History and Fiction - part 2


by Jamie <woodthorne@csi.com>

3. Companions at sea

I woke refreshed in the early hours of the morning to find that I was entwined in McAlister's arms, his early morning erection like a pole against my spine. I didn't want to disturb my sleeping master but my overwhelming need to relieve myself required that I extricate myself from his embrace. I did so as gently as possible and proceeded to attend to my bladder in the bucket provided for this purpose.

Finished, I turned back towards the bed. Despite the cruel manner of my treatment the previous evening, I could not help but stand and admire the rather handsome face surrounded by fair locks and the broad, powerful naked chest. McAlister stirred from his slumbers and, reaching down to his erection, idly massaged himself as he began to open his eyes. Hurriedly I scrambled into my clothes to cover my nakedness.

"Good morning, Christopher," he said. "I hope you have recovered from last night's exertions. Come over here."

I walked to the bunk and sat down where he indicated.

"Good morning, Sir" I replied.

Casually he stretched out and put a hand on my thigh.

"Last night was to demonstrate my authority and I hope that it was not too painful a lesson my boy," he said. "I would hope that you and I shall become friends and that your reservations about satisfying my needs on this voyage shall soon disappear. I would far prefer to have you as a friend than as a simple servant."

"Sir, I have never been with a man," said I, "and I'm not sure that could ever enjoy being rogered. I appreciate your protection and patronage but it would be much better if we maintained our distance."

"Nonsense," he snorted and grabbed my wrist, threw back the bed sheet and directed my hand to his massive organ. "You will get to appreciate this in time," he said. "I will see to it. But I shall try and be a little more sensitive to your innocence if you obey my instructions in future. Now off you go and get me some breakfast while I get dressed."

As I went out to get breakfast I literally bumped into Jim.

"No longer a virgin," he stated. "It is always difficult at first but you'll get used to it."

"Were you ...." I said tentatively.

"Mister Finch and I listened to you and then he had his way with me. I quite enjoyed it and you will too, in time, "my friend concluded. "Now let's get some grub."

As we emerged on deck, we had the first sight of a good portion of the crew who were eating their provisions. To me it seemed a surprisingly youthful crew and there were a number of boys my own age on board. These would be my classmates in the seamanship lessons which we would be given. What I didn't know at the time was that some would also become my companions in other matters as well.

Jim and I quickly ate and took plates of food to our respective patrons and after cleaning the cabin and attending to washing returned to deck where we got the first view of the ship's human cargo.

The convicts were separated into two groups - the men (of whom there were nearly 200) and the boys numbering about 30). All wore chains and had a degree of difficulty moving about. They were on deck to wash and to feed watched closely by members of the marine contingent which McAlister and Finch commanded.

Generally the convicts looked in good health (although 4 were destined to die on the voyage) but they were surly and not in good humour. Most had been sentenced to transportation for the relatively minor crimes of theft, assault, sodomy etc since murderers and the like were generally executed.

Cleaned and fed, the convicts were taken below decks and we saw no more of them for the remained of the day.

I glanced toward the quarterdeck and saw for the first time Captain Neatby deep in conversation with the Bosun. Neatby looked a pleasant enough fellow although, according to one of my companions, he had a reputation for being a stern disciplinarian. He was also reputed to run a sound ship and to be a very capable Captain.

As I contemplated this lord of the sea, Jim grabbed my arm and directed me towards a group of boys who were sitting on the deck awaiting the commencement of our class. Jim and I introduced ourselves and exchanged pleasantries while we waited.

Presently the Second Officer arrived and commenced our instruction. We learned about the rigging and the art of climbing safely and about the ropes which controlled the vast billowing sails of the 'Agincourt'. If our attention wandered, a swift clip around the ears was generally all that was required to restore our concentration.

In due course our training would take in navigation and other such matters but these lessons were generally in a smaller group.

As we sailed down the coast of France that day I became quite accustomed to shipboard life and, to my surprise, even enjoyed it. I made friends quite easily and made the most of our free time scaling the rigging and lazing about in the sun.

Towards late afternoon, our skills were put to the test and dire warnings issued about the consequences of those who failed to performed their duties. We were assigned to different groups on watch and had to help as the ship jibed its sails.

