Fic: Outrage
Title: Outrage
Rating: hard R
Pairing: Billy Bones/Abigail Ashe
Word Count: 1,005
Summary: Billy Bones intends to send a message to the aristocracy, even if it means sacrificing a young lady's innocence.
Warnings: non-con
Note: Written for Nonconathon.
Was he really going to do this? Yes, he had to. It had been his idea, so it was his responsibility to see it done. Any of the men would be happy to be tasked with this duty, but some of them might take to it too enthusiastically. There was no need for the girl to be harmed beyond what was strictly required for the plan. The point of this was not to hurt her, it was to strike a blow at her father and his ilk, her suffering would only be incidental.
She scurried into a corner when the door opened, and huddled there, but when she saw him, she settled into a more composed position. She looked wary but oddly hopeful, like she expected kinder treatment from him. Guilt and shame threatened to well up within him, but Billy ruthlessly quashed them down. This was a war for survival and she was the enemy’s weak spot.
“You’ll be returned to your father in a few months, Miss Ashe.”
When he boarded a prize and fought and sometimes killed its crewmen, he never thought about how they might have been men impressed into naval service like he’d been. In the heat of battle, dwelling on the innocence of the men facing him and how little they deserved the fate he was about to inflict on them, that would be a distraction and a weakness that would get him killed. This, too, was a battle to be fought.
“And you will carry with you a message.”
He removed the belt that held his weapons and dropped it by the door. It wouldn’t do for her to try to use his own pistol or dagger against him.
“What message?” she asked.
“One that will outrage him and all the good lords and masters of England.”
He knelt beside her and reached out to brush her hair away from her face. He noticed that she did not attempt to avoid the overly-familiar gesture. He stroked her hair again and she did not recoil as though it was a prelude to, well, exactly what it was a prelude to. Perhaps she still didn’t realize what was about to happen.
“I’m afraid you won’t like being the bearer of this message very much.”
She liked him. She trusted him. He could see that plainly in her eyes.
“Your father hangs our brethren in public squares to send a message to us and to put on a spectacle for the amusement of ‘honest’ people. The captain wanted to pay him back in kind and deliver your head to him, but I think sending you home alive with a pirate’s bastard in your belly would make a more powerful statement.”
He watched as shock and then disbelief crossed her face.
She asked, in a near whisper, “You said ‘I think’ - that vile notion was yours?”
It had never occurred to Billy to pretend he was following an order from Flint. It wasn’t too late. She wanted to believe the best of Billy. It would not take much effort to convince her that it was a terrible thing that had to be done and he was sparing her worse by being the one to do it, that he was somehow saving her by violating her. But that would be cowardly. If he was going to do this thing, he at least owed her the truth.
“Yes.”
He expected her to slap him or spit at him, but she did nothing of the sort. She only looked sad.
“I see,” she said.
He allowed his fingers to wander from her hair to her neck. He traced the line of her neck down to her shoulder, and then trailed a single finger across her chest. Her gown was cut low, exposing the upper portion of her breasts, as was currently fashionable.
She was breathing rapidly, chest rising and falling enticingly. Billy wanted to rip open the front of her gown and expose her breasts fully. But he was not an animal.
“I do not think you want your clothes torn or cut from you. Will you please turn so I can unlace your gown and stays?”
She looked at him without moving or speaking for a long moment, and it took all of Billy’s courage not to look away. It was a terrible thing he was about to do to her, and the least he could do was look her in the eye. At last, she turned and permitted him to undress her.
Her nipples were small and pink, and they hardened as soon as he touched them. He gave in to the impulse to suck on one and then the other, eliciting a soft gasp from her before she silenced herself.
He laid her on her back and slid a hand between her thighs, caressing her there with his fingers, urging her body to make this easier for her sake as well as his own. She'd liked having her nipples suckled, so he resumed suckling them, alternating between them.
Her juices soaked his fingers and her body writhed beneath him. His cock was hard and throbbing in his trousers, as eager to take her as she was to be taken.
She returned to her senses when he stopped to unlace his trousers and free his cock.
"No. Please, Mr. Bones, don't do this."
Billy spread her legs and began working his cock into her virgin cunt, going slow and gentle.
She cried out in pain, nonetheless.
Perhaps it was unkinder to prolong this. Billy sped up to a pace he preferred, though he took care not to become too rough. As his climax approached, the very wrongness of what he was doing - fucking the innocence out of a young girl as a 'fuck you' to the men who held power in England - enhanced his arousal.
He felt ashamed of it afterwards. He laid there holding Abigail while she wept, trying to remind himself that he'd done this because he had to.
