A Captain's Entertainment 0109.27

Bullet laughs to himself as BlackBlood wanders off with one of the many fine specimen of women found in the establishment. He reaches down and wraps his hand around the second mug of Dramboie, he takes a long swig and puts the mug back down on the table, spilling a good deal of it as well. It doesn't seem to bother him too much. "Aye, a fine time he'll have" He says, if one didn't know any better, one might think he was almost trying to get rid of him. He turns back to you, "You'll sleep well tonight, you'll need to be rested." He pauses for a second, as a thought crosses his mind, "Na'ery you even think about running off with that gold either. God save you if you do." Bullet looks at you, almost gauging you. He knows if you had any wits about you, that you wouldn't, but he does wonder sometimes whether you have any smarts in that head of yours at all.

Crowe looks over at you after watching the departing form of Blood, and his 'female'. He shakes his head somberly, and say, "Aye no Captain. I would NEVER steal from you... I owe you so much..." he says looking down, and fingering the shabby edges of his vest. "You saved my life and all... Got me out of town when they wanted to hang me for murder." he whispers, as if the law might be nearby, and hear him. He looks up, and bravely swallows down the rest of his drink, then glances at you again. "I will do my very best to get you all I can Captain. I want to make you proud of me..." he says with the weakest of smiles.

Bullet grins. He doesn't just grin, he almost smiles. He looks down at you, pleased, like a master proud of a dog that just learned a trick. "Aye.. of course should you want to make me proud." He pauses and grabs you by the chin, his fingers firmly squeezing your cheeks. "I'm glad that a few drinks also knock that smart ass attitude of yours off, all that will ever get you are more blows to your brains." He lets go of you and sighs, "I tire of this atmosphere, I na'ery lie with any of these women. If I wanted to be ill either, I'd lay a Drow. My entertainment here is none."

Crowe tenses as you grip his face, and he tries to not look in your eyes, he can feel the scrutinizing stare, and in his heart of hearts, he would never willingly cross you. He knows the fate of those that do. He shudders as you mention the Drow, the dark hated variant of his race. "Aye Captain... would you like to return to the ship then? We could play Morgan's Revenge (A pirate form of Dreidel) if you like..." he offers.

Bullet thinks for a second, and seems to return to his 'official business' mentality. "Na'ery I have times for games, besides, you'd probably cheat your captain anyways." He adds, knowing that more than likely, he would be the one doing the cheating. "I believe that you had some inventory logs that I need to review... I'll give you permission to read them to me." He seems stuck in a thought for a second, "You stowed them in my quarters, _right_?" He asks, seeming as though a wrong answer would not provoke a good response.

Crowe looks at you, a bit disappointed he could not engage you in a more playful activity, he already has a dread feeling of things to come. "Aye Captain. I did place the logs on your desk in your quarters before we came ashore." he pauses, "I know the light in there is weak, so I shall read them to you, so you may rest your eyes for piloting the ship..." he says, giving you again the honorable way out of being illiterate.

Bullet nods. "Ah yes.. I've been so busy with ship's business, I suppose I could use a rest.." He repeats, sounding like it's something he needs to be talked into. He reaches into his pocket and brings out a single gold coin, and places it on the table. It really isn't enough for the tab, but they are fortunate they are getting that. He stands up slowly, the alcohol obviously having some effect. He's not slurring speech, but he's not in a condition to go run for miles. He begins to head out for the ship, assuming of course, that you are following.

Crowe rises after you, and walks close to you but slightly behind you, for a number of reasons. One if you fall, it will be his fault, and at least he will be able to catch you. Second, he is wanted for murder, and knows not many would try to claim his bounty while so close to you, and third, it's fucking cold out, this way you at least break a path in the snow and wind for him. "Aye Captain." he agrees, "Too much work is not good for a man..." he says softly and follows you to the ship.

Bullet goes out the front door of The Harpy to the Docks.

As Bullet walks in, he removes his long coat and throws it onto the scrim screen. The weight of things in his jacket knocking it over. He really doesn't seem to terribly concerned though. It's not his job to keep things clean. The lighting in the room is fairly bad, so much so, that it would make it very difficult for him, even if he could read. "Please start with the inventory of arsenal." Bullet leans down and begins to remove his boots. It seems he's getting ready to lie down as you read to him.

