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Stede woke up drenched in sweat, almost banging his head against Ed’s, who was peering at him from above, nothing but concern all over his face.
“Bad dream?” Ed asked softly, leaning back on his elbows. “You’re groaning, mate.”
“What? No.”
The dream was fresh in Stede’s mind and he swallowed hard, his mouth already missing the tastes he’d been savoring in the fantasy. He could still feel the dream in his body, though; in his tingling skin, in his achingly hard cock. He looked down and Ed followed his gaze, both men acknowledging the tenting sheets at the same time.
“Oh. That kind of dream, huh?” Ed relaxed and smiled, his eyes glinting in the half light of their room, one of his hands wrapping Stede’s erection through the soft fabric of the linens.
“I never… I never thought I would enjoy… that,” Stede whispered, his face hot from blushing.
“Enjoy what?” Ed asked, syrupy sweet, nuzzling Stede’s neck.
“There were… many men,” Stede managed to say, voice strangled by the grasp of shame.
“Hmm. Should I be jealous? Was I there?”
Stede gasped, feeling Edward’s tongue against the skin of his jaw, the shell of his ear.
“As a matter of fact—ah! I don’t think you should be jealous. At all.”
“Really? Tell me,” Ed said, sucking a bruise on Stede’s throat.
“God. Where should I start?”
When Stede enters his room on the Revenge, the young man is already there, resting on the settee with his arms crossed in front of his chest, his legs spread open. His skin is the color of caramel and his hair is so black, dark like the ink of a frightened squid.
“So you’re the Gentleman Pirate, I presume,” the man says in a low rumble. “I like your hair. We always liked yellow hair.”
He sounds familiar, but recognition only comes when Stede sees the snake around the man’s arm. It’s impossible, this boy is in his mid twenties at best, his wavy hair barely long enough to be gathered in a ponytail. But his short beard is so startling black, his demeanor so fierce, Stede’s mind immediately acknowledges the sobriquet this man will carry for the rest of his life.
“Ed-Edward? Is that really you?”
The boy smirks, caresses the hilt of his pistol, and he’s definitely Edward. A meaner, rougher, perhaps even more handsome version of Ed; lean body, stronger arms. He doesn’t wear braces on his knee, his leathers are shining new.
He’s up from the settee quick as lightning, blade swiftly under Stede’s jaw.
“It’s Blackbeard,” he snarls.
He’s so close Stede can smell his youth and his anger, and Stede is terrified, afraid he might get killed, so he doesn’t move. And not unlike the urge one might feel to dive into an abyss, Stede realizes he would let this Edward kill him. He’d gladly offer himself in sacrifice for this devastating, immature god.
But he doesn’t have to. The door opens behind Stede and it’s another Blackbeard—unfortunately not the one he met after being gut stabbed, the one who tended to Stede. It’s the one Stede had broken, with a beard made of kohl and eyes full of regret, his beloved face hidden behind a curtain of tangled silver hair.
“Stop it,” this other Ed says, his voice the same sound a mournful thunder would make; young Ed huffs, but sheathes his blade. “We have him now. He’s ours. No point killing him.”
“Wasn’t gonna kill him, mate. Just scare him a bit.”
“Why kill him? I almost kissed him once,” someone says coming from the washroom, and it’s a third Ed, wearing a beautiful purple jacket and purple satin breeches, black stockings. He looks so soft, with flowers and ribbons adorning his beard, his hair in an elaborate bun at the top of his head. There’s a red pocket square on this Ed’s waistcoat. But his softness is a deception. “Let’s just have him for ourselves,” he says, and there’s craving in his eyes.
Stede shivers then, as the three other men (the same men) all look at him hungrily, crowding him, cornering him. They stalk him towards a wall.
“Let’s ravage him,” young Ed says, a wicked grin forming on his face. “Before the other one appears.”
“I’m already here, child” and Stede looks past the three men to see his Ed, the one with hair tied up in a half bun, eyes clear, salt and pepper beard kept short and fluffy. “But if he’s mine, he’s yours too. He belongs to all of us. Let’s have him together.”
Stedes eyes go wide, and the other Edwards look surprised too. Stede’s back hits the wall, there’s nowhere to run. When he speaks, his voice sounds weak, scared: “d-don’t I have a say in this?”
