked innocently.

"He's getting old and a little salty for my taste. I relish a slice of something fresh and sweet this morning. So, Archie, don't be greedy. Save me a piece of Jackie, if you please, my love."

"You needn't worry. I'll have him all tender, warmed and awaiting you."

"Our Jackie had better not be exhausted like last time."

In response, Archie exclaimed, "I'll submit myself for your pleasure if Jack’s not enough for you. You should never be ashamed of being a landsman. I love how you plough a furrow and milk the cow."

"And were you a miner? I'm still sore from your delving."

Archie patted the neat flat backside of his bunkmate. "I'll see what I can do for you when you return. Only, see the Captain's not kept waiting. He's primed with short fuses these days. If only we'd find a Frenchman. I think he'd like to try a French cabin boy for a change. What do you think?"

Whoratio made a sour face. He replied, "I'm the Captain's boy. Good English beef. No slimy Frogs for our Deadly Ned, I say."

A moaning arose from the shackled figure on the cabin floor. The Arch Imp turned his attention.

"I see Jackie is fair awake. Do you suppose he wants breakfast? I'll see what I can find to stuff in his mouth and stop his groans."

Archie bent to collect a silk scarf for a gag. At once, a hand patted his backside. Then, a slender length of arm snaked around Kennedy and strong fingers kneaded the round firm flesh of his buttocks. Reaching around, long slim fingers brushed Archie's hardening groin. A low chuckle. Archie turned into his shipmate’s embrace.

Their swelling organs touched as two sets of lips smote savage kisses. White teeth nipped golden skin and Kennedy clung to tall and lean Hornblower, both committing mutiny in their hearts.

At last Kennedy gasped, "You must go, Whoratio. The Captain will flay flesh from my bones for keeping you."

"And I couldn't bear it. I love your body too much." More kisses and lingering fondling. "Later then, eh?"

"Aye, Aye, sir."

The cabin door closed and Arch Imp Kennedy moved to stand over the prostrate form of Jackie Simpson.

"I've missed you, boy," the handsome young lieutenant said, licking his full rosy lips and tossing back his thick golden locks.

The fearful tensing of Jack's muscles was making Archie even harder. He knelt down and turned Jack's face toward him. The cloudy blue eyes were wet. The boy's mouth was slack and drooling in terror. Archie stroked the soft sandy hair. He petted the young lad's back. Then he pinched the tight bottom and mercilessly tickled the backs of Jack's knees. Finally, he ran light fingertips over the exposed soles of his captive's feet.

Writhing in his bonds, Jack cried out. "No! No more, please, sir!"

"Be silent!" Archie ordered. "Or you'll wake the whole ship."

Jack groaned again. Archie's hand slapped down hard on his firm backside. The young man's entire frame trembled from the stinging blow. Droplets of sweat trickled into the hollow of his spine. The entire surface of his skin became suddenly damp.

"You had better not piss yourself, Jack. Do you hear?"

The damp blonde head nodded. From his mouth gasped quick, ragged breaths. Then another low whisper.

"Please, Mr. Kennedy, sir. I beg you."

"You wish to please me?"

The head nodded furiously. The back arched and buttocks clenched. Jack raised his rump, and through one glassy eye he stared pleading for his tormentor to finish with him.

"Oh, no! Not yet, Jack. You've not told me your secrets yet."

There was a whimper. Then, a throaty cough.

Jack croaked, "Allow me to sit up. Only a moment. I'll talk."

Archie loosened the main sheets that held him in place. Jack sat up and coughed loudly. Archie handed him a cup of water.

"Out with your dirty little secrets, Jack," Archie whispered menacingly in his ear.

At once, Jack downed the cup of water. He sniffed loudly and wiped his eyes and mouth on his freckled arm.

In a high reedy voice he said, "I admit I fancy other boys. My mother made her living on her back and I saw Mr. Bracegirdle helping himself to the Captain's brandy."

"Oh Jack," Archie breathed in his ear. "Good Jack. You deserve a sweet for such information."