Crowe follows you into the interior room of your quarters, glad for the warmth and soft carpet beneath his feet. He removes his boots, flexing his feet in the wool, and scrambles to right the scrim, and hand your coat on the hook on the back of the chamber door. He looks longingly at the empty bathtub, woefully underused by his standards, but he of course would die if he mentioned such. He breaks away from his longing, and rushes to your desk to claim the papers. Holding them in front of himself, he looks over at you, "Start with the arsenal, Captain?" he asks.

Bullet finally gets his second boot off after much pulling. Those things stay on tight! He repeats a little angrily, "Yes you idgit, start with the inventory on cannonballs and gunpowder. We can't go out and fight if we don't have them!" He stands up and begins to walk over to his bed, but then something happens. Something by any standards, not good for anyone. He trips. He trips over something. That something being one of his blankets laying on the floor. He falls to the ground with a rather loud THUD. He doesn't move, or make a sound, but just lies there.

Crowe lets out a stifled yelp as you trip, and the papers go sailing as he dives to catch you, but even he is not that fast. He visibly winces as you hit the floor, and is immediately at you side, "Captain! Captain!" he calls frantically, shaking your still form with urgency. "Please, wake up. Captain! Wake up!" he calls, then rolls you onto your back, panic covering his face as he looks upon your still form.

Bullet urks, as he comes to.. it's not something you would normally actually trip over if you hadn't had a little nip to drink. He seems shaken as first as you help him to his feet. Slowly in his head, he begins to draw a conclusion, "You were trying to kill me weren't you!" He's obvious, extremely unpleased, "You planned this! You little shit-head, you thought when you put my inventory away, you would leave something out, hope I trip on it and break my fucking neck!" His fists are balled up extremely tightly, his knuckles white. If the room were lit better, you could almost see the vein in his neck throbbing.

Crowe makes a choked sound in his throat as you accuse him, and shakes his head furiously in the negative. "N-no! Captain NO!" he replies taking a step backwards, and watching the fury build in your eyes. "I would never plot such a thing!" He glances around, seeing the object on the floor that caused you to fall, an extra blanket for the bed. "Captain, please!" he says pointing to the blanket, "It was the blanket for your bed... Not a plot! Not a plot at all!" he babbles in a fright, then drops to his knees before you, lacing his fingers together as he pleads for his life. "Please Captain. Remember who I am... I am your most loyal, I would never never seek to harm you."

Bullet has his teeth gritted together, he doesn't even try to part them when he speaks. It's possible that there's a part of him that thinks you may not have plotted this, but he's not the kind to grant mercy on another. His voice is very angered, but it's not loud. It's a moderate speaking voice, just gritted through his teeth, "Get on your feet _now_ and look me right in the eyes"

Crowe slowly rises to his feet, trembling the entire way, and clasps his hands behind his back. Slowly he lifts his eyes to yours, and trying to look as forlorn and miserable as he can is no mistake. "Captain..." he says softly. "It was my fault the blanket was there... but I did not mean any harm. It was in case you were to get cold in the night, I could add it to your bed..." he says in a trembling voice.

Bullet takes a very deep breath, and exhales through his still gritted teeth, small bits of spittle hit your face, his breath stinks of Dramboie. He just stares through you, in his mind, he's beating the brains out of you with his bare hands, but he knows he can't do that. It wouldn't be profitable, and it would be to exhausting for him. He finally flatly states, "I am going to punish you, however, I need those inventories. So we are going to kill two birds with one stone. Remove your clothes, get your fucking papers, and begin reading them to me. I swear if you move after that, I will keep you in the brig until you drown in your own shite." A half empty threat, but certainly a scary one, and it's something he's done to people before for far less.

Crowe nods eagerly, his heart pounding in his ears, and quickly he moves to comply. A tightness grows in his stomach as he quickly shucks his clothing, setting it under the bed to avoid any more accidents, then trying to maintain some form of modesty, he collects his papers, and sets them in his lap as he sits cross-legged on the floor near your bed. He looks up at you expectantly. Swallowing cautiously, his throat bone dry, he says, "Shall I read them now Captain?"

