Captivating Captive

Fionne had been happy to leave their most important prisoner in Vel’s custody, and she was currently housed in the Aluvian Fury’s brig, which wasn’t as unpleasant as it sounded. There were no steel bars, chains, or leaky bulkheads. Her cell was essentially a small ship’s cabin. It had a cot, a chamber pot, a washbasin, and even a small table with a stool. It was cramped, but humane.

Vel had yet to visit her, content for the moment with a single check to see that she lived. She had still been ****, but the ship’s surgeon had promised she would be right as rain once she woke.

Upon returning from the debriefing, he’d been informed that Catalia was awake, and before heading for her cell he’d allowed himself only one brief detour to freshen up and to fetch Dina to accompany him.

He wasn’t entirely certain where his sense of urgency and feelings of trepidation came from as he slotted the heavy key into the door’s lock. Some of it had to do with the mystery of why Kal wanted her alive, to be sure, but it wasn’t just that. Her mind had also been… special, somehow. He’d taken another brief look at it while she was ****, without making any efforts to penetrate it, and it was still there. That elusive quality he couldn’t pin down, but which definitely marked her.

“Stay out here, Dina, come in only if I call for you.”

His sister’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t protest.

“I will be fine, dearest sister. You saw how little threat she was to me, and in privacy I can even employ my mindmagic without worry.”

Dina nodded, clearly mollified, and Vel swung the door open. He sent her a brief mental pulse to close it behind him as he strode imperiously inside.

Catalia was awake indeed. Awake, and alert.

She was leaning against the edge of her small bed, her blue eyes briefly scanning Vel from head to toe, an otherwise inscrutable expression on her face.

Her garments were tattered and skimpy, and Vel spotted a pile of fabric on the floor. She’d stripped out of most of what she’d been wearing then, he could understand that. Despite the cold sea outside it was rather stuffy in the confines of her tiny cell.

Her body looked much like he’d thought it would, petite but possessed of lean strength, the muscles in her midriff easy to see. There was a bruise on her collarbone, likely from a blow struck by someone that wasn’t Vel. If his own strike to her temple had left any mark, her short and unruly hair hid it.

“Have you come to gloat, my lord?”

The amount of disdain she managed to pack into those last two words was, quite frankly, impressive. Vel wondered whether she had addressed him that way because she knew who he was, or simply because his station was obvious.

Her eyes flicked back down to his legs, accompanied by a spiteful tsk from her lips.

“I thought you were supposed to be crippled. Guess there’s no limit to what noble privilege can buy.”

Oh, so she did know. His brief surprise must have been evident on his face.

“Yes, I know who you are. And if you think it means a damn to me then you can go eat a whole bucket of-“

Vel, long practiced in shrugging off insults and degrading comments and never one to put stock in noble privilege, found himself surprisingly incensed by her disrespect and lack of deference.

Or perhaps it was something in her manner, her bearing, rather than the words themselves, that rubbed Vel the wrong way. Either way he missed the end of what she said, as he blocked out sound and sight for a brief moment in an effort to center himself and calm down.

She glared at him when he opened his eyes, the inscrutability from earlier long gone.

Vel found he was still annoyed, angered, even. But at the same time, he could not deny being drawn to her. She was certainly striking, but just like the anger, there was more to it. Something he could not quite identify intrigued him and attracted him to her.

“Why are you even here if you’re neither going to speak nor listen?”

Her tone grated on Vel’s nerves, and his patience thinned by the second. Even so, he kept his tone level.

“Your insolence does you no credit. It will gain you nothing, save the very outcome you seem to court.”

She let out a short, bitter trill of laughter.

“Ah, of course the mighty lord can’t handle a commoner who refuses to fawn. Did you expect me to throw myself at your feet and beg for mercy?”

She clasped her hands in mock prayer as she spoke. Vel felt his ire rise further.

He inhaled deeply, fingers curling into his palms as he fought for control. Catalia caught the motion at once and, unfortunately, took it entirely the wrong way.

“Are you going to beat the insolence out of me now? Show this commoner her place? I imagine a pampered lordling like you is well practiced at punching down.”

Vel flared his nostrils, letting out a short, sharp hiss of breath. Pampered? What did she know of the hardships he’d endured? He might have grown up noble, but he’d spent his whole childhood and early adulthood a pariah, an unwanted cripple.

“You have less than no idea what you’re talking about.”

