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The Miniscule Victory of Davy Jones	By : Bloodylocks Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5655 -:- 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
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�� Four god-forsaken days.
�� Beckett was surprised he had not bitten his bottom
lip completely off by then. One of the crew members saw to the crude stitching
which would prevent that from ever happening though. However, the scar which
would take the stitches� place was the least of his worries. He glanced at the
dark, ugly marks about his battered form, other crude ragdoll lines of the
�treatment� for his wounds. His bloodshot eyes traveled to the area which
frightened him most�
�� He remembered waking in chains a day after his
capture, mildew and decaying seaweed causing his stomach to churn within him,
but he did not gag until the searing pain in his groin caused him to inspect
it.
�� Makeshift bandages dressed the horrendous wound which
was once his penis. He tried to tear his gaze away, but he soon realized the
rest of him was without his clothing, save for the soggy remains of his
undershirt. This could not be happening to him, he kept telling himself. It was
a twisted, hellish nightmare, and he would soon awake from it. He kept on
waiting to wake up as he heard wet footsteps on the stairs.
�� Two crewmen came into his field of view, one
unlocking the barred door, the other smirking sadistically. The creature with
the keys Beckett has seen many a time when he was commander of both Jones and
this hellish vessel. His brutish features and barnacle covered visage suggested
anticipation of something Beckett would have rather not been informed of.
�� Hurry up, Clanker,� the other pirate urged in a
Northern European brogue. This one looked to be cloven down the center of his
torso, the edges of the cleave rippling like a giant clam. Inside the split was
a small lifeless body, frozen in anguish.
�� I�m tryin�.� Finally the door opened and the two
monstrous pirates entered the decrepit cell.
�� Kill me if you wish,� Beckett managed to snarl at
them, pride still clinging to him like the seaweed dying on the cell bars.
�Torture me all to your heart�s content, but I promise� you shall not break me.
And you shall not receive satisfaction from my pain.�
�� The two brutes laughed loudly, the echoes from their
voices traveling upstairs. Shuffling sounded from the top of the steps. Someone
else was waiting.
�� Satisfaction, eh?� the one known as Clanker chortled
in his bass voice. �Oh we�ll get some satisfaction. Yew ain�t a big �un, but
you�ll do!�
�� You�ll do,� the second man echoed, giving a grin
with less teeth than a person could count on both
hands.
�� Before he could defy them once more, Beckett was
hauled by his arms out of the cell and up the steps, his loins throbbing in the
utmost pain. He could only hope they would not rot of gangrene. Thrown onto his
stomach was certainly not of any help to him when they reached the deck. The
chorus of horrific laughter once again filled the air. Beckett did not bother
to push the strands of his ruined wig out from his vision, and he looked up to
see Davy Jones sitting on the Kraken hammer, stroking the wood with his mighty
crustacean claw.
�� Not much use to be had of this thing, eh Lord?�
Jones asked in a condescending tone. Beckett made an attempt to rise, but a
heavy clawed foot held him against the deck. Jones hopped off the hammer with a
resonating thud, his crablike left leg causing reverberations in the
floorboards. �Ever since what happened to my beloved pet��
�� Beckett might have spat out an insult concerning said
pet, but his groin was practically on fire. The mismatched footsteps came
closer and louder as Davy accosted his captive.
�� Ever since you had me kill the one thing left dear
to me� are you aware of how long the Kraken had been in my possession, Lord
Beckett?� Jones bent over to speak to the man. �How long she were
devoted to me? That�s a very dear friendship you severed, lad. Couldn�t even do
it yourself, could ye?�
�� The captain nodded to a crewman and Beckett was
lifted by the shoulders once more. That horrible claw which had disfigured the
man�s body lifted Beckett ever so lightly by the chin.
�� Even worse, to hold me prisoner by my own heart. To force my hand against my Kraken, and my own person.� The
grim sweetness in his sea-born countenance faded into anger, and he once again
nodded. The crew member holding Beckett promptly dropped him.