“Oh, but you already did,” young Ed answers, and he’s the first to press himself onto Stede, gluing their bodies against the wall with needy violence, his thigh immediately shoved between Stede’s legs, spreading them apart.
And then he grabs Stede by the hair and kisses him.
It feels so good.
Stede’s fear melts into arousal that pools on his hips, inside his balls, and fills Stede’s cock as Ed grinds against it. Stede recognizes the kiss, the taste of the tongue, the feel of the skin, but at the same time it’s all so different, more desperate and possessive, harsher. Young Ed bites Stede’s lower lip and chuckles cruelly against Stede’s mouth when he draws blood.
Ed pulls away then, taking a small step back, just so he can stare at Stede’s face.
Stede feels inebriated.
“Shit, look at you,” young Blackbeard says, and he sounds so mean Stede shrinks further against the wall, eyes shutting closed, face burning with shame and desire.
Young Ed slaps him then, hard across Stede’s face. Ed has never hit him before, so Stede gasps in shock. But the burn feels exquisite, and Stede's erection aches, trapped inside his trousers. Shame reaches a peak, and tears well in Stede’s eyes.
“You like this, don’t you?”
Stede opens his eyes, tears now running freely down his cheeks. He stays quiet, because yes.
He does like it.
Young Blackbeard grabs Stede’s genitals roughly through his breeches, pulling them down until Stede cries and tries to grab at the young man’s wrist to free himself—but this Ed easily overpowers him and just glares into Stede’s eyes, unyielding.
“That’s enough,” the last Edward says, but he doesn’t make a move, doesn’t try to get young version of himself away from Stede.
Stede gulps, looks sheepishly at all of them, waiting.
Young Ed is panting, rage blazing in his brown eyes. He smiles then, a predator further luring his mesmerized prey.
Without a word, he releases Stede, only to pull him closer by the waist, grabbing him and lifting him over his own shoulder like a bag of stolen goods. Stede is so surprised he doesn’t fight as he’s carried to an ottoman, and dropped there unceremoniously.
Young Blackbeard is all over Stede again, kissing him deeply, furiously—a thorough mess with the lingering taste of copper.
He pulls back all of a sudden, leaving Stede breathless over the ottoman, tears still wet on his face. Ed nods to the other Edwards, and the four of them rush to undress Stede, to touch him everywhere, to kiss him.
It’s a delicious assault, hands all over him, coarse beards, long hair, leather, silk, smoke, spit. Stede is drowning in a pool made of the only man he’s ever loved, they all desperate to plunder him, raze him to ruins.
He’s naked in seconds, his clothes ripped from his body and shredded to pieces across the wooden floor. They make him lie on his back, one of them kissing his mouth, another licking his nipples, a third lifting Stede’s legs to access Stede’s hole with his tongue, and a fourth Ed swallowing Stede’s cock to the root.
Stede is dizzy inside the maelstrom of sensation, every inch of his skin awake and flaring like never before. He feels drugged, smothered by a haze of sheer carnality. This is what smoking opium must be like, he thinks vaguely.
Stede tries to caress them back, his hands wandering through their bodies, clumsily helping them get undressed. He finds two hard cocks—they’re all Ed’s, the familiar length and girth, the same coarse hair at the base, the same musk—and strokes them, immersing himself in the groaning and grunting around him: all Edward‘s, like strange, impossible echoes.
They blindfold Stede then, with the black cravat his Ed is wearing. It’s unnecessary, Stede is so overwhelmed by the onslaught he’s lost the ability to tell them apart long ago. But it further increases the feeling to a downright murderous intensity—yet Stede has never felt more alive. He hears his own moans, his frantic pleading, everything mingled to the lewd commentary from the swarm of Edwards, their own moaning and cursing flooding Stede’s ears, in an irresistible litany of lust.
Stede’s own incoherent babbling is contained by someone inserting a warm, fleshy prick inside his mouth, so sudden and deep that Stede gags, drools. He hears laughter, feels a pinch on his nipple, and the cock is reinserted before he can think much else. This time Stede sucks it diligently, better accepting the intruder against his throat, at least until one of the Blackbeards, after lavishing Stede’s arsehole with copious amounts of spit, sticks two oiled fingers into Stede’s puckered entrance.
