"All of this is dangerous for me," Sam points out, calm as anything. Perhaps it's the shock. Perhaps Walker broke something in him that's supposed to keep feeling fear. Sam fought like like hell and still ended up naked, chained, about to be used and then either kept chained in that room, or discarded if he couldn't please.
"Here's the thing. I don't want to stay here. I don't want to be mated only as a thin layer of protection from a horde of men used to pillage and plunder as they please. And you're one of them. You have to know that it will not end well for me in the long run. So you can keep me here and I will serve you in your bed, and you will have to wait for the day your crew's desires and boredoms outweigh their fear of your retribution. Keep me here and I'm sure I will please you, and perhaps I will not hate you, but know you will be dooming me to becoming crew property eventually. You will have to live waiting for that day to come, or wondering when I will sleep your grasp enough to find the only way to freedom left when caged and waiting to become plunder."
Sam takes another deep drink. Lets the words hang in he hair. He's grown up practical like this. He knows what Bucky thinks he can prevent will happen, inevitable as the tide. No matter who or what Bucky is, eventually the fear of consequences will no longer stall someone, anyone. And once the first man falls, it is like flood gates opening. Sam has seen this happen. There is no place worse for it than a ship one cannot escape, trapped without the comfort of a soft, slick hole for months on end, bored between raids.
"You can use me, and if you are not cruel I will try to be good to you, and learn what I can in a single night to please you, and then you can send me away. My fate does not need to concern you. You can sail away with your crew, and know I do not resent you for choosing this ship and the people on it over taking care of me. I am a stranger, and you might not have stolen me by accident, but you are not as of yet obligated to me in any fashion. You don't need to feel shame about abandoning me to the whims of the rest of the world once you are done, as you have made no promises yet. And trust me - I do know what those whims are."
The curtain slides to the floor. In the light of the caibin's oil lantern, Sam's dark skin gleams. Bruised dark in places. But oh, he is beautiful.
"You can take me far away, and I will make every effort so I will learn to adore and perhaps even to love you. I will be yours and yours alone, and you can court me as you know an omega should be courted, if you wish to do more than get your dick wet inside of them. You can mate me and you can be free. Because this..." He gestures to the small cabin. "This is not freedom, just because it is your choice."
no subject
"Here's the thing. I don't want to stay here. I don't want to be mated only as a thin layer of protection from a horde of men used to pillage and plunder as they please. And you're one of them. You have to know that it will not end well for me in the long run. So you can keep me here and I will serve you in your bed, and you will have to wait for the day your crew's desires and boredoms outweigh their fear of your retribution. Keep me here and I'm sure I will please you, and perhaps I will not hate you, but know you will be dooming me to becoming crew property eventually. You will have to live waiting for that day to come, or wondering when I will sleep your grasp enough to find the only way to freedom left when caged and waiting to become plunder."
Sam takes another deep drink. Lets the words hang in he hair. He's grown up practical like this. He knows what Bucky thinks he can prevent will happen, inevitable as the tide. No matter who or what Bucky is, eventually the fear of consequences will no longer stall someone, anyone. And once the first man falls, it is like flood gates opening. Sam has seen this happen. There is no place worse for it than a ship one cannot escape, trapped without the comfort of a soft, slick hole for months on end, bored between raids.
"You can use me, and if you are not cruel I will try to be good to you, and learn what I can in a single night to please you, and then you can send me away. My fate does not need to concern you. You can sail away with your crew, and know I do not resent you for choosing this ship and the people on it over taking care of me. I am a stranger, and you might not have stolen me by accident, but you are not as of yet obligated to me in any fashion. You don't need to feel shame about abandoning me to the whims of the rest of the world once you are done, as you have made no promises yet. And trust me - I do know what those whims are."
The curtain slides to the floor. In the light of the caibin's oil lantern, Sam's dark skin gleams. Bruised dark in places. But oh, he is beautiful.
"You can take me far away, and I will make every effort so I will learn to adore and perhaps even to love you. I will be yours and yours alone, and you can court me as you know an omega should be courted, if you wish to do more than get your dick wet inside of them. You can mate me and you can be free. Because this..." He gestures to the small cabin. "This is not freedom, just because it is your choice."