Fourteen-year-old cabin boy Jaime opened his mouth wide to emit a groan and arched his back, digging his fingers into the shoulder blades of Captain Holst under the man’s billowing cotton shirt, as the old man’s cock bottomed in the boy’s channel. All was quiet in the night in the Dutch merchant vessel plying the Caribbean en route back to Amsterdam with its load of Caribbean treasure. The vessel was rocking in the waves as the wind in its sails floated it toward the Atlantic. All that could be heard in the captain’s cabin were Jaime’s low pants and moans and the old Dutchman’s deep breathing and belabored grunts as he saddled himself on his small cabin boy’s body, getting his erection buried in the boy’s tight anal passage, and began to rise and fall on the boy’s ass. Neither of them heard or felt the bump of wood on wood against the side of the merchantman.

Jaime gasped as the hard cock pulled back and then slid forward, pulled back, slid forward, back and then thrust hard and deep. Again and again, faster, harder. Jaime undulated his body with the fuck, running his hands down the hard-muscled back of the grizzled Dutch seaman to clutching the man’s buttocks and help with the rise and fall of the plump orbs.

“Ja, mijn kapitein. Neuk me—Yes, my captain. Fuck me,” Jaime murmured, knowing the man liked to hear his own language. “Je bent zo groot, zo sterk—You are so big, so strong.”

The man was vigorously fucking the boy. The taking got intense. The trouserless man, covered only with his billowy white cotton shirt, rose up on his knees. He grasped the boy’s narrow waist between his hands and pulled Jaime’s pelvis up to meet the thrusts of his thick cock. Jaime stretched his arms out to the side in a sacrificial position, demonstrating his surrender, submission, and subservience to the ship’s captain.

“Ja, ja, ja. Geef me je zaad—Yes, yes, yes. Give me your seed,” the boy cried out.

This was one of the cabin boy’s duties—this was one of Jaime’s duties. To serve the captain’s every need during the day and then to lie under him at night, taking his cock and seed, giving the captain release, answering his carnal needs, letting the man know he was master of his world.

The boy was bucking his hips against the man’s pelvis, the two of them in harmony, in the plowing of the cock, filling and stretching the boy’s channel. The man tensed and jerked, tensed and jerked. They both cried out as he gave up his seed deep in the boy’s channel. He already had grasped the boy’s cock and stroked him off, taking Jaime’s load on his belly.

Jaime collapsed back on the bed as the captain, risen on his knees between the boy’s thighs, ejaculated. “Jij bent mijn meester—You are my master,” the boy murmured.

Captain Holst gave a cry and fell back, the front of his cotton shirt blossoming forth in scarlet as the blade of a saber came through. Jaime’s naked chest was slathered in blood as the captain’s torso fell away from his vision and the face of the grinning Caribbean pirate behind him materialized.

Arms forced over his head and wrists tied to the headboard of the captain’s cabin bunk, Jaime writhed and bucked on the thick shaft of the belaying pin that the Spanish pirate was brutally fucking him with. Fourteen-year-old Jaime was on his back, his slim, tanned, lightly muscled boy’s torso still awash in the blood of the Dutch ship’s captain Holst. His right leg dangled helplessly over the side of the bunk. The ankle of his left leg was hooked on the pirate’s shoulder. The pirate was on his knees between the boy’s thighs, his tight trousers pulled off, but still wearing a frilly red buccaneer’s doublet. His left hand was gripping the boy’s throat, choking him rhythmically, controlling the boy’s gagging, while he held a thick-shafted belaying pin in his right hand and fucked the boy with it.

The pirate grinned with pleasure at the plaything he’d found in the dead Dutch captain’s cabin. The boy was small and androgenous, a real beauty. It was like fucking a girl, and it had been some time since the pirate had gotten his hands on a girl and done her. No girl he had debauched was as pretty as this young, ginger boy was. The Dutch captain had had the boy dressed in crinolines, so he’d been fantasizing he was fucking a girl too. The boy’s hole was tight, but it spread quickly. The pirate was thicker than the Dutchman had been. The belaying pin was opening the lad up nicely.