Why was he even arguing with her? He shouldn’t care one whit what she thought, and yet he did. He wanted to refute her, show her exactly how wrong she was.

“I know you grew up rich and noble. I bet there was nothing your lord father ever denied his precious son.”

Perhaps unknowingly, Catalia had crossed a line. Losing the battle not to raise his voice, Vel shouted,

“My father was an abusive ass who would rather have had no son than me!”

It did nothing to cow the equally angry young woman; her voice rose to match his.

“At least you had a father! Food every day! A roof over your head! Family to look out for you!”

Before he realized it, Vel closed the distance between them in a single stride. Catalia gave no ground, screaming at him right up until his hand clamped over her mouth.

She struggled, but his grip was iron. Her hands flew up to strike him, only for him to catch both wrists in the equally unyielding grip of his other hand.

Vel’s blood was up, he could feel it hammering in his temples. Something else was up too, straining for release against his breeches.

With a bellow of rage, Vel hurled the gorgeous young pirate to the floor of the cell. Almost instinctively, he sent a quick mental pulse to Dina, letting her know he was fine.

For the first time, a brief flicker of pain and fear crossed Catalia’s delicate features. It vanished almost immediately, replaced once more by scorn.

Giving her no chance to get back up, Vel threw himself on top of her, pinning her lower body with his own and once again holding her wrists above her head in one of his hands.

She squirmed, cursed, and even spat at him. Vel barely registered it. He wasted no time unlacing himself with his free hand, his erect manhood slapping against Catalia’s breeches, only the head touching the bare skin of her abdomen.

Her eyes flared as she understood what he was doing. There was rage there, and fear, but also something else. Excitement, perhaps? Was she a freak along the lines of Dina? Vel supposed he was about to find out.

He didn’t bother opening her clothes and simply tore her shorts away, the sound of the fabric ripping music to Vel’s ears.

She snarled something about his father again, but Vel paid it no heed. He brought his hand back up to his face and, while maintaining eye contact with the furious young woman, spat on his fingers.

He brought the saliva-slickened fingers to her sex and was pleasantly surprised to find it already wet. Even so he made sure to add his own lubricant, then followed it up with another dose.

Catalia’s struggle intensified as she felt him line up with her sex, his head now touching her lips. The fury in her eyes as she snarled more insults at him only further stoked the flames of rage and arousal burning within him.

“There’s nothing you can do to stop this. You are at my mercy.”

Smiling at her, Vel thrust.

She screamed in a sweet mixture of rage, pain, and pleasure, tears welling up in her beautiful blue eyes.

Vel had not been surprised to feel no maidenhead. Despite not being a virgin though, she was pleasantly tight. The reports had estimated she was close to his own age, likely around 19, and the feeling of her pussy supported that.

She screamed again as Vel slowly pulled himself back out. He heard no pain this time, just impotent fury, frustration, and another small measure of pleasure.

Her eyes burned with them all, boring into him while he thrust back in. Even so, she couldn’t hide the pleasure she was deriving from this. Vel laughed, delighted by it.

“Here you are, getting **** on a cell floor by the lordling you claim to despise, and yet you’re enjoying it.”

Her head snapped forward as she tried to bite him, but he kept his face out of her reach. She dropped back to the floor and more tears escaped her.

Vel kept fucking her, the slapping sounds of impacting flesh and the squelching of their sexes filling the tiny room. Catalia managed another burst of furious insults and hawked up another glob of spit, this one hitting Vel square on the nose. He didn’t mind and just chuckled as he kept reaming her against her will.

And then, to Vel’s great delight, he felt the unmistakable quake of a climax around his shaft.

The howl that Catalia released was such an exquisite mixture of pleasure, frustrated rage, and humiliation that it, coupled with the delightful tightness of her unwilling insides, brought Vel to climax too. He made sure to push himself deep before spilling his seed.

Finally, for the first time since Catalia had opened her mouth, Vel felt calm. He let out a delighted little chuckle as he got up and tucked himself back into his breeches. Dina would be happy to clean him off after this.

Despite her defeat, Catalia did not look even the slightest bit cowed or broken. She glared up at him again, the impact of the rage in her eyes only slightly diminished by Vel’s cum oozing out of her.

“Sister fucker.”

Vel was so taken aback, he neglected to think before he spoke.

"How do you know?”

Catalia snorted.

"You think I don't know who my father is just because I’m a bastard?”

Oh. OH!