Nemerev had been the last of the men to be recruited by Cygnus for their voyage. The two had met in a tavern, at the end of the man's search for men. He had been eager, eager to get out to the sea. There was little waiting for him in the capital except for whores, and Nemerev had desired to sail the seas like a sailor would. The aspect of piracy that Cygnus demanded was only a bonus, especially since he would be paid handsomely for it. Had it not been for his enthusiasm, Cygnus wouldn't have taken him aboard; it was tedious to bring on unseasoned men.<br/><br/>But life at sea was not as great as he might imagine. He would miss when he could eat something that was not beer, salt pork, or hard biscuits. Nemerev was the runt of the pack, and the most junior, and in almost all ways he was last. Last to receiving his ration of food. Last to the whore. It was to be so – he was the least experienced of the crew, and his lack of knowledge would prove to make him the one who took on the duties of a shipboy.<br/><br/>It was with great surprise that Cygnus watched Altair submit willingly, as Nemerev pulled the slave up. Until then, any attempt to force the slave to contribute had been met with stalwart refusal. To see the shipboy who was at the bottom of their skewed hierarchy convince the slave otherwise was baffling. More than a dozen men had gone before him, each chipping away at the slave, and Nemerev had been the one to strike the final blow. Nemerev, the one all of the crew called Nery, on account of him being boyish and unable to grow more than a single chest hair.<br/><br/>Altair crawled close to Nemerev, slithering near and giving the shipboy a kiss of the tongue. Nemerev froze, in what Cygnus took to be shock. Until that point the slave hadn't even moved from his position; raping him had been akin to fucking a piece of driftwood. The boy was likely afraid that even moving would shatter the moment, the slave's submission. Speechless, the shipboy let the slave do as he bid – surely, Altair knew what to do more than he did. Altair encased Nemerev's cock, still slick with the blood and cum of countless other rapes. Then he moaned once, in pleasure.<br/><br/>Nemerev had never been able to afford a whore. How could he? He was born to common peasants, two farmers in what was the most frozen land the world had to offer. The most he could afford was a cockrubbing from a filthy, ugly whore. TO have a beautiful slave bear down on him was almost a blessing from the gods. “Gods, you're a good whore aren't ya, hu -<i>AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”</i><br/><br/>Like turbulent sea did his moan transform. One second Nemerev had been on the first step of euphoria, adrift in bliss, and the next he was plunged into pain, as the slave struck. The scream soon turned into a guttural roar, the type a monster would make. Cygnus jumped to his feet, as three of his crew grabbed hold of Altair, ripping him from the shipboy. Blood and eyeball leaked from between Nemerev's eyelid, as he scrambled backwards, unleashing a torrent of anguished sounds from his mouth. The slave was tossed to the ground.<br/><br/>Immediately, Cygnus drew his sword, approaching Altair at a quick pace. He then pressed the sword against the slave's neck, staring down at the pathetic creature beneath him. Still coated in cum and his face stained with tears.“I thought to spare you from death so many times, you filth. There was many a time I could've killed you. For bringing gods down on my ship. For being a petulant child. It seems that I thought with my cock and spared you because you proffer a good fuck.”<br/><br/>“I'm done with mercy. You're a demon, and it would be better for all if you were to die here. You have made it known that you want to die.” Cygnus pressed his blade against Altair's neck, drawing a singular bead of blood. His eyes were cold, filled with unwavering resolve to see the slave dead. He was about to execute the slave by forcing him to drown on his blood, when another idea occurred to him. “Someone fetch a barrel. This slave will die in the traditional way.”