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Title: History Lesson
Author: heartofslash
Fandom/Pairing: POTC, The Pirate Way, many pairings.
Rating: NC-17, threesome and more…
Disclaimer: How on earth could the DeMauriers, Sparrows, Turners, Norringtons, Shimuras etc. exist in the present day if they never actually really existed in the past? Honestly, this is so made-up it’s ridiculous.
Warning: OCs galore (Alphonse/Matthew, Wilhelmina Sparrow/Manabu Shimura/James Norrington)
Note: This is happening now-ish, like maybe last month ago or so... a month or so after the events of All Tessieﾒs Children 5. The present day James Norrington gets a history lesson from his newfound friends.
Makes NO sense if you’ve not read the Pirate Way in its entirety, so don’t even bother if you haven’t.
History Lesson
He was a young man, very serious and earnest. Sure of his belief in the Almighty, and honest in all his doings. The ideal candidate for the calling, if it were not for the colour of his skin.
“There was a fiercely debate, and in the end, since his parents were both free, it was decided that he was human enough to serve God, even though he was so dark skinned, and his eventual status in the church would always be in question. Not many felt he should ever be allowed to lead his own flock, but his education and training were seen as good, Christian gestures for the benefit of the less worthy.
“He thrived at the school. He had always been an avid reader, and his writing was powerful and clear. His voice, once it changed, was resonant. He would later become famous for his voice as much as for everything else. It’s said that he conveyed the depth of his people’s sorrows as well as their hopes, and that it could carry across the waves as easily as the light of the sun.
“There were hopes he would become a travelling lay preacher, that he would reach out to the slaves and convince them to reject their heathen pasts and embrace a new life in the Christian tradition. But how could he do so, when it was the Christian tradition that enslaved those poor souls? This was his conundrum.
“He was still young when a new group of house and farm slaves were purchased. He was always confused and ashamed that his brothers were treated as chattel while he, in his position as student, was not. But he was not treated as an equal; he was treated as a pet. Something that one slave, who had been given the name ‘Matthew’, did not fail to point out to the pious, studious Alphonse DeMaurier.
“Alphonse was angered by this observation, but he did not lash out. He knew that Matthew would be punished for saying such a thing to a master, even if the ‘master’ were only Alphonse, the black pet of the white teachers. The remark festered though, and the anger grew in Alphonse until one day, when the others were away from the house visiting parishioners and he found himself alone in the stable with Matthew, he challenged Matthew to a duel.
“Not a physical duel. Alphonse was slightly built and inexperienced in such things. Matthew, in spite of his ill-treatment at the hands of various slave traders, had the physique of a warrior. Tall and broad-shouldered, muscle made hard by constant labour. He’d been old enough to have training and experience in the arts of war, when he was ripped from his homeland and sold to the highest bidder. If the two men had fought, Matthew would have crushed Alphonse without even trying.
“No, Alphonse challenged Matthew to a debate, a debate about his position in the school, the way the white teachers treated him, and whether he was truly free.
“His mother was the daughter of a slave and a master. The master died before Tessie had been born, and had freed his slaves in his will. It was not an uncommon practice. So Tessie had been born free, although her mother was scarcely able to survive in the world as a freewoman. She was little more than a child herself, and had no experience at all in the ways of the world outside the kitchen and laundry of her master’s house. She was lucky to be taken in by a seamstress, who taught her and her daughter the trade, fed and clothed and housed them in exchange for labour. Not so different from slavery, perhaps, but they weren’t beaten or abused.
“His father had been born a slave but was freed as a reward for saving his master’s life in a storm. He set off to seek his fortune, but he never found a chest of gold. What he found, instead, was the daughter of a seamstress, with whom he fell in love. Better than a chest of gold.
“Alphonse was the third child, and beloved of his older sisters. They were never pleased with his calling. They mistrusted the school, the religion, all white people. All Alphonse wanted was to be closer to God. He felt this was the best path. They could not talk him out of it. He felt the calling so strongly. He knew this path would take him to what he desired.