Eyes bugging out, Jamie collapsed under the pirate, going completely docile and concentrating on getting his next breath. He’d taken men as brutal as this in the Cartegena brothel. But it hadn’t been this rough with the Dutch captain.

Pulling the pin out, the pirate turned the boy onto his stomach, ran his left arm under Jaime’s belly to pull him up onto his knees while pushing his right fist between the boy’s shoulder blades to show that he wanted the boy to press his chest and cheek into the mattress. He then mounted the boy’s ass, high, thrust up inside his ass, and rode him like he was a stallion and Jamie was his mare. He was impressed with how resilient and yielding the boy was. He’d planned on ending this quickly following a burst of cum, but maybe he’d keep the boy for a while for sport. The other sailors would enjoy him too. He might even be able to take two cocks at once before he succumbed.

“Tómalo, tómalo. Déjame entrar profundo, niño bonito—Take it, take it. Let me in deep, pretty boy,” the pirate snarled.

The boy tried to relax, tried to please the pirate. He was able to breathe now and had lost shock enough to realize what the situation was. The pirate had kept a dagger close to hand and the boy realized that at any moment he’d have his throat slashed. The fucking wasn’t as much a concern as the probability of a bloody death at the pirate’s hand. He was a cabin boy. The fucking went with the job. He didn’t mind the fucking. In truth, the pirate was a lot younger, more handsome, and more fit than the Dutch ship’s captain had been. His cock also was doing a better job of filling, stretching, and working the boy’s channel. Jamie wouldn’t have signed on as cabin boy if he didn’t like being fucked. He knew what the job of a cabin boy was.

Jamie’s one chance of survival, he thought, was to make the pirate want to let him survive for more bed play. That meant he had to please the pirate this one time at least.

“Eres tan grande, tan fuerte—You are so big, so strong,” Jamie cried out in what little Spanish he had learned from having floated around the Caribbean for months, being traded off between men before he had been taken on the Dutch merchantman to serve Captain Holst. He was trying hard to please the assailant. “¡Qué polla tan grande!—Such a big cock!”

On his knees, chest to mattress, wrists bound above his head, buttocks raised, he began rocking back on the pirate’s thrusts and cried out, “¡Sí, sí, fóllame bien!—Yes, yes, fuck me good!”

The pirate laughed and fucked him good, clutching the bound boy’s hips between his calloused hands and thrusting as hard and vigorously as he could in the boy’s passage.

“¡Amo, amo, fóllame duro!—Master, master. Fuck me hard!” Jaime cried out.

The two were so hard at the work of pleasure that they hadn’t noticed that the fighting on deck had gone into a lull but then had picked up again and intensified.

“¡Ya voy! ¡Estoy liberando mi semilla!—I’m coming. I’m releasing my seed!” The pirate cried. Then he did, there was the sound of a musket shot, and the pirate fell over to the side, eyes wide open in surprise and blood gushing out of the front of his crimson doublet and smattering Jamie’s back.

“Hold on there, boy, where are you hurt?” A strapping, young, handsome man in British naval officer’s uniform was standing beside the bunk, working on freeing Jamie’s wrists. He spoke English, so Jaime breathed a sigh of relief.

“Nowhere wounded, Sir. This be the blood of them other men.”

“Ah, good, but let’s get you over to the washbasin and clean you off to be sure. No, don’t look at those men.”

“I seen dead men before, Sir.”

“You have? How old are you?”

“Fourteen, Sir. I be the cabin boy to Captain Holst there.”

“Ah. The cabin boy. Well, let’s get you cleaned up.”

The man helped the boy over to the washbasin, where a sponge floated in a bowl of water. He began washing the naked boy off. “I am Lieutenant Singleton of the British Navy,” the man said. “I do believe we have interrupted a ship of pirates taking over a Dutch merchantman. You aren’t with the pirates, are you?”