Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

Payment	By : BaronNomaw Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 2171 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Tia Dalma Demands Payment
- 2-Tia goes a little easier on Jack
- 1
- 2
Do we
think Tia Dalma resurrected
Barbossa for free?�
Do we think the price she exacts is something kids should read
about?� No, and no.

I think Tia Dalma feeds on people.� Love, fear, humiliation, anger� it all spells
dinner as far as Tia
Dalma is concerned.

********************************************
She
reached out and closed her warm hands around him.� Immediately, the pleasant tingling of
pleasure about to happen was transformed into a hideous itch that no amount of
touching would relieve.
�What�s
this?�
She
smiled at him.� �De woman help wit de
burn,� she purred, sliding her hands over her naked body.�
As he
made to climb aboard, she stopped him with a hand flat on his chest.� �Hard an� fast an� it go til
I say de stop.�
The tales
had led him to suspect something much less tolerable.� �Anything you say, miss.�� But a moment later he regretted the words, as
the odd itch flared up worse.� He shoved
inside her roughly to try and quench the fire.
She was
right � it did help� but only a little.�
Aside from the salt-in-a-wound burn tormenting his groin he was already
feeling the ache of an overlong denial of pleasure, which disquieted him
because he knew it could not be natural.�
He was slowly beginning to understand � really understand � that
he had no way out until she chose to release him.
For a
while he made earnest attempts to take her normally.� It soon became clear, though, that she was
deliberately using her witchcraft against him, jolting and burning him,
giggling every time he hissed with pain or surprise.
He
couldn�t continue like this, looking down into her eyes and hating her, trying
to pleasure her while she was trying to harm him.� He rolled off her, swearing softly at how
much worse her absence made him feel.
Giving up
was not an option, then.� Shivering, his
whole body twitching now, he dragged her up onto her knees and got behind her
so as to spare himself at least the sight of her.
He found
her hole easily and plunged back in, but the burning cooled only by the tiniest
fraction.� Furious, he put a hand around
her throat and squeezed with everything he had.�
The vindictive pleasure of that helped eclipse his misery quite a bit.
He thrust
at a pace that would have satisfied the most voracious of mortal women, using a
double handful of her chest as leverage to pull against her.� He squeezed her, mauled her, pinched her nipples, wanting to hurt her as badly as she was
hurting him.
Even
after blood welled up from a vicious set of scratches on the underside of her
breast, though, he thought he was probably losing.
Over the
sound of his labored breathing he could hear a rasping noise at the back of her
throat that sounded suspiciously like laughter.�
He choked her until the noise stopped, and received a full-body jolt of
agony in return.
Filthy witch.� Let her laugh
at THIS� He let go
of her throat and, after one more cruel twist, released her nipple as
well.� He reached down and withdrew
himself from her greedy wetness and positioned himself up just a little higher,
where it would really hurt.� The
itching, the burning was worse than ever, as though he had poured an acid all
over his tenderest parts and then tried to rub it off
with a piece of canvas.� There was an
ache in his lower belly too, and he began to fear that he might be sick.
When he
forced entry in one powerful heave, pinning her hips to the bed with all his
weight and pressing her face into the pillow to stifle her preternaturally loud
screams, he actually thought she might cry off first.
He found
that taking her in this way was even more unbearable than the usual � she was
far too tight and too rough.� Her magic
had not weakened; he felt compelled to continue on as fast and hard as he could
to achieve the mildest bit of relief for himself even though it was like making
love to a pail of sand.
It was
torture but at least there was some minor revenge in the pain he was causing in
return, so he pulled her up onto her hands and knees and settled in for the
long haul.� He had a hand on her waist to
synchronize the motion of their hips (even hurting as she was, she was still
moving enthusiastically against him) and a hand free to slap at her chest,
stifle her breathing, wrench her mouth open to make her drool like a half-wit.
His anger
carried him for longer than he would have thought possible.� After some time, though, he slowed due to
exhaustion� and she wheezed, �More.�
He broke
then.� What he was doing was killing him
by inches, hurting so badly that his breathing had begun to resemble dry sobs
and he couldn�t unclench his teeth to speak if his life depended on it.� He was suffering beyond his wildest dreams
and the only thing that kept him moving at all was the belief that he was
avenging himself in the process.
But far
from being punished, she wanted more.�
He couldn�t give it.� He let go of
her throat and collapsed over her back, defeated, nearly ready to start
weeping.� The pain worsened and she
growled a warning to him to continue.�
More pain, tendrils of fire worming their way up through his midsection
searing everything in their path, but although the penalty for stopping was the
worst thing he had felt in his life, he wasn�t lying when he shook his head and
rasped: �I can�t.�
With a
patient sigh, she reached around behind herself and pulled him out of her.� He saw blood � lots of it.� He had just enough possession of himself to
hope that it was hers, but then she pushed him down on his back and straddled
him.� She relaxed her magic to a dull
throbbing sensation and he breathed a sigh of relief.� She looked down, her eyelids heavy and lazy
and her lips curled into a sensuous half-smile.�
He didn�t
know whether to blame her spellcraft or her beauty,
but in that moment the jolt that shot up from his manhood was not made entirely
of pain.� �Curse you and all your kind,
witch,� he whispered.� She looked down at
him until he said it.� �You know I need
you.�
She
nodded.� She rose up on her knees a
little bit, reached down, and settled him back into her scalding tunnel.� As she began to move up and down on him
slowly, he noticed that her eyes were giving off a faint scarlet glow in the
candlelight.� Witch�s draining me like
a vampire, he thought before the ache in his loins exploded back into the
throbbing agony he had known before.�
Now she