“Now, Alphonse found himself in a stable, confronting and angry, tortured slave who spoke a barely decipherable mixture of his mother tongue and English, but who could be understood well enough to know that he mocked Alphonse’s faith and position, a slave who wore tatters compared to Alphonse’s neat suit, even though he was one of the best-dressed slaves in the household, who’s muscles gleamed in the slant of the afternoon sun as it seeped between the roughly hewn boards of the barn, and who awoke in Alphonse a desire he knew to be heathen and wicked and evil and unstoppable.
“The same desire dwelled within Matthew. The two young men discovered this desire in a mutual fashion, when, in the heat of their argument, Alphonse grasped Matthew’s forearm. Matthew placed a hand on Alphonse’s shoulder. They both froze for silent, dreadful minutes. It is a matter of some debate whether Alphonse or Matthew broke the stalemate.”
“It was Matthew,” Captain Wilhelmina Sparrow interjected.
Manabu Shimura scowled at her. “I’m telling the story!”
“But it was Matthew.”
“And you know this how? It’s my job to pass on the family lore, Wil.”
“Fine. The official story is watered down and romanticized. Everything was entirely mutual from the start.” She turned to face James Norrington. “But don’t you believe it, James; Matthew started it.”
“And what makes you so sure, young lady?” Manabu asked as he landed a playful swat on her behind.
Wilhelmina purred.
James groaned. Please, he thought, don’t start with the spanking again. That would lead to other things, things he wasn’t sure he could take anymore. They’d been in bed for almost a week, with only brief forays to the surprisingly modern shower room below (where the brig had been located on the original Black Pearl.) In between bouts of astonishingly energetic sex, which had thoroughly exhausted him, Manabu and Wilhelmina had been telling him the tales of the Black Pearl and the various clans. James would point to a portrait on the wall, the yarn would begin.
James had to consider them yarns. The depth of detail was too great for there not to have been a good deal of fabrication, or at least embroidery, over the centuries. And the amount of that detail that was of a sexual nature… people simply did not pass that sort of information on to their descendents.
Or maybe pirates did, because Manabu took up the tale where he left off, having decided to leave Wilhelmina’s behind alone for the moment. James could feel his fingers itch to touch the firm, slightly reddened skin. Wilhelmina kept shifting, wriggling her butt to get more comfortable, or perhaps to entice James.
James decided to concentrate on the story; he needed the distraction.
“Alphonse began to teach Matthew. They had to be secretive. It was forbidden for slaves to learn to read or write. It was the clandestine nature of that relationship inspired the slide into something more personal and… shall we say… inevitable.”
“Stuff and nonsense!” Wilhelmina declared, rising on her elbows, which made her breasts sway a bit above the rumpled covers. Beautiful breasts, full and firm, with rich dark nipples.
James looked away quickly, but his eyes met those of Manabu Shimura, and it was always a mistake for James to look into Manabu’s eyes if he wished to avoid sexual engagement. Almost black, they bored into James’ mind, found just the right nerves, and made his tired cock twitch.
“The secretiveness did not lead to the love, the love was always there. They were meant to be. That’s why Alphonse went to the school. His calling wasn’t to any religion, it was to Matthew. Fate!” Wilhelmina was sitting now, gesticulating wildly, rings flashing in the air.
She never took them off. James winced, and then grew hard, at the memory of those fingers wrapped around his cock, smooth edges of the rings cool on his heated flesh, and the feel of her beaded hair slapping against his chest as she rode him. That was the night before, he thought in a daze. Only the night before, but it felt like she’d been doing that to him his entire life.
“Matthew and Alphonse were as much destined to be together as… as Will and Jack!” she declared.
James had heard that whole story. Will and Jack and how they slowly came together and were never parted. That was the prime story, the one everyone added to when he was on Terra Liberty. But he wasn’t on the island now, he was on a ship. Trapped on a ship with two insatiable, untiring and incredibly attractive pirates. And he never wanted to leave. He did wonder if this was the way they enticed all their new recruits. And he often wondered how long this would last. He feared it would not be forever.