Everything was going fine until one of the groups holding the lee sail rope appeared to be caught by a gust of wind. All the crew holding the rope let go as a matter of course which left one hapless junior midshipmen as the sole custodian of the offending rope. Fortunately he was at the end of the rope furthest from the sail and it had quite a leeway before the slack was taken up and the midshipman went sprawling across the deck knocking down all in his path. He crashed into the gunwale as the sail reached its extremity and immediately became the butt of many jokes. Unfortunately for the boy, the funny side of the incident was lost on the First Officer who immediately placed the boy on report.

The crew retrieved the wayward rope as the slightly injured boy was helped below. We continued with the exercise with a modicum of success.

After the exercise was completed, the First Officer ordered us below to the Midshipmen's' Mess where we were to witness punishment.

Although I had not been terribly aware of it during the day, it transpired that several boys had been put on report thought the day and each evening, before supper, when the circumstances warranted it the ledger would be wiped clean.

The Master-at-Arms (Mr Michaels) was in charge of discipline - a duty he relished. We fell silent as he entered the Mess carrying a list in one hand and a cane in the other.

"Midshipman Swain," he said, staring keenly as the boy who had caused such a commotion during the jibing of the ship, "this is not your first voyage and you should know how to manage the ropes by now. Is there anything you have to say for yourself?"

Although his fate was sealed, the Midshipman in question stepped forward and tried to explain that he had been caught unawares and had not expected the other members of the crew to respond so quickly.

"You are meant to keep your wits about you at all times boy," replied Michales, "and I now intend to provide you with a wake up call which hopefully will keep your mind on the job in future."

With that, he pointed to the table with the cane and the boy proceeded to lean over it, presenting his buttocks to the rest of us. Bent over, his light canvass pants offered little protection as the cane slashed down. Swain was obviously a stout fellow and no stranger to the cane for he barely made a sound as repeatedly the cane cracked across his backside. A dozen strokes were given in all and the only sign that Swain gave of his pain was evidenced by the whiteness of his knuckles as he gripped the table with all his strength.

"Get up boy" instructed the Master-at-Arms and slowly Swain raised himself and returned to the general assembly. His face was red and tears had formed at his eyes but I rather admired his fortitude for I knew I would not have been so brave.

Two other boys were similarly dealt with but neither was as composed as Midshipman Swain had been.

As we were dismissed, I went over to Swain, whom I had met only briefly.

"Gary," I said, "you were pretty brave. I know I couldn't have taken that at all well."

Gary looked up at me and said "thanks". "One more stroke," he confessed "and I would have been screaming my lungs out but I just didn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction."

David Maltby, one of the other boys who was standing nearby and who had just endured a dozen strokes but with much yelling and commotion shook his head and said: "That's really stupid, you know. From now on you're going to be a challenge for that bastard Michaels and he is going to take every opportunity to make you sing. You see, the trick is to make him think that he is murdering you with that bloody cane and hope that he eases off a bit. You were really stupid!"

With that admonition David turned about and left. Gary and I looked at each other, realising that there might just be something in the advice we had just been given.

I left the mess and went to McAlister's cabin to prepare for dinner. Clearing up the clutter was quite simple and I had the cabin in good order by the time he appeared. He advised me that he would be dining with the Captain and officers and that I should fetch water for his bath and then to go and eat and then return. He appeared satisfied with my cleaning efforts although he said nothing.

I went about my chores and met Jim in the process, his duties being not dissimilar to mine. We chatted and joked and generally were quite relaxed. Having secured ample water for McAlister and Finch, we went to have our meal and then returned to McAlister's cabin.

Without any invitation on my part, Jim went to the decanter and poured two glasses of Madera wine and gave one to me. Now although I had indulged in alcohol before, the wine went straight to my head and I was soon in a playful mood.

Jim watched me for while and then came over to where I was sitting and started running his hands over my body. I put down my glass and reciprocated and soon we were locked in an embrace with hands pawing each other. Erections appeared predictably and before I knew what was afoot, Jim had taken my trousers down and was doing wondrous things with his mouth. While I knew that this should not be happening, the passion that developed within me was impossible to resist.