Kennedy took a small pot of honey and dripped some on his chest. He knelt within easy reach of Jack's warm, wet mouth. The honey covered Archie's taut nipples. Straining in his bonds, Jack began to lick hungrily. Now, Archie moaned. He thrust his chest out as Jack suckled the tender buds. In no time, Archie was trembling with pleasure.

The honey gone, Jack bowed his head. Then reverently, he kissed the glistening tip of Archie's cock. A swift thrust and Jack's throat was filled. Archie urged him to greater effort with a flood of threats if teeth scratched the lieutenant's tender weapon. Well practiced, Jack swallowed all his pride and with it, a gush of pearl liquid.

*************

At the same moment, Whoratio rapped his knuckles on the door leading to his captain’s sumptuous stern cabin. He waited a moment and then opened the door when he heard the familiar bellow that told him the captain’s permission had been granted. Behind him he heard the chuckle of the scarlet sentry.

Whoratio ignored him. The captain often employed the man when seizing and interrogating handsome captains and pretty officers taken from his many prizes. Never would the sentry be permitted to touch the first officer of the Relentless. Whoratio’s mouth curved into a smug smile. Despite all that was required of him, he was proud to be the captain’s personal domain.

Inside the luxurious bedchamber, Captain Deadly Ned Pellew lounged in his berth amid green and purple silks taken off a Moorish corsair. The room was loaded with trophies of other captures. Brilliant peacock feathers, a handsome and costly clock, tall, glittering mirrors, a shining silver tea service, and an exquisite set of crystal scent bottles in an ornately carved ebony rack. And near the bed, a selection of scented oils and carved ivory toys of a sexual nature that always enhanced their enjoyment of physical pleasures.

Whoratio’s smile became a grin. At this moment, how dearly he loved his Captain. How ready he was for him. Rumors might fly about the ship that Deadly Ned was growing old. They might whisper that it took his lusty lieutenant ever longer to perform his duty as first officer. Yet, Whoratio knew the truth. His beloved Captain was as lecherous as ever. Indeed, Whorato called him "Indefatigable"!

"Come here, my boy! I have something to show you," Pellew said in a rush of true excitement. "The price on your head has been raised to a thousand pounds! Mr. Kennedy will be jealous."

"He might turn me in, sir."

"Do you think so?" The Captain asked, frowning. Then he guessed that his first officer was teasing. He reached out and pulled him into bed, disrobing him at once.

"How is Mr. Kennedy," the Captain asked as he fondled his first lieutenant’s hard nipples.

"Well, sir," Whoratio said, trying not to groan and writhe just yet under his Captain’s expert hand.

"He did not remove your edge already this morning, did he?" the Captain asked, oiling an ivory phallus.

"No, sir," Whoratio groaned as he felt himself penetrated deeply.

"Lie back," the Captain instructed.

"Yesss, sssir," Horatio hissed, the pain and pleasure mixing inside him.

"I would be very much distressed if I learned otherwise, Mr. Hornblower," the Captain went on to say.

He drizzled more oil onto Whoratio’s chest and teased his nipples with a firm finger tip. Whoratio’s iron hard cock twitched and wept for attention. Slowly, the Captain ran his finger down his lover’s body, stopping a moment at the hollow of his navel. At the same time, his left hand moved the thick ivory phallus which time and again lightly rubbed the proper nerve inside the younger man. Whoratio gasped at each touch. His body was damp with sweat.

"Prepare to be boarded, Whoratio," the Captain whispered seductively into his lieutenant’s ear.

"Aye, aye, sir," he breathed, his face a grimace of passionate tension. His beautiful eyes squeezed shut.

Whoratio turned over. A warmer, silkier, but no less hard, instrument replaced the phallus. It, too, nudged against the source of his deep pleasure.

The Captain sighed as he anchored himself within his snug harbor. Then, his practiced and well-oiled hands reached around his lovely partner’s slim waist and in time with his thrusts, he stroked. He was a fine coxswain, maintaining a steady rhythm for what seemed a long time.