Stede gags again, has to pull his face away from the cock he's sucking, spreading a hand on its owner's hairy thigh to keep him from pushing in again. Stede’s hand is swatted away, someone slaps his face, and he’s pulled by the hair against another crotch, panting and gasping as thick strings of saliva trickle down his chin and neck. A third digit is inserted and Stede’s moan is muffled by the cock inside his mouth.
“So pretty,” Blackbeard says, and Stede can’t tell which one. “Gagging on my cock.”
“Shit, he’s squeezing my fingers.”
“He wants it so bad. Little whore that he is.”
“I wanna fuck him first.”
Then they finally ask in tandem, their voices a perfect choir, “Do you want us?”
Stede mewls yes: yes, he wants them, like a living being needs food and air. He wants them like they are the last thing Stede will ever want, and wants them more than anyone has ever wanted anything in the entirety of time.
Stede’s legs are then spread open, each one held at the knee by strong hands. Someone strokes Stede’s erection, but the cock stays inside his lips as someone else bumps another prick into his arsehole. More oil is poured, and then Stede is filled to the brim in one go. The cock inside his mouth is pushed deeper at the same time, and Stede consciousness slips away for a second, as he feels utterly full. Nothing has ever hurt so good.
He’s overflowing, inundated by Edward. This awareness spreads through Stede’s blood, soaks into his bones, exudes from him like sweat.
The sensation, the very notion of being so fundamentally claimed is, at the same time, pure sweetness and raw violence: a nightmare pretending to be a dream, a dream infatuated with a nightmare.
Stede coughs and sputters as they free his mouth, tears and spit and snot further ruining his used face, but he’s not allowed much respite as the Edward still inside him starts to move. He slams into Stede, so hard and so deep Stede wails. Someone wipes Stede’s face with a cloth and kisses his sweaty forehead, combs Stede’s damp hair back with gentle fingers.
“Easy, love,” this Ed says into Stede’s ear. “You take me so well.”
Someone releases the grip on Stede’s cock. Stede is kissed deeply then, and the Ed fucking his arse is replaced by another one, who climbs on the ottoman, on top of Stede, and licks and bites Stede’s neck as he fucks somewhat gentler into him. Stede’s hands are taken by the remaining Edwards, and he tries to focus on stroking both of their cocks as best he can.
Stede whimpers. The soft tongue exploring his mouth is again replaced by a cock. Stede is barely cognizant as the Ed above him picks up a pace, then thrusts deep one final time and stays there, grinding his hips against Stede until he goes soft and pulls out.
The Edwards rearrange themselves again. The one who has spent inside Stede is quickly replaced. The squelching sound the new Blackbeard makes when plunging into Stede attests the obscene load of come the previous Blackbeard has left.
But it’s good, it makes it easier for this Ed to glide into Stede’s tight ring of muscle. He doesn’t climb on top of Stede, so another Ed can bend over Stede’s body and put Stede’s cock into his mouth, sucking fast and wet, hollowing his cheeks to make it better to Stede. Someone makes Stede grab and stroke a hard cock, and the Ed who just came makes Stede lick his furry balls and his softening cock, still tasting like Ed’s familiar seed, only a bit bitter.
Everything is recklessly good as unimaginable pleasure coils inside Stede’s gut and his thighs tremble—the telltale sign of his climax. That’s when the mouth leaves his cock.
“Not yet,” one Blackbeard says, and Stede cries, begs, but they leave his erection untouched. The hips slamming against him stutter, and the Blackbeard inside him comes with a growl, his grip so hard on Stede’s thighs it hurts. He keeps moving, each thrust slower and more erratic, until he withdraws.
Stede is left alone for a moment, his chest heaving, tears drying over his cheeks. He can feel the semen leaking from his hole and tries to touch himself, frantically seeking to alleviate his painful erection. His arms are immediately grabbed by the sweaty men ravishing him, and Stede whines.
“Please, please…”
“Hush, not yet,” they say.
One of them holds Stede’s arms above Stede’s head, pressing onto them to better restrain Stede and kiss him at the same time.
Stede’s legs are forcefully kept open, and one of the Blackbeards slaps Stede’s inner thighs, right where they’re the softest, the most vulnerable. He’s relentless, each stroke burning hotter against Stede’s skin.
Stede cries softly into the dirty kiss he’s receiving, open mouthed and helpless. The hits, dangerously close to Stede’s balls, send shivers down Stede’s spine, and he throbs with misguided desire and acute pain. His neglected cock feels as hard as wood, leaking at the tip, everything so insanely good Stede wonders if it’s possible to come untouched.