Jim gradually let go of my member and kissed me squarely on the mouth and explored that orifice with his tongue. Unsteady on my feet, edged back towards the bunk and soon were lying together. I broke the kiss and quickly stripped Jim of his clothes and removed my own. Soon we were naked and I was writhing on the bed as Jim taught me some of the refinements of male _s_e_x_. When he turned over on his stomach I needed no further instruction and was soon enjoying the warmth and depths of his anus. We climaxed together and lay exhausted against each other.

"We should do that more often," suggested my companion.

"Too right," I replied, "it was wonderful."

Realising that we should straighten things up, we got off the bunk and I quickly pulled the covers back up and washed the glasses and returned them to their rightful position. We restored our clothes and were brushing our hair when McAlister entered the cabin.

"Good evening boys," he said in good humour, apparently content with his repast. "Mr Finch will be expecting you Jim" he added and Jim quickly went to see to the needs of his master.

McAlister and I chatted for a while about the day's events and the fact that I appeared to have some aptitude for learning. McAlister poured himself a glass of the blood-red wine and I noticed that he appeared to pause for the briefest of moments as he lifted the decanter. As he poured the wine he made no comment and I let out a sigh of relief.

When he finished his wine, McAlister quickly stripped off his clothes which I proceeded to hang and to fold and slipped into bed.

No sooner was he in the bed than he leapt out yelling at me to fetch some fresh linen. As I left the cabin I suddenly realised that the product of Jim's ejaculation was still on the sheets. I trembled at the thought of what lay in store.

I returned to the cabin and changed the bedclothes. As I did so I couldn't help but notice the large damp spot in the centre of the sheet. Finished, I took the soiled linen to the area where laundry was done and returned only to find that McAlister was in bed. I had expected him to be waiting with the cane at the very least.

McAlister motioned for me to join him in bed and as I did so he extinguished the candle.

I thought of saying something but couldn't decide what to say. As I lay there. McAlister put one arm around me and simply said: "Good night".

For a moment I thought that it was possible that he was not going to pursue the matter but as I settle down he said: "In the morning I want you and Jim to report to Mr Finch and I in the Midshipman's Mess immediately after the convicts have been washed and fed."

I turned on my side half hoping that he would have his way with me but instead he simply lay there and soon was breathing evenly indicating that he was asleep.

I spent hours planning what to say in the morning and slept only fitfully.

As daylight came I was awake and had decided to seek some lessening of my punishment by offering pleasure to McAlister. Following my plan, I slipped down under the covers and encircled McAlister's organ with my mouth, trying desperately to recall what Jim had done the previous evening to give me so much pleasure. My efforts swiftly brought a sign of success as McAlister hardened so such an extent that I had difficulty keeping my mouth around the massive piece of flesh. After a few minutes, the preliminary signs of an approaching orgasm became evident in my mouth. Although new to this for of activity I thought it prudent not to stop what I was doing and continued my ministrations.

A few minutes later McAlister grabbed my head and started to force his massive member further into my mouth and then into my gagging throat and quickly flooded my gullet with his seed. He withdrew slightly, which forced me to swallow the salty fluid and then held me there while I continued to suck the rest of the juices from his organ. Only then was I allowed up for air.

Gasping, I made my way to the top of the bed where McAlister was lying with his eyes closed and a slight smile on his face. "That was nice," he said, "and quite unexpected. But if you think that I would change my mind about beating you this morning because of this, you are quite wrong. I enjoyed that but I warned you about behaving and there is nothing that will save you from the punishment you deserve. Now get dressed and about your duties."

I did as I was instructed but did not feel that my failed plan had been without some benefit for my actions had, I thought, brought McAlister and me much closer.

Jim was already on deck when I got there and I informed him of our appointment later in the morning. He looked quite miserable at the news but resigned himself to his fate.

The routine of the morning followed its predictable course interrupted only by an order for "all hands to muster to witness punishment".

The crew crowded onto the main deck as one of the sailors, a man of perhaps twenty or so years, was brought on deck and lashed to one of the gratings which covered the ships holds but which had been raised to a horizontal position and lashed to the mast stays.

Once we were assembled, the First Officer read out the indictment and the punishment - two dozen lashes. The young man's offence had been to make a fist at one of the officers who had tried (successfully) to provoke him my denigrating his manhood.