Whoratio grew breathless. His nerves tingled and his pulse drummed rapidly at his temples. He seemed consumed by the fires of his passion. Finally, he felt the liquid release of his lover. He heard the deep and grateful sigh. Whoratio’s heart leaped. He’d done his duty. Then he released his own seed, collapsing exhausted beneath his Captain.

A quarter hour later, a little blond cabin boy knocked timidly and was admitted to the great cabin. He carried a silver wash basin and towels. Whoratio, with adoring zeal, washed his Captain. Afterwards, the cabin boy rinsed down the First. Whoratio nodded his thanks and when the lad turned to go, he pinched the boy’s round bottom which put him in mind of Lieutenant Kennedy’s sweet and succulent golden globes. The boy scampered out and the men dressed.

"Will that be all, sir?" Whoratio asked Pellew as he finished tying his Captain’s neck cloth.

"I believe so, Mr. Hornblower. Joy of the day and I’ll see you after supper, if you’d be so kind," Pellew said, winking at his First who stood for his Captain’s inspection.

"Of course. This evening it is, sir," Whoratio said with a grin, a salute and a nod of his handsome head.

Closing the cabin door softly, ignoring the smirk on the sentry’s face, Whoratio hurried back to his own cabin. Inside, a low weeping could be heard. The right side of Whoratio’s mouth turned upward. Ah, Kennedy’s still at it and, no doubt, he’s hot as Perdition’s Flames. At the thought, Whoratio felt his cock twitch in anticipation. His fingers longed for the sure handholds of Kennedy’s full, round backside as he rammed home.

And what a pretty sight greeted Hornblower’s eye when he opened the door. Slender Jack rigged at the gratings, moist with sweat and blubbering like a child. Archie held a light bamboo cane in one hand and his starter in the other.

"I can’t decide which to use, Whoratio," he said, looking up at his friend which a demonic leer subtly twisting his angelic features.

"Let’s use them both!" Whoratio whispered. "I’ll cane his backside while you lash those long thighs. Agreed?"

"Aye, aye, sir!" Archie crowed, laughing and lashing out at the unprotected, pale and trembling flesh of Midshipman Jackie Simpson.

A dozen good whacks and Whoratio was as warm as his victim. He glanced at Archie and fell in lust immediately. Warm roses bloomed on his bare golden skin. His hair seemed like a halo around his shining face. Every part of him was full of the vigor of life even the heady scent of his sweat. His muscles flexed as he snapped the starter. In his nakedness, he looked the very image of Greek perfection--the young Achilles and Whoratio, his Patroclus.

Whoratio whirled and caught Archie under the arm. He bore him back onto his bunk and immediately began to ravish his rosy mouth. Instinctively, Archie raised his knee to defend his somewhat tarnished virtue. The sharp pain between Whoraio’s legs enflamed his passion even more. He pressed his hand down upon the offending joint and shoved his shipmate’s legs wide apart. Like a madman, Whoratio tore at the flap of his trousers and released the Krakken.

Archie gasped as he was speared. His nails dug into his friend’s shoulders and drew blood. Whoratio seemed like a wild beast tearing him open. Luckily, some of the Captain’s expensive oil still slicked Whoratio’s mighty harpoon and helped ease its passage. Even so, Archie twisted and fought like a gaffed marlin. Whoratio pressed his weight upon him and held him fast. All the while, still tied to the gratings, Jack begged and pleaded to be speared next. Whoratio and Archie ignored his whining entreaties.

Finally the two officers lay exhausted in one another’s arms. Whoratio remained buried deeply inside his friend. A slippery coating of Archie’s spending covered their naked bellies. Archie’s pale thighs were quaking, his muscles unused to their position spread widely over Whoratio’s shoulders. Archie was still gasping for breath. He’d nearly blacked out from being folded in half.

"Gads, you’re good, Kennedy," Whoratio whispered. "Want to sleep? Or shall we crack open Jack?"

Archie’s lips were bright red. His eyes a deep sparkling blue like the deep Pacific. He said, "You should rest, lover. The Captain’s going to want you back this evening, isn’t he? I wouldn’t want him to learn that I’d kept you from your rest. I’ll see to Jack."

"You don’t mind if I watch, do you?"

"Be my guest, sir."