Bullet groans, extremely frustrated, "No tomorrow idiot, yes of course I want you to read them now! Read them loudly! And fucking stand up! I did not give you permission to sit down." Bullet undoes the leather belt on his pants. he removes his holster for his gun and places it down on a stand. He removes his shirt as well. He walks briskly right up to you and watches as your begin to read. He mutters quickly "Do not stutter either Elfie." (Bullet's body is not massively defined, but he's by no means small in comparison to you.)

Crowe quickly gets to his feet, and stands as directed, holding the papers in front of him as if he were in a choir ready to sing. Taking a long breath, he begins to read the inventory. "Gunpowder, twelve kegs on hand, cannon balls, 10 dozen on hand, musket balls, one barrel on hand..." he reads, sneaking a glance over at you and the belt in your hand. His eyes return to the paper, and he continues, "Pistols, 25 on hand, Muskets, 30 on hand..."

Bullet walks briskly back behind you. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happens next. Humans have the fortunate ability of not knowing exactly when a blow is coming, they can't hear the windup. Elves on the other hand, are much more distinguished in the ability of hearing. In your position, it's rather unavoidable too. Bullet puts the leather belt to your back with just about all his strength. It lands right under your left shoulder, leaving a bright red strap mark there. Good likely hood of bruising though. Bullet sighs and says, "You know, I don't like doing this to you.. I thought you were better than this.. you've let me down.." He pulls back again and lands another blow under your right shoulder, and then asks, "Food supplies. How are they?" )

Crowe indeed hears the blows whistle through the air before the strike, and he braces himself. Only a muffled breath comes from him as you strike him once, then twice. He feels the sting of he strap, then the heat that follows. He will not cry out, his pride, what little he has left will not allow him to do so. He grits his teeth to answer your question, "The cook is in charge of the food stores.... Captain." he says with a pause to draw in a breath. "He will not allow me in the Galley Captain..." he reminds you.

Bullet sighs loudly. He forgot. Two blows, and he's already lost track of his senses, how irresponsible of himself. You can hear a clunk as the belt drops to the floor. Bullet comes up behind you and wraps one arm around your chest and another throws the other over your shoulder, but grabs you by the cheeks again. He presses his mouth close to your ears, "Yes.. I know he won't. I was just testing you to see if you would lie." He seems fairly sure of that too. Had you lied, he would have continued the whippings. You can feel his leather pants pressed against your backside.. you can feel oh so much there as well. "Shall we continue on then.. tell me.. how much was our expenditures from the last trip out to sea?" This is something that's obviously been gone over before, he doesn't even care, he's just giving you useless facts to recite to him. The hand that was on your chest reaches down.. down past your stomach.. down to definition of gender. He grasps it in his hand and begins to stroke it softly. Punishment indeed. The pheromones have obviously gone to his head.

Crowe shudders as your body is suddenly so close to his, and he closes his eyes, swallowing the rising bile taste in his mouth. This isn't the first time and he knows it won't be the last. All he can do it try to make sure this doesn't become the worst of the times he has lain with you. The smell of the liquor on your breath makes his nose wrinkle, on the verge of a sneeze, and he manages to stifle it. His heart pounds as you grip his manhood, and begin masturbating him, finding a reason to be aroused for you is always the hardest part of this deadly foreplay. "Captain... our last trip was one of the most profitable of recent voyages.." he starts out reciting quietly. "We "liberated" the treasury of three ships, and have them in the stores in the hold. So far.... our expenditures returning and while here in port have used approximately ten percent of the take. This is..." he pauses, closing his eyes as you nuzzle near his ear, his mind skidding off track for just a second, then he manages to finish the sentence, "before restocking of the ships stores for putting out to sea of course..." he finishes barely in a whisper.

Bullet makes a small sound of approvement. He doesn't really even seem to care about whether or not you're aroused, this really doesn't seem to be about you at all. He lets go of your cheek, only to unbutton, and remove his own pants with one hand. He never lets go of your crotch, continuing to stroke it gently, almost as if he cared. Much like in the way he has you reading to him, as if he cared. You can feel him rubbing himself up against your rump now, he's obviously not having any problems whatsoever finding a reason to be aroused. He whispers into your ear, "Tell me.. are there any foreseeable financial difficulties we may incur?" Such an odd conversation piece for what the man's doing to you right now. He has moved his mouth, still close to your ear, just no longer speaking, it appears he's nibbling on Elfie ears.