Manabu was staring at him again. Staring down at him, actually. It was impossible for James to hide his erection, since they were all naked and it was far too hot for covers. Besides, Manabu was making no attempt to hide his own.
“Let’s not argue,” he said. “I think James has the gist of the story. We’ve told him about their reunion. He knows they had a happy ending. He merely asked how they got together. I don’t believe we know all the details. I’m sure Alphonse and Matthew had many private moments no one will ever know of.” He slid forward a few inches so his hip touched James’ hip. Manabu’s cock tilted toward James like a dousing rod. “Perhaps,” he whispered in James’ ear, “we should show you.”
James coughed. “I, um, I don’t know if I’m up for a demonstration. I’m not used to this sort of, uh, frequency.”
Wilhelmina laughed in his other ear. “James, you’ve been damaged by all that work ethic and stuffy formal…” she was at a loss for words. “…the outside – it’s made you forget what life is all about.”
“Life is not all about sex,” James protested. A feeble protest, because it was.
And it wasn’t. After their first night together, he had worked with Manabu on one of the restoration projects for a week, refitting the third replica of the Black Pearl for use as a floating school in one of the lagoons. Then he’d spent a week on a farm with some of the Turners. Then he’d taught a short course in modern surveillance techniques, enthusiastically attended by a wide variety of students.
Then, a week ago, Wilhelmina had appeared in his modest room in the home of the island’s physiotherapist, Tessie Norrington the third, and announced it was time for a vacation. They’d been drifting ever since. He wasn’t sure who else was on board, but he certainly hadn’t seen anyone else. Nor did he wish to.
He was quite sure Manabu and Wilhelmina were all he could handle. And he wasn’t all that sure of his ability to handle them, come to think of it.
He was rolled to one side as Manabu pressed up against him, hard cock nestle between James’ thighs. “Alphonse was frightened, inexperienced, but he wanted Matthew with all his soul,” Manabu whispered in his ear.
“Shhh, give him some time to get in the mood,” Wilhelmina hissed as she moved back a bit.
Oh, so it was to be role-play, then. He and Manabu, with Wilhelmina directing. Fine, James could handle that. Barely.
He’d almost not survived the night before, when Wilhelmina and he had replicated the infamous thing with the mango and the quill, something Jack and Will had passed on to later generations, or so James surmised. He’d been in the ‘Will Turner’ role, and so it had required quite a long shower and a good deal of soap before he got rid of the stickiness.
“Matthew stroked Alphonse’s skin gently, to soothe him.” Wilhelmina’s voice was low and soft. She loved directing the men, and did everything she could to make it a pleasurable experience.
“They had touched each other before.”
Manabu’s hand was sure, his touch firm. He slid his hand down James’ arm, forward across his belly, up to his chest.
“They had kissed.”
James turned his head as if in a trance, and felt Manabu’s lips on his. He never knew what was going to happen next, but he’d found that if he followed instructions, everything would be fine. He parted his lips and licked Manabu’s tongue.
“They had held each other, breathless and silent in the night, pressed their bodies together and shared their love, but they had not yet…”
Manabu’s fingers trailed down over James’ stomach and over his hips. James took a deep breath.
They had done this before. He could do this. It was not something he’d ever thought he would enjoy, but the feel of Manabu inside him, steel and heat, was exquisite. He’d never done it without being inside Wilhelmina before, though. He’d never actually done it with just Manabu.
Maybe Wilhelmina would join in. He loved the feel of her under him, over him, wherever she happened to be. Her lean hard muscles contrasted so well with her softer parts, and to be inside her was bliss beyond anything he’d ever experienced.
“Matthew rolled Alphonse on his back, touching him everywhere he could reach. He stroked his shoulders, his chest, he played with hard little nipples and ran his fingers over the tight muscles of his lover’s belly.”
James moaned.