Whoratio watched from beneath his long thick lashes the slow and subtle torment of Jackie Simpson. Everyone agreed that the Arch Imp Kennedy practiced for his future role in the Abyss beside the likes of Diabolus and Beelzebub. He should have been born a Spaniard, Whoratio mused. The Inquisition would have appreciated his talent in the torturer’s arts.

Archie began by untying Jack from the gratings and then spreading him face up on the table. His back was bent cruelly and his legs were spread wide completely exposing his pulsing and weeping organ. The man was weeping too, openly sobbing, sniffling and half choking on his drool.

"Come on, Snotty," Archie said rather cheerfully. "Only an hour or so before you go on watch. We’ll be finished just in time."

Simpson blubbered on. Then suddenly he cried out in pain. Archie had picked up one of the purser’s dips. With great precision, he had poured a droplet of the melted wax on Jack’s right nipple. The captive writhed in his bonds. His back arched, and then he sank down heavily, only to rise again as the second droplet fell on his left nipple.

Jack coughed and choked like a man drowning. Archie put down the candle and helped Jack sit up enough to get his breath. He patted his head and asked him kindly if he was better. Jack nodded his head. At that moment, Archie lifted the dip and its lake of the melted wax above the purple head of Jack’s cock. Jack’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. No sound issued from his open mouth. His entire frame was rigid, like a man in a seizure.

Archie grinned. He enjoyed frightening Jack more than giving him pain. He set the candle down on the table again and cupped his victim’s balls, one in each hand. Jack’s eyes were shining with tears. He shook his head. He swallowed and gasped for air.

Whoratio watched his fiendish friend squeeze the delicate orbs with curious gentleness. Jack’s cock was hard as iron and pulsing. After a moment, he gave a great cry. He exploded like a geyser, his essence jetting out and splashing Archie’s chest. It mingled with the previous effusions. Archie continued to smile and fondle his captive.

When Jack sank back into complete exhaustion, Kennedy shook him sharply. "Shake a leg, down and out," he shouted.

Jack leaped up jerking hard on the ropes that bound him, straining every joint. Of course the effort brought peals of laughter from both lieutenants. When they were once again in control of their mirth, Whoratio continued to watch while Kennedy untied Jack.

"Sit up, Jack," he commanded gently. "Clean up the mess you’ve made. Hurry, before anyone sees it."

Jack sat up and began to lick Archie’s chest and stomach. He was instructed to pay particular attention to the hardening nipples. He was not to neglect the armpits nor the hollow of Archie’s navel. Finally, Jack was rewarded with Archie’s cock. Archie moaned with pleasure, but before Jack could finish Whoratio pulled him away. Whoratio wanted the sweet for himself.

Young Jackie had been tossed aside. He wept bitterly all the while he pulled together his scattered clothing. Finally, he shrugged into his little midshipman’s jacket. His heavily lidded eyes were red from weeping, his face as puffy as a boy’s who’d been slapped for having a loose tongue.

Archie fell back into his hanging cot after Whoratio finished him off. He drew up a blanket and dozed off immediately. Whoratio patted his golden head and pinched his apple cheek. Then he whirled around and glared at Jack sniveling by the door.

Striding over, Whoratio swung the door open. He bellowed down the length of the companionway for the other midshipmen.

"Hether, Cleveland! Seize him," Whoratio ordered. "Do as I say or take his place!"

"Aye, sir!" they said breathlessly, running up and standing at attention.

"Take him away. Get him cleaned up. He’s got the watch in a quarter hour."

"Aye, sir," Cleveland said, the older of the two, a heavy ox of a young man.

"Aye, Aye, Mr. Hornblower, sir," said Hether, always trying to out do Cleveland.

"Well, get on with it. Take that filth away," Whoratio repeated. "Don’t stand there gawping!"

The three midshipmen scrambled away from Whoratio’s powerful kick aimed at their fat backsides. Then from the deck above, they heard the lookout call to the captain that there was a sail in sight, hull up on the starboard quarter. Whoratio’s eyes lit up. Ah, action at last, he thought, and prisoners to torment.