�� Strip what remains,� the human heard Jones order,
and a coral encrusted cutlass dove under the fabric of Beckett�s shirt, tearing
away and allowing an easier removal. Lifted and tied by the wrists to the mast,
he cringed under the touch of the devilish creatures, but was determined not to
show them his fear, even if it was bubbling just under the surface of his
anger.
�� Pity, ain�t it lads?� Jones mused aloud. Laughter again. A few crewmen were within Beckett�s sight
and he could tell they were sickeningly pleased about something.
�� how one so powerful could
really be so� frail�� the captain of the Flying Dutchman continued. �Just look
at this skin� I wonder� does the water go straight through you, lad?�
�� Throw me overboard and find out, wretched
aberration,� Beckett finally retorted.
�� Davy Jones sneered at his captive and began to gaze
over the pale flesh, his misshapen right hand trailing along the spine.
�� I shall be downhearted when we have to ruin this
pretty skin� but until then, we can treat you to a grand time.� He turned to
the crowd which had formed. �Can�t we, boys?�
�� The rabble cheered and laughed. One crew member stood
closely before the mast, his barracuda face twisting into a grin of needle
teeth. In his webbed hand dangled a thick whip. Beckett shuddered at the
feeling of suction cup covered fingers clinging to his back and closed his
eyes, trying to ignore the pain and fear which threatened to overtake him. The
crew�s reaction to the cruelty made Beckett almost shiver. Save for the excited
murmurs through the crowd, the pirates had become unnervingly silent. The
creature in front of the mast thumped his whip against his leg.
�� A soft pop came from each sucker as it was pulled
from Beckett�s back and the hand returned to his body, though this time against
his hip. He suddenly felt Jones� breath against the small of his back, lowering
until he felt each small puff of air against the halves of his bottom. The air
was not warm like that of a human; it was as chilled and sharp as the breeze
which drifted through the Dutchman�s sales. He was too shocked at the actions
by the cruel captain to cough up any real threats or insults now. Jones would
not be mad enough to do what Beckett suspected, would he??
�� Jones� long, curling fingers, as well as the tendrils
which made up his living beard, explored the contours of the bound man�s frame,
especially where his cold breath fell. The crew had started to make crude
gestures at their new prisoner and their voices rose when they saw what their
leader proceeded to do. Beckett yelped in disbelief and shock when he felt a
cold, slimy tongue dive into the halves of his backside. He struggled against
his bonds and cursed Jones� name, but the hellish captain only delved deeper, his
tentacles grasping the soft flesh beneath.
�� You ravaged me in your own fashion,� he growled low,
�and now I shall do the same to you in mine.�
�� No��
�� No?� Jones replied in amusement. �Oh, I really must
disagree.�
�� The cheers increased in magnitude when Beckett found
himself screaming. Though still squirming against the chains and ropes which
held him to the mast, he was powerless to do anything except scream out his
agony and humiliation. Jones� tongue continued to lap at the skin of his
prisoner, though his mouth had been at the lower end of the spine. Instead, it
was his hideous beard which had penetrated Cutler Beckett, tendrils forcing the
halves of his rump open and plunging into the opening found there. The near
translucent skin of Davy Jones was naturally wet, and the tentacle entered with
ease, but that fact did nothing to help soften the abuse Beckett suffered for
the next excruciating five minutes. The violation ran deep inside him and when
Jones finally pulled out of the snug channel, he wondered if the tendril used
had gone into his bowels.
�� One of the crewmen slapped Beckett on the shoulder as
though congratulating him for a job well done, but the blow was ignored. From
the castration dealt to him the day before and the invasion of his insides as
though he were a filthy whore, he was nearly in a state of shock.
�� Bosun!� Davy called out as
he wiped his tentacles clean. The man with the barracuda face was instantly at
his captain�s side, ready for an order which he knew he would carry out with
great pleasure.
�� Davy Jones smiled, his eyes narrowed wickedly.
�Proceed.�
�� Jimmylegs loosened his hold on the whip and let it
unravel to the floor. Beckett flinched before the first lash was even dealt
upon his back.
