He took a moment to glance up, pinning the other bound man on the opposite side of the room beneath a hard stare.
"Do you see what you're missing?" Not quite all of his crew were as well mannered as he liked. "You could have been where he is, Velvet, if you
hadn't disobeyed my command."
Velvet, a gunner's mate of unique precision and fortitude, was stretched out, hands manacled high above his head, his hard cock and heavy balls
harnessed, a lead weight swinging with each surge of the ship, two more weights tugged at his distended tits.
Velvet was as beautiful as any of the men on the ship, and most of the time he listened to orders. Tonight called for discipline in Velvet's case. A
hair trigger temper requiring a strong hand, he'd been less than humble, so certain he'd be the one to entertain the captain tonight. Well, Velvet was
entertaining the master all right, but not in the way the rebellious young sailor expected.
Donté would not tolerate jealousy, or assumption, among his crew. The captain treated all of his mates equally and he would not have any of them
attempting to usurp his authority and causing dissension on the ship. One day, Velvet would learn his place. Or else spend more time on the wall
than in the captain's bed.
Donté walked over to Velvet and trailed his cool fingertips over the man's sweat-soaked chest. He hefted one of the weights in the palm of his
hand and then allowed it to drop away. He heard Velvet's long drawn out hiss as it dragged against a tit.
Dropping his head, he razed his sharp teeth over Velvet's flesh. Lines of red tracked his path. But he didn't sink them into his flesh. He didn't feed.
"Please, Master, I'm sorry for what I did. I'll never do it again."
"I wish I believed you, Velvet. But this isn't the first time, is it? Not even the second. You're smart enough to make first gunner, but your temper
and lack of self-control are your downfall. Be thankful I didn't turn you over to Margan and have him assign you to the bilge pump tonight-wallowing in stinking water for a night might teach you a lesson. That might have been a more fitting punishment. We'll see what a night of
discipline on my wall will do for your manners."
Donté swung away, ignoring the pleading look in the beautiful sailor's whiskey-colored eyes. Swift discipline and heavy bondage was the only
thing Velvet understood. For at least a short time. Sterling handled this one with a firmer hand. Sterling would have had him strapped to the main
mast, a discipline wedge shoved up his ass, and a hundred lashes to stripe his back. Savoir was a much sterner taskmaster when it came to
discipline. Unfortunately Sterling and the Black Star hadn't been due to leave Noctra for another month and, as usual, the beautiful gunner had
gotten Donté to agree to take him on. His blood was some of the richest among the human residents of Noctra, and his skill with the cannon
exceeded by few. If only his temperament better aligned with his name, they all would be much better off.
Yet both Sterling and Donté liked a challenge now and then, which is why Velvet was allowed to remain. Velvet might be a bit of a scallywag in
many ways, but he was just too luscious to exile. Donté walked over to the big white cat lying on a stretch of crimson and cream Persian rug in a
corner of the room. He leaned down to pet the huge Bengal outcast.
"You'll keep him in line, won't you? Too bad he doesn't have your understanding of self-preservation." The snow-white, almost totally stripeless
tiger leaned into the stroke of the vampire. Few animals on the mainland accepted the touch of a vampire. But Khan was different--he was as
cursed as any vampire, and his connection to the vampire was unique.
Donté turned his attention back to Vasily still stretched out on the bed, eyes closed. Picking up the goblet, he moved back to his lusty donor for
the evening. Gently lifting Vasily's head, he tipped the goblet and allowed some of the wine to trickle into his mouth.
Vasily's eyelids fluttered opened and he gulped at the wine until the goblet was empty.
"That's better, sweeting. The color is returning to your face. Are you feeling more yourself?"
Donté set the goblet on the nightstand and picked up the wet cloth from the mauve-colored porcelain basin and bathed Vasily's stomach and
flaccid penis. Returning the cloth to the bowl, he leaned toward Vasily and pressed his lips to the young man's. Vasily's mouth parted and Donté
thrust his tongue deep inside. The rattle of the chains binding Vasily to the bed bled through the needy moans as the sexy young sailor shifted
and arched begging for his master's touch. Donté heard a whimper from the other side of the room. A deep, warning growl from Khan. He ignored
Velvet. There would be time enough to decide what to do about him later. For now, he was simply a decoration on his wall, reminded of his place