Rating: hard R
Pairing: Billy Bones/Abigail Ashe
Word Count: 1,005
Summary: Billy Bones intends to send a message to the aristocracy, even if it means sacrificing a young lady's innocence.
Warnings: non-con
Note: Written for Nonconathon.
Was he really going to do this? Yes, he had to. It had been his idea, so it was his responsibility to see it done. Any of the men would be happy to be tasked with this duty, but some of them might take to it too enthusiastically. There was no need for the girl to be harmed beyond what was strictly required for the plan. The point of this was not to hurt her, it was to strike a blow at her father and his ilk, her suffering would only be incidental.
She scurried into a corner when the door opened, and huddled there, but when she saw him, she settled into a more composed position. She looked wary but oddly hopeful, like she expected kinder treatment from him. Guilt and shame threatened to well up within him, but Billy ruthlessly quashed them down. This was a war for survival and she was the enemy’s weak spot.
“You’ll be returned to your father in a few months, Miss Ashe.”
When he boarded a prize and fought and sometimes killed its crewmen, he never thought about how they might have been men impressed into naval service like he’d been. In the heat of battle, dwelling on the innocence of the men facing him and how little they deserved the fate he was about to inflict on them, that would be a distraction and a weakness that would get him killed. This, too, was a battle to be fought.
“And you will carry with you a message.”
He removed the belt that held his weapons and dropped it by the door. It wouldn’t do for her to try to use his own pistol or dagger against him.
“What message?” she asked.
“One that will outrage him and all the good lords and masters of England.”
He knelt beside her and reached out to brush her hair away from her face. He noticed that she did not attempt to avoid the overly-familiar gesture. He stroked her hair again and she did not recoil as though it was a prelude to, well, exactly what it was a prelude to. Perhaps she still didn’t realize what was about to happen.
“I’m afraid you won’t like being the bearer of this message very much.”
She liked him. She trusted him. He could see that plainly in her eyes.
“Your father hangs our brethren in public squares to send a message to us and to put on a spectacle for the amusement of ‘honest’ people. The captain wanted to pay him back in kind and deliver your head to him, but I think sending you home alive with a pirate’s bastard in your belly would make a more powerful statement.”
He watched as shock and then disbelief crossed her face.
She asked, in a near whisper, “You said ‘I think’ - that vile notion was yours?”
It had never occurred to Billy to pretend he was following an order from Flint. It wasn’t too late. She wanted to believe the best of Billy. It would not take much effort to convince her that it was a terrible thing that had to be done and he was sparing her worse by being the one to do it, that he was somehow saving her by violating her. But that would be cowardly. If he was going to do this thing, he at least owed her the truth.
“Yes.”
He expected her to slap him or spit at him, but she did nothing of the sort. She only looked sad.
“I see,” she said.
He allowed his fingers to wander from her hair to her neck. He traced the line of her neck down to her shoulder, and then trailed a single finger across her chest. Her gown was cut low, exposing the upper portion of her breasts, as was currently fashionable.
She was breathing rapidly, chest rising and falling enticingly. Billy wanted to rip open the front of her gown and expose her breasts fully. But he was not an animal.
“I do not think you want your clothes torn or cut from you. Will you please turn so I can unlace your gown and stays?”
She looked at him without moving or speaking for a long moment, and it took all of Billy’s courage not to look away. It was a terrible thing he was about to do to her, and the least he could do was look her in the eye. At last, she turned and permitted him to undress her.
Her nipples were small and pink, and they hardened as soon as he touched them. He gave in to the impulse to suck on one and then the other, eliciting a soft gasp from her before she silenced herself.
He laid her on her back and slid a hand between her thighs, caressing her there with his fingers, urging her body to make this easier for her sake as well as his own. She'd liked having her nipples suckled, so he resumed suckling them, alternating between them.
Her juices soaked his fingers and her body writhed beneath him. His cock was hard and throbbing in his trousers, as eager to take her as she was to be taken.
She returned to her senses when he stopped to unlace his trousers and free his cock.
"No. Please, Mr. Bones, don't do this."
Billy spread her legs and began working his cock into her virgin cunt, going slow and gentle.
She cried out in pain, nonetheless.
Perhaps it was unkinder to prolong this. Billy sped up to a pace he preferred, though he took care not to become too rough. As his climax approached, the very wrongness of what he was doing - fucking the innocence out of a young girl as a 'fuck you' to the men who held power in England - enhanced his arousal.
He felt ashamed of it afterwards. He laid there holding Abigail while she wept, trying to remind himself that he'd done this because he had to.