Title: Dead Man's Chest
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Captain Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, James Norrington and various permutations thereof
Warnings: character death, violence, non-con, spoilers
Summary: 15 men on a dead man's chest, yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!
Disclaimer: At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.
Word Count: 1,362
Notes: Don't overlook the warnings. I implore you, for the love of all that is holy, do NOT overlook the warnings. If you have an inkling that this sort of thing will rub you the wrong way, now would be the time to stop, before you're reading this like one watches a train wreck. And then you'll be mad at me. But I warned you

VIII. The Deed Done

With the blessing of Davy Jones guiding their ship, Norrington sailed it gently and successfully to the edge of the land and dropped anchor. He removed Will from the mast and brought him back to the cabin where he was to resume his former place in the chair. Norrington went back for Jack, this time with shackles. He bound Jack by the wrists and led him to the bed, motioning him to sit.

"Have you told Will that you paid me a visit?" the Commodore asked Jack.

"Will knows, we both know, all that has happened," Jack replied icily.

"And does he know," Norrington bent low near Jack's face, "how you gasped and shouted and begged?"

Jack was silent. Will clenched his jaw.

"Does he know how you squirmed and writhed and spilled your seed at my hand?"

"And do you know there is nothing you can say which would be ugly enough to make him despise me as he despises you?"

Norrington snarled and struck Jack across the face with his pistol. It produced a grunt in Jack, but he did not struggle. Will strained against his bonds.

"Do you think it would be ugly enough if he saw you manipulated at my hand by his own eyes?" hissed Norrington.

"Do what you will, you have no power over me," Jack whispered.

"Aye, but I do," Norrington spoke softly. He drew a small knife and put it to Jack's belly. Jack frowned deeply, but didn't flinch. Seeing the reaction was less than exaggerated, he flung about and put the knife to Will's neck. Will ground his teeth together as the knife pricked the tender skin above his collar.

"Fine," Jack shouted. "Whatever it is you want of me, you shall have it!"

"Then you will show him precisely how wanton you can be at the hands of another."

Norrington motioned Jack to stand and he stripped him to the waist, leaving his shirt hanging over the shackles on his wrists. Jack swallowed hard and stood very still as Norrington watched him.

"I will be expecting your full participation," the Commodore declared.

"Sounds familiar," Jack sneered.

"Then, I will not have to explain to you how you are required to participate."

Jack set his jaw and stepped forward, reaching for Norrington's belt. Norrington made as if to kiss Jack, but Jack turned his face away adamantly.

"What makes you so shy, Sparrow? Perhaps I shall have to give you further incentive," Norrington threatened.

Jack winced as the Commodore walked over to Will and flicked a little cut into the skin of his face. He looked over at Jack's reaction and held the knife menacingly. Jack wasn't keen to the game, but he understood and was eager to disarm Norrington. He stepped forward and raised his bound hands to the Commodore's shirt, pulling him forward into a hard, sensual kiss. He didn't look at Will, knowing that if he did, he would be unable to continue and the sooner it was done, the sooner he could escape.

Norrington shoved Jack back onto the bed and tore off his boots and breeches. Jack was decidedly unaroused which riled the Commodore further and he mounted Jack's lap, expertly avoiding the knees. He had the knife firmly in grasp when Jack tried, mistaking Norrington for being distracted, to take it away. With a flash, Norrington cut open Jack's palm and stood, scowling. Again, he cut a small nick into Will's face and Will grunted. Jack grimaced more at the small cut on Will's face than the rather large one in his own palm, though he found it hurt a good deal.

"Try that again and I will cut off the boy's fingers," Norrington roared.

Jack gripped the shirt around his wrists to soak up the blood, and hopefully stop it from flowing. He said nothing.

"Do I make myself clear!"

"Inescapably," Jack muttered. He looked at Will's widened eyes with apology, but his sorry state seemed to prevent any sympathy from Will.

"Now," the Commodore began again, "I will be expecting your full participation!"

"Aye," Jack murmured.

Norrington stretched over Jack so that their bodies were flush and kissed him severely. Jack, at first, was resistant, but did his best to appear genuine. Nonetheless, his brows furrowed when the Commodore pushed his hand down to Jack's groin. Jack did all he could to transport his mind to another place and time, willing himself to ignore the presently distasteful circumstance. He intentionally evoked the memories of harlots and lovers and a variety of enjoyable sensations, and he felt the blood familiarly flowing to his groin.

After all, what was a pirate if not an opportunist of all kinds? Jack mused over a hundred reasons why he might allow himself arousal and push away guilt, yet he still wavered. The Commodore, however, was patient and uncharacteristically ardent. He kissed Jack's neck and ran his hands sensually over Jack's skin. Dexterous fingers tempted Jack's flesh, teasing over a sensitive nipple, a vulnerable thigh. Jack caught himself sighing and shut his mouth. Norrington caught the sigh also and smiled maliciously.

Norrington gave no heed to Will's presence other than that he strove to cause Jack to cry out. He took oil from the drawer near the bed with a single hand, while the other hand removed his breeches. The Commodore climbed back into the bed and knelt between Jack's knees. Jack laid unclothed save the shackles which prevented the full removal of his shirt. He breathed deep and even, concentrating with all his effort on removing himself mentally from the situation in order to maintain arousal.

On the other side of the room, Will clenched his jaw and breathed jaggedly through his nose. He tried to keep his eyes closed, but had little success. He was angry with Jack for his ability to do as Norrington asked, but neither was he inclined to be sliced up. He was torn by feeling grateful that Jack was willing to attempt this horrible act to save Will whatever it was that Norrington intended. Will didn't at all know what to think; he was jealous, angry, frightened, appreciative, and above all disturbed. Norrington had clearly gone mad.

Will was compelled back to the scene before him when he heard Jack's familiar grunt. Jack had his legs wrapped about Norrington's bare back, with his own back arched and his bound hands above his head. Norrington sank down onto him, his weight settling into Jack's trembling body. Norrington whispered into Jack's ear and Jack groaned. Will had no way of knowing that Jack was being commanded to respond, on pain of Will's imminent suffering. Will's face flushed with anger, yet he fought against feeling stimulated by the sight. The change of vantage point merely offered him a strange, but undeniably erotic new way to observe Jack's passion.

Norrington instructed Jack to moan and Jack complied. Not wanton enough. Jack moaned again, louder. He shifted his weight, and under the Commodore's command, arched his back, curled his toes, drew a deep breath. Norrington orchestrated a whole host of motions and sounds to perfectly imitate a candid interaction. It was believable enough that Will was unable to distinguish the authenticity. Will saw Norrington's hand reach between them and he knew the hand must be touching Jack, who moaned convincingly.

All the while Will watched Norrington's jaw move but could not hear more than a murmuring, indistinct whisper. He wondered what sort of words could manipulate Jack so. Will wanted to memorize them for himself. Norrington was telling Jack to spend, asking him to think of Will, reminding him that Will's hide depended on it.

"This won't bring you what you want. For his sake, not mine nor yours, I concede," Jack whispered his defiance.

Jack shuddered his exhale and his eyes fluttered shut. The Commodore gasped with surprise and threw back his head. With a final shout, Jack spent and Norrington had no choice, still in his state of shock, but to spend also. He pitched forward violently and Jack accepted his weight. Jack turned his face away and cringed. The deed was done.