�� The monster flogging him was notorious for cleaving
flesh from bone with every strike and found no difference with Lord Beckett. He
left deep open wounds with every lash, even though later he claimed he was
hardly putting effort into his swings. After three more blows, Jimmylegs was
stopped and Jones stepped forward to inspect what was left of the fallen Lord.
True to the bosun�s infamy, Davy could see bone if he looked closely enough at
the ragged wounds marring the once pretty pale flesh. Blood fell in little
rivulets down to the wooden deck and a twitch shook Beckett�s entire crimson
dripping frame.
�� Beckett�s eyelids did their own twitching as he hung
there on the mast like a sack of meat in a butcher shop, just as limp and just
as red. He was in shock and most likely half cognizant.
�� If you still do not fear death by my hand, I shall
leave you here to die,� Jones said, his voice quiet
but clear. �And you will, I do not doubt it, but it will not be sudden. It will
not be with honor. Your blood shall ebb from you� and slowly a part of you shall
go, little by little. The pain may return� or it may not� but by then, you will
be taken to that dark abyss, where hell shall be waiting. And believe me� then
you shall know what pain is.�
�� Beckett heard the words past his flickering
consciousness, and the voice of the cruel inhuman man had never frightened him
as it did now. He never would have dreamt in all of his life that he would even
be in this situation, near death and at the mercy of a truly horrible crew
which had caused this level of shame and anguish in him.
�� But,� Jones continued. �If you allow me to grant you
life, I can safely promise� I have punished you for your faults far enough and
I swear I shall never repeat it.�
�� Beckett understood what the captain�s words meant. He
knew the proposal being placed before him, and currently, in his wound addled
mind, he truly did not wish to remain at this mast, bleeding to death.
�� So I will ask you once more�� he heard whispered at
his ear. �Do you fear death?�
�� Cutler Beckett�s voice was so weak he barely heard
his own answer, but Jones heard it well enough. The harsh, whispering voice of
the captain became a sinister laugh.
�� Welcome to the crew, Cutler Beckett.�
�� The craggy face of Clanker appeared once again as he
undid the ropes holding Beckett�s bruised wrists. Giving a toothy smile, the
barnacle covered brute allowed the broken man to face his new leader, who in
turn smiled as though claiming victory. Frankly, Beckett was too overwhelmed by
his physical state to notice.
�� Do you swear your alliance to the Dutchman?�
�� Pride stripped from him, Beckett bowed his head like
the dog he was, hating himself for all eternity at his next words.
�� I do so swear.�
�� Already he felt his breath coming easier, though his
chilled his lungs as he inhaled. Soon, the rest of him felt as though covered
in ice water. The depths of the Dutchman�s power were causing his soul to sink,
deeper and deeper, though the soul was not drowning. Fire still raged within
his loins and backside, and the gaping serrations of the whip screamed inside
him, but he simply would not die. His heart felt tight as if Davy Jones� rock
hard claw was closing about it, and just when Beckett thought he would not
stand the pain in his chest, he felt the grip release. He heard his pulse throb
in his ears, but somehow his ribcage felt� empty.
�� Jones turned to his men. �Let it be known that there
is a new crew member of the Dutchman. I have dealt him his punishment and am
thus finished with him� but he is now yours to play with as you wish.�
�� Beckett�s hearing was quite well now, but somehow all
the time he had dealings with Jones in the past still did not prevent him from
feeling surprised at the words.
�� You bastard! You lying
bastard, I will kill you!� he cried out, and as he stood, his pain sent fire
through him again. One of the crewmen kicked him in the face and he was sent
sprawling and screaming onto his shredded back.
�� Davy Jones looked down at his enemy and smiled once
more. �I have done no such thing as a lie. My venom towards you is ended� but
my men each have something they want to say to you.�
�� The look in Beckett�s eyes not only spoke of shock
and confusion, but also the plea for mercy. Spiny arms and rocklike hands
restrained him as the crew swarmed about him like vultures spotting a fresh
corpse.
�� Before he retired to his quarters, Jones turned one
last time to the broken lord. �Your allegiance is accepted.�
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The Miniscule Victory of Davy Jones