Crowe forces himself to breath as you continue to fondle, and touch him in the most intimate of ways. His eyes are clamped shut now, and wetness forms at the corners. He wishes he could relax, become aroused, it may make it easier, like the first time. He pushes that scenario from his mind, and like a drugged prisoner, dully speaks to you, "We have a suitable amount to fund another voyage Captain, if we are as careful and thrifty with our .... with your stores, we should not run out before another take unless unforeseen expenses arise." he says softly. Your mouth on his ear causes his breath to catch in his throat, and a shiver follows, making his body tremble against you. No matter how he may not want this, attention to his most sensitive of body parts causes the beginnings of a response to the manhood in your grasp. "Captain..." he breathes but stops.

Bullet might as well be raging drunk. He's inebriated on pheromones (although the Dramboie did certainly help the process along.) He pulls away from you completely as he feels you coming around to being aroused. He walks back in front of you and looks down at you. "Tell me about our current projects that I have made you aware of." He says this very quietly and hastily. He's seemed to have lost all interest in being angry. That emotion has reallocated itself in another form. Bullet drops to his knees and takes your head into his mouth.

Crowe meets your eyes with his as you come around to face him, he sees the haze in your eyes, your mind and body enflamed with drink and his own natural aphrodisiac. He opens his mouth to begin to recite the projects planned, but his words catch in his throat as you begin to unexpectedly suckle on him. He lets out a surprised mewing sound, and has to force his knees to keep from buckling. "C-captain..." he gasps, eyes open wide, then squeezing shut again. He swallows, and tries to continue. "I... I am to track and rob... Lo.." he stops, mind failing him on the name of the man he is to rob. "The merchant... I am to rob him in the woods..." he manages to get out, his hands dropping to his sides as the logs flutter to the floor like autumn leaves.

Bullet has really stopped caring. He doesn't say anything about you stuttering, he's not listening. He really couldn't even speak if he wanted to, his mouth is a bit occupied right now by your member. He reaches one hand up to grasp one of yours, not in any kind of gesture, but really to hold you still, his other arm reaches around to your hips. Obviously if you aren't going to work with him, he's going to push you around like a rag doll. He pushes your hips forward, pushing you into his mouth to your hairless hilt, his tongue running side to side underneath of you. He pulls back just an inch or two on you before swallowing you whole again, and again, and again. For someone who should theoretically be in the position of always receiving such lavish manipulations of the body, he does do it surprisingly well.

Crowe gives up at last on reciting anything but soft moans. He forgets all but the sensations shooting through him that are not pain, or shame. He long ago stopped worrying about what would be thought of him to be used by human men in such a way. It's a matter of survival, and he plans to put an end to it once he is able, but this... "Captain... you don't have..." he stops, at last leaning into and away from your mouth strokes on his cock. He shivers as you travel along his long slim length, drawing him to full hardness with your skillful ministrations. He entwines the long slim fingers of his hand in yours, and his other rests on your shoulder for balance as he allows himself to surrender to you.

Bullet seems very pleased that you have figured out what he wants you to do, that you gave in. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, perhaps that signals something.. perhaps not. He just continues to work down on you, not seeming to find it any bother to him whatsoever. He pushes himself up and down your length quicker and quicker, making sure to keep a good lip lock on you. The hand on your rump slides slightly father down on you, he extends a finger right ontop of your opening, and begins to slowly rub around it as he goes down on you. You can tell that he's just trying to warm you up in the back, but in the front, he's trying to take you to town.

Crowe tilts his head back, panting for air now, and he blinks as he stares upward at the ceiling. Getting caught up in the sensations you deliver to him, he closes them again, and moves his hips with more urgency now. He is not trying to hold anything back, why should he? After the kick of the night before and the slap today, he will savor this touch and claim it before it is taken away. When your finger probes at his backside, he cries out softly, hips jutting forward in reflex, and slipping his cock further into your mouth. "Oh... Captain..." he whispers, his hand clenching on your shoulder now as he nears a climax.

Bullet pushes his finger slowly into you, as you try to buck your hips more. His own hardness is almost beginning to hurt. He just keeps working on you for all your worth, running his tongue along your head, shaft, and even touching your balls. His lips curled back over his teeth to protect your member, he rocks back and forth into you hard and quickly. He makes a small grunting sound, obviously quite a bit of effort he's having to put forth. His hand squeezes yours tightly.