“ ‘I want to give you the most possible pleasure’,” Matthew whispered. Alphonse nodded, breathless. His skin was tingling from Matthew’s touch. Matthew looked at the man before him, breathless, lightheaded. The most perfect man he’d ever seen. Smooth skin and lean limbs. The muscles of his chest, the rosy pink of his nipples, the dark hair on his pale chest, the waves of soft brown hair…”
Manabu cleared his throat. “Wil, you’re supposed to be describing Alphonse DeMaurier, not James Norrington.”
“Sorry, luv. Got carried away. He is very beautiful, don’t you agree?”
“Hmmm.”
Manabu’s breath caressed James’ throat, the low rumble of his voice tickled deep in James’ chest.
“Lovely. But tell the story…”
“ ‘I want you inside me,’ he said.”
Manabu growled against James’ shoulder. “Yes, inside,” he repeated.
James lifted his head. Manabu was sprawled across the bed with one leg slung over James’ legs, the light from the lantern playing over the muscles of his shoulders and the swirling colours of the tattoos that covered his back. Manabu was licking his way down, circling nipples, tracing ribs, laving abs. Fingers curled around James’ cock, a hot wet tongue followed.
“Inside,” Manabu said once more.
James jerked his head to the side to see Wilhelmina plucking a condom from the shelf.
“Um,” James interrupted, “inside who?”
“Me,” Manabu said before swallowing James cock.
Jesus. James hadn’t even thought of that. He had never been into guys. But Manabu had sort of sneaked up on him, stroking him, kissing his neck while he kissed Wilhelmina, rubbing his back, caressing his legs, expertly sucking his cock. It seemed so natural. He didn’t even question it when Manabu fucked him the first time, or any of the other times since. Perfectly natural.
But now James was being Alphonse, and Manabu was being Matthew and Matthew wanted to get fucked, and James wasn’t sure he was up to the task. It would require some kind of control. Discipline. Aim, even. He didn’t have any of that. He had all the posture of a rag doll. Except for his cock, which was very very excited by the idea of being inside Manabu.
“It’s your first time,” Manabu whispered against his hip. “Relax, it doesn’t have to be acrobatic.”
“I wasn’t…”
“You’ve got that Norrington scowl, luv. It’s very attractive, but it means you’re worried,” Wilhelmina explained.
“I’m not worried, I’m exhausted!”
“Nonsense, Matthew will get you ready.”
“You mean Manabu.”
“No,” she said patiently, “I mean Matthew. Lie down, Alphonse!”
James lay back.
“Matthew kissed his belly, nuzzling his cock. He lapped at the head, lazy, drowning in the taste and smell of his lover. Delicious, he was. He sucked the cock into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the head. Mmm, yes, like that…”
Manabu mumbled around the cock in his mouth.
“Yes, James is ‘hung like a Norrington’, isn’t he?”
James was about to protest, or demand an explanation, or something, but the head of his cock was wedged into the back of Manabu’s mouth and a sudden convulsion of throat muscles made him see stars.
Hands, everywhere, fingers tugging his nipples, stroking his skin, digging into his hips. Struggle to keep his hips from flying up off the bed. He fought for more breath. Wilhelmina’s voice was in his ear, urging him on, reminding him of what was to come.
Inside.
James pushed ‘Matthew’ off his cock and rolled him onto his back. Wilhelmina slid off the bed and moved around to the other side to give them room. James licked across Manabu’s throat.
“Yes! Alphonse rose up above Matthew and began to taste him. His throat, his shoulders, his chest, licking up the sweat from his gleaming skin. He licked down to his… hmmm, okay…up, yes, up to his nipples again and nipped at the hard buds. Matthew moaned his approval. Alphonse kissed him, swallowing the groan, the rolled him onto his stomach. Matthew did not protest. He strained under the tender caress of Alphonse’s tongue on his shoulders. Down, down the line of his spine. Alphonse paused to lap at the small of his back, to run his hands over the perfect swell of his arse, to spread his legs. That’s it, nudge them apart.