didn�t look appealing in the least.� She
was like a demon from the pits of Hell, and he stared with savage satisfaction
at the bruises that dotted her neck, her shoulders, her
breasts.� Ignoring his own pain he
reached up, fully intending to pinch her nipples until he pulled them straight
off her body, but she caught his hands in hers and fell forwards, pinning his
arms to the bed.� She held both his
wrists with one hand and sat up and grinned down at him.� It wasn�t the grin of a woman but of a
skull.� He fought to sit up and found
that he couldn�t move. �With her one
dainty hand she was holding down all his strength and she was laughing at him,
eating up his panic.
He fought
as for his life but couldn�t budge her one inch.� She kept him pinned, by her witchery kept him
excited, and rode him harder and faster than he could bear.� He passed from shouting at her to screaming
in terror very quickly.� Everything
inside him was being sucked out and this creature wouldn�t let him move a
muscle to stop it.
Finally
she froze, mid-thrust, and stared down at him intensely.� He thought he could see that she had her own
eyes now instead of Satan�s red ones, but a haze of tears prevented him from
being sure.� �Is this going to kill me?�
he whispered.
�No.�� She smiled.�
�Come morning you be de same you ever were.� Maybe a little sore.�� He didn�t believe a word of it, especially
when she clenched something inside of her and it took every ounce of willpower
he possessed not to cry out.� Still
keeping his arms pinned to the bed, she reached behind her with her free hand
and patted him on the inner thigh.�
�Open.�
The heat
was becoming impossible; he imagined himself packing his privates in ice but
even that probably wouldn�t be enough to soothe it.� He couldn�t fight her right now but damned if
he would be made to cooperate.� �No.�
She
actually seemed pleased with him, and only later did he realize that mustering
all his will to resist her only gave her more of him to feed on.� �If dat how you
feel...�� She rose up until for a moment
he almost felt free of her poisonous body, then
lowered herself slowly down so that he felt her scorching his every inch.� He moaned and bit his lip until it bled,
determined not to beg mercy, but she just licked up the blood and began to move
faster.� She bounced up and down and
rubbed ruthlessly over his raw flesh until finally he whimpered Please
and spread his legs as she demanded.
She
reached down behind herself and he thought in a panic, Oh God please don�t
squeeze, but she just closed her hand firmly and paused, staring into his
eyes.� His stomach was heaving and his
crotch burning and he was shaking, and here was this woman leaning over
him holding him helpless with one hand.�
He tried halfheartedly to buck her off but she didn�t budge, and he knew
then that he was through and he just looked at her and cried like a baby.
So awash
in humiliation he for a moment forgot to fear the grip she had around his
balls, and she took that opportunity to begin kneading firmly, rhythmically,
just a little too hard.� He couldn�t even
squirm away from her.� He closed his
eyes.� He cried harder.
She began
to roll her hips forwards and back, grinding his abraded manhood against the
noxious walls of her witch�s pit, and stepped up the torture she was inflicting
with her hand.� �You t�row
up an� I make you eat it,� she purred, just before clenching her fist
violently.� He moaned and retched but
kept his food down.� The success of that
experiment led her to repeat it several times more, without advance
warnings.� He tried again to thrash
around and again had no success.� From
somewhere the thought came that if he couldn�t escape the clutches of a woman
for God�s sake, he deserved what he was
getting.� Immediately afterwards came the
cold certainty that he would never be able to look into the mirror again.
She took
in everything, finding him an excellent victim with powerful feelings that
continued to satisfy her long after his spirit had broken.� Even when he lay still, in a haze of misery
punctured periodically by sunbursts of pain from his brutalized testicles, his
sense of shame that he could do nothing to help himself was so intense and
delicious that she tortured him well past what she normally considered the
limit of endurance for a human man.
Eventually
she felt full.
He had
pleasured her so well, satiated her so completely that she offered him an
unusual kindness at the last: she wiped the tears from his cheeks (savoring
that final delicious jolt of self-loathing) and then told him, �Go on finish
how you want � no�ting hurt you now.�
She got
off him, spread herself out on the bed seductively, and waited to see what he
would do.� She knew her witchcraft would compel
him to finish; drained as he was he needed to spill inside her or he would
never be able to rest, but she didn�t tell him that.� She let him have his sense of agency back �
men�s dignities were delightful to munch on but she always felt queasy if she
swallowed one down for good.
She had
assumed he would go for her back passage again, but instead, as soon as he was
able to stand up, he shuffled slowly around the bed, grabbed her by the hair
and yanked her down on her back so that her head dangled over the edge of the
mattress.� Without a word he put himself
in her mouth and drove in all the way.
She
arched up off the bed involuntarily, gagging, and he slapped her face and
shifted his hips to make her gag harder.�
She put her hand up to her neck and found that when he thrust in she
could feel it from all the way outside her body.� The position was extremely uncomfortable and
only got worse when he closed his hand around hers, squeezing the column of her
throat to give himself a tighter passage.
Thanks to
her powers, pain or not he was inflamed and ready to climax quickly.� �Witch, witch, witch,� he gasped.� His hand clenched, his hips jerked and her
nose was mashed hard against his pubic bone as he spilled deep down her throat.
When it
was over he was afraid to look down at himself, having no idea what damage she
had done to him and not feeling strong enough to find out.� He crawled into bed and pulled the covers
over his head and dropped into a deep sleep immediately.
Satiated
as she had not been for many years, she rose slowly and left the room,
reminding herself to thank him in the morning.
*********************************************
The End.
This
story sort of came to me in a dream.� The
Sandman and I are going to have words.
I know
it�s creepy� but review it for me anyway!
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Payment