Crowe has left himself fully vulnerable to you, and in doing so, he feels no fear, no shame, only the wonderful sensation of your mouth upon him. He thrusts quicker now, grunting with each movement of his hips. His anus clenches tightly around your invading digit, letting you know how he will feel sheathed around your cock in moments to come. Suddenly he cries out, a stifled whimper, then a full out emoting of his orgasm. "Oh.... Captain.... captain..." he moans as both of his hands grip your shoulders and his hips buck with pleasure. His sweet load pumps into your mouth, not the sour taste of a human, making the task all the more enjoyable for the giver.

Bullet makes a small sound of appreciation, he seems pleased with his results. The captain will always get what he wants. He continues to suck on you as you climax in his mouth, knowing just how good it feels. His finger pushes deeper into you. The size difference between the two does make things a bit more difficult, but not for the captain. He feels he's doing you a favor by even preparing you this much. Bullet seems to enjoy the taste of your seed, he doesn't really savor it like a fine wine, but it's certainly much more pleasant than other tastes. His adam's apple rises and falls as he swallows. Once your spurts have subsided, he removes his mouth from you, and his finger from you. He looks up at you, (Not a point of view you are likely to see too often), "On the bed, as I like you," He says. It's not quite in the tone his commands are normally barked out in, but it's still a command, nonetheless.

Crowe revels in the feeling of the climax washing over him. The stress of earlier events gone from his mind, and the soothing effect of liquor and orgasm turning him into a very malleable partner. He does not risk speaking, but quickly and gracefully complies with your orders. His pale form takes on a magickal appearance almost displayed on your bed this way, bathed by the lamplight. He tosses his long hair back over his delicate shoulders as he plants his hands and knees on the softness of your comforter, directly in the center of the bed. If it weren't for the fleshy male form hanging between his legs, he would look like a young underdeveloped girl waiting for her mate. The fabric is silky and with a languid laziness, he slides his knees apart, and closes his eyes, "I am ready Captain..." he says softly in a completely neutral voice.

Bullet grins happily, ah, the pleasures of the privateer.. see the world, and get booty. He hops onto the bed, and gets down to his knees. He places one hand on your rump cheek, spreading you apart for easier access. He makes a small grunting sounds as he gets himself positioned. With his free hand he reaches into his night stand and pulls out a small bar, that almost looks like soap. It's condensed oil of lilacs, mixed with just a tiny bit of glyercin. He rubs the bar over himself, making sure that he is good and slicked up. He puts the bar back into his night stand. He places the other hand (still covered with the perfurmey smelling oil) on your shoulder, attempting to brace you. He places himself right at your opening, you can feel his member throbbing against you, and slowly, he pulls you back by your shoulder.

Crowe remains silent, compliant as you ready yourself for taking him. He tilts his head to nuzzle against your hand on his shoulder, smelling the pleasing scent of the balm, and as you pull him back onto your cock, he lets out a soft whimper. His anus opens, and stretches around the thickness of your cock head, then easing his weight back, he feels your shaft begin to slide into him. His hands clutch at the covers on the bed, and he pants lightly as he impales himself back onto you. "Ugh.... Oh.... Captain." he sighs, feeling his body stretched by your cock.

Bullet lets a slow moan escape his mouth as he slides into you. His grips on your shoulder tightens as he pulls you back just a little bit more. He stops for a second, to give you a little bit to adjust to the feeling, before releasing your shoulder. He places both hands down on your hips, and with one very swift motion (and a guttural grunt from himself), impales himself in you completely.

Crowe matches your moans one for one, doing his best to relax and take you inside. He breathes out as you withdraw, then as you thrust into him, he cries out in a yelp of pain. He says nothing, but bites down on his lip, clutching the silky sheets in his fists as you drive yourself into him. He blinks as tears stream down his cheeks. His mouth remains open as he pants, and his slender body glistens with a light sweat.

Bullet begins rocking his body into yours, making sure to keep himself in deep. He doesn't make long draw out motions that those of a 'lover' relationship might make, he makes quick small motions, much like an animal. He keeps a hold of you by the hips, to try and control you as much as he can. Or at least the part he needs to control. As he rides into you, he looks down at the markings on your back from the whippings earlier. You can tell that the reason he had been doing this had escaped his mind for a while, and that it's just been brought back up, like a bad rumor that just won't go away.