“Alphonse slid a hand between Matthew’s legs, fingers creeping up to…”
Manabu groaned when James’ fingers brushed over his opening. Hands on his arse, spreading him, urging him open. He rose up on his knees, spread his legs more, pushed his arse up in the air.
“…and touched his tongue to the hot flesh.”
James swept his tongue over the firm smooth flesh of Manabu’s arse. He kept licking, pausing to kiss or give a gentle nip, until he reached the centre.
The first taste woke something deep inside him. Dark and rich. He licked delicately at first, savouring the helpless noises muffled by the pillows. Then he stabbed deliberately into the puckered hole. The helplessness turned to a plea. Deeper, harder, he pushed his tongue as far inside as he could, feeling the muscles loosen and open for him.
So caught up in the sensations, he did not notice Wilhelmina had stopped talking until he felt her tongue, between his balls and his arsehole, wet and wriggling.
He moaned and plunged his tongue further inside Manabu. Wilhelmina’s hands held his hips still as her tongue ravaged him. Fuck, yes, this was the kind of role playing he could handle. He copied Manabu’s posture, legs spread and back arched. Wilhelmina was merciless, fucking him with her tongue wildly.
Inside.
As much as he would like to stay like this forever, he had to move soon. He reared up, and Wilhelmina’s hands were around him, on him, pushing a condom on him, handing him the lube.
“Alphonse spread the oil on his fingers…” It was hot and tight inside. “He twisted them together, opening Matthew to him, spreading him…” Manabu was making harsh, insistent noises. “Mathew gasped at the intrusion of the fat cock in his hole…” James just about bit his own tongue off at the pressure of it. “Alphonse pushed forward, slowly, slowly, inching his way into the tight, hot hole…” Could he go any deeper?
Slick fingers played between his legs, and the base of his cock, circling his arse, inside. Inside. Inside.
Wilhelmina pushed James down over Manabu’s back, forced him wider open and deeper inside all at once. One hand pushed and pulled his hips, guiding him, the other had three fingers skewering up into James’ arse.
James let out a howl, Manabu shuddered beneath him Wilhelmina twisted her fingers suddenly.
James lost the ability to discern all that was happening around him. He was aware of his cock being held in a vice, and the delicious burn and stretch in his arse, and a wet tongue on his back, then nothing, then the tongue was on his chest, and then it was gone and Manabu was moaning and there was a slurping sound.
Good lord, he’d failed miserably. He’d come before Manabu. He looked down blearily. Wilhelmina didn’t seem to mind. She was sucking Manabu’s cock with gusto, and Manabu was wailing as he began to come in her throat.
James found a reserve of energy he hadn’t realised he possessed. He grabbed Wilhelmina by the arm and hauled her up on the bed, settling himself between her legs. He lapped at her furiously. Delicious. As delicious as Matthew found Alphonse. As delicious as Manabu found James. As delicious as anything he’d ever tasted, but more so, because the beautiful pirate captain was coming all over his face.
“Fuck! James!” she howled.
Manabu smothered her yells with a kiss. James wanted in on that, so he crawled up the bed and shoved his face between them. Soon there were two tongues lapping at his wet face.
Delicious.
James eventually fell back on the bed on the other side of Manabu, utterly spent. They lay for minutes together, gently stroking, patting, petting, panting. Adrift on the ocean, wrapped together in comfort.
“I don’t think there was anything up Alphonse’s arse when he fucked Matthew the first time,” Manabu observed dryly.
“This isn’t a history lesson, Manny. I wanted him to feel both sides of it at once.”
“It’s not accurate.”
“It doesn’t have to be true to every detail, it has to be true to the emotion of the moment.”
James groaned. “Would you two shut up? Now I’m really exhausted.”
Manabu kissed the tip of his nose. “We’ll give you six hours to recover.”
“Not a second more!” Wilhelmina added.
Then he realised what she’d said. True to the emotion of the moment.
Everyone knew the emotion between Alphonse and Matthew went far beyond lust. Beyond love, even.
Six hours, James thought.
That wasn’t too long to wait…
End
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