Then someone grabs Stede’s testicles and squeezes them, pulling the tender sack away from its place under Stede’s shaft until it hurts. Stede writhes and cries louder, uselessly trying to free himself from the three Blackbeards holding him down.
“Enough,” he hears; doesn’t know which Edward took pity on him, so he has to feel grateful to all of them as he’s freed, and someone sucks his now softening cock into a velvety mouth and blows Stede into hardness again.
Stede is sobbing; has gone boneless, unresisting, so they move gentler from that moment on. Stede’s carried again: this time one of the Edwards picks him up like a fainting maiden, and he’s carefully deposited on another Ed’s lap and made to kneel over the settee. The Edward sitting there grabs Stede arse to keep him in place, and his hard cock pokes between Stede’s arse cheeks. But it doesn’t move further. Stede’s own erection is pressed between both of their stomachs.
They put Stede’s arms around this Ed’s neck, then caress Stede all over, their hands sliding on the sweat over Stede’s body, softly kneading Stede’s tired muscles. They kiss Stede’s skin everywhere, from his toes to the base of Stede’s spine, the nape of Stede’s neck, even Stede’s elbows, and his skin goes all gooseflesh. The Blackbeard beneath him murmurs gentle reassurances into Stede’s ear throughout the cuddling and the kissing, until Stede’s crying subsides to soft sniveling.
Then he sucks at Stede’s earlobe, brushes his beard against Stede’s jaw and kisses Stede slow and sweet, so tender, so warm. He breaks the kiss gently when Stede is panting, and pulls the blindfold off from Stede’s eyes.
Stede blinks, adjusting to the diffuse light of candles, and is surprised to see that the Edward kissing him with such affection is the young, rude one. His dark eyes are red and wet, and he’s staring into Stede with a forlorn look on his face.
“You’re so young,” Stede whispers, voice small and breaking.
“Not that young,” Ed smiles genuinely, and there are no lines around his eyes. He kisses Stede again, just a brush of his lips. “Do you really love me? Love us?”
Stede just nods, his voice caught in his throat, choked up.
Someone caresses Stede’s hair. He looks up and it’s his Edward, the one whom he lives with now, after everything they’ve been through together, chasing their own happily ever after.
“He loves us. He really does,” his Ed says, and bends to kiss Stede, even softer than young Ed. The kiss deepens, and Stede realizes the three of them are hard, still unfinished. He parts the kiss, caresses his Edward, puts him in his mouth.
“You’re perfect,” Ed says, lovingly stroking Stede’s hair, gently swaying his hips in and out of Stede’s mouth. Young Edward spits in his own hand and uses it to caress Stede’s prick, as the remaining, satiated Edwards help Stede sit on his cock.
Stede is filled again, at the center of this pile of Ewards, being held by them, supported, touched, kissed. Pleasure slowly spreads through him, all around, everywhere, bittersweet and annihilating.
His Edward is the first to come, hot and salty on Stede’s tongue, and there’s so much it dribbles down Stede’s chin. Ed kneels, licks his come from Stede’s jaw, and kisses him, messy and determined, grabbing Stede’s cock over young Ed’s hand and stroking it harder, harder, until Stede moans into his mouth, spilling white and glorious, and then collapsing on top of young Edward.
This is enough to push the young man over the edge, and he wraps Stede’s waist with both arms and slams his hips upwards into Stede, grunting, biting Stede’s shoulder as he comes, eliciting an exhausted, blissful moan from Stede’s lips.
Someone tugs at Stede’s hair, gently pulling his head back, and he finally falls asleep.
“So—lemme get this straight—it was an orgy but the other blokes were all Edwards?”
Stede bites his own lower lip.
“Yeah…they were all you.”
“And they made you come until you passed out?”
“Well…sort of, one might say.”
“Fuck, mate. That’s a hard one to top.”
“You’re enough. Don’t worry. You’re a handful.”
Ed smiles, kisses Stede; then he pouts.
“That’s not fair, man. Now I want a harem of Stedes”
Stede hugs him close, kisses Ed’s forehead.
“I’m afraid I can’t share you, darling. Not even with other Stedes.”
“Didn’t know you were so jealous. Tell me: which one was your favorite Ed?”
Stede giggles. “You’re my favorite Ed.”
It’s true.