Crowe has relaxed his body so much that his moves with your every thrust. Your quick motions cause him to grunt with each of them. As it continues, his own prick firms anew. It could be just a reaction to the unnatural coupling but, who knows? As you hold him tight he moves his right hand to his lap and begins to stroke himself. His grunts become soft mewing moans as your cock grinds against his G spot, stimulating him further.

Bullet begins to set a fairly decent rhythm, fast! The intense feeling inside of him, of the need to release, does not tell him to go slowly, to make it feel good for you. In his mind, it's all for him. He leans down, and pretty much lies ontop of you as his hips buck now. He goes back to nibbling on your ear as he works away.. he seems to definitely found a niche. He notices you are working away at yourself again already and whispers to you, "What, I didn't get it all the first time?" In a smart ass tone. A good portion of his weight is on you, hopefully you are fully capable of supporting him.

Crowe hrms softly as you nibble on his ears, sending shivers through his slender frame. He gasps more now, the harder you fuck him. "Captain.... ah... ah... Oh.." he sighs as you lean him farther forward. He plants his left hand into the bed, his right still working his own cock eagerly. "Oh... oh...." is the only answer he can give you as you bear down and into him.

Bullet finds himself rather unable to speak very well either. The only thing that's coming from him now are very deep quick breathes. He's starting to take longer strokes, slamming his center of gravity into your rump. The sounds of his ballsac slamming into your posterior is the only other noise coming from him other than his breathing. His hands are almost trembling, his chest, covered in a light sweat, he's getting close to his own limits.

Crowe is blessed, or cursed, depending on how you look at it, as a quick cummer. He reacts to your longer more direct thrusts with a muffled cry, and a shudder under you as his cock spurts out over his fist and onto the coverlet. His hole clenches down on your shaft as it pistons in and out of his slick body, and he moans your title over and over, as if it were a prayer or chant. "Captain... Oh Captain.... yes.... yes...." he groans tilting his head back to gaze into your eyes.

Bullet's breathing gets heavier and heavier as his ramming gets more and more violent. It changes to, it's no longer heavy breathing, it's grunting. It's very loud grunting. Anyone standing near the captain's door can probably hear it too, but they should be used to those sounds by now. An expression that could be almost confused with pain comes across Bullet's face. It's a grimace yes, but not one of pain. He takes just one more push, the clench. That does it. He calls out that phrase, applicable to any situation, but very communicative in this one as to what's going on. "Oh FUCK!" His eyes clench shut, as he releases his seed deep into you.

Crowe barely manages to remain on his tripod of arm and legs, then comes the final thrust of your body into his and he falls, your body pressing him down into the bed. His right hand is trapped underneath him, but he pulls it free to rest his head on with the left. He pants quickly, like having run a race, and closes his eyes. He feels your final thrusts into his backside, and hears your cries as you claim him as yours yet again with your sticky load. "Oh.... Cap....tain..." he sighs, completely spent. He lies there underneath you, body tingling, and mind reeling with the mixture of many emotions.

Bullet breathes deeply again. He's catching up with himself as well. He sighs softly as the last reminicent of seed leave him, and the beauty of afterglow set in. He slides himself slowly out of you and turns over on his back on the bed. He doesn't look at you, doesn't even really acknowledge you, just breathes hard. His body lays astride on the bed, but slowly he reaches a hand over and pats you on the head.

Crowe longs for the soft touch, an embrace that comes after a coupling, but knowing that will not happen, he acknowledges your touch with a soft, "Thank you Captain." then lays his head on his arms looking away from you. The pleasure of the heated moment passes, and he is left with the reality of his situation sour in his mouth, and throbbing sore in his ass. He lies there, waiting for your next move whether it be cruel or subtle. Even after all this time, he still can never accurately predict your next move.

Bullet doesn't make any sort of amazing move, he just pulls the blanket up over himself, and partially over you (Though it really wasn't intentional). He turns his back to you and closes his eyes. He's tired, had a busy day, and long hard roll in the proverbial hay. He just wants to sleep now, and it doesn't take long before his obnoxious snoring starts. A cold draft enters the room from somewhere.