Immediately the man was stripped to the waist and tied to the grating. The Master-at-Arms then moves forward and swung the cat-of-nine-tails through a wide arc and brought it crashing down on the man's back. The whip flew through the air repeatedly as each stroke was counted out loud and by the fifteenth stroke the victim's back was a mass of bloody welts. Despite his pain, the sailor let out only muffled cries as he tried to show his strength but muffled cries gradually increased in volume as the remainder of the flogging was completed. Seawater was then thrown over his bloodied back and he was cut down and taken below to receive medical attention from the ship's doctor.

I was quite pale from witnessing this first flogging but was assured by Jim that this had been quite mild. "I've heard tell from the crew that the First Officer generally likes to punish men from neck to knee. "Jim observed. "So this was nothing really."

Such a casual approach to such a vicious punishment seemed callous to me but none of the other members of the crew thought the matter worthy of comment.

As the parade was dismissed, Gary Swain came to my side and patted my buttocks saying: "And who's going to be beaten next I wonder."

I looked at him and realised that on a ship of this size, nothing was a secret and that everyone knew what fate was in store for Jim and I.

The convicts were brought on deck and they were allowed to wash and were fed before being taken below to their quarters. I strolled over to talk with some of them but one of the marines pushed me away. I had meant no harm and I was sure that none of the prisoners would have harmed me but fraternising with the convicts was definitely forbidden. I therefore went in search of Jim who was helping with the washing and together we made our way to our appointment.

We arrived at the Mess to find it empty. Jim was in a somewhat belligerent mood complaining that we had to share a bed with our respective officer while they took exception to our actions. As he ranted, I simply stared at the table over which I was to shortly be held and, instinctively, my hands went to my rear as if to rub away the pain before it had even arrived.

Jim fell silent as the door opened and McAlister and Finch entered. Finch closed the door.

"Alright boys," said McAlister, "buggery is a most serious matter and punishable under the Queen's Regulations with a public flogging. Since you share that in common with us, we have decided to punish you rather than report this to the Captain. We hope that you will realise that your punishment is for doing what you did in my bed and without my permission. You (pointing at me) should know better than to give yourself to another boy when you know that you are to serve me."

Finch stopped McAlister's tirade saying: "They know what they did was wrong and that's all that needs to be said. Now, both of you drop those pants and we'll see who is the better singer."

I looked a Jim who was as upset as I that we were going to be punished on our naked buttocks since we had both assumed that we would at least have some protection this time.

As we removed our pants there was a knock at the door. McAlister went to answer and accepted from some unseen fellow two canes. He thanked whoever had brought the dreaded instruments and closed the door. McAlister handed one of the canes to Mr Finch and then moved towards Jim. With the end of his cane McAlister lifted Jim's penis into view.

After studying it for a moment he said: "So this is what has been buggering my boy. Not much of a weapon by comparison, I must say". He laughed.

"Please Sir," I stuttered, "it was not Jim who was doing the rogering, it was me."

"Well," replied McAlister, "I am surprised. I had intended to beat this offending instrument but it seems that Mr Finch will now have that responsibility."

Finch moved toward me and gave my penis a few light smacks on the underside which had the effect of causing it to rise a little. He then pushed me to the table and laid my organ on the top and pushed my shirt out of the way. I let out an almighty yell as the cane flashed down and caught the highly sensitive tip and I collapsed on the floor holding my stricken member.

"That should teach you were not to put that thing," he said, apparently satisfied that I gotten the message. "Now get up and stand over there while I attend to this little whore myself."

Tears streamed down my face as I rose and stood in the corner.

Jim was then instructed to lie on the table gripping the far end. He did so which left his prominent backside in the air and his legs pointing straight out over the end of the table.

McAlister then went to Jim's legs and held them wide apart as Finch instructed Jim not to let go of the end of the table or else he would receive extra strokes.

I watched in horror as the beating began. The cane whistled down time and again as Jim yelped and cried and begged for him to stop. From the tops of Jim's buttocks to well down his thighs, ugly purplish-red stripes appeared and yet the beating continued. Neither Jim nor I were counting but some twenty five or thirty strokes must have been administered and, without any room for movement of his body because it was lying on the top of the table, every stroke had maximum effect.

When the beating finished, Jim was a quivering, exhausted and pathetic figure. He had great difficulty sliding off the table and used his shirttails to dry his face and snotty nose. He made to grab his pants but was warned that he would not be needing them for a while yet.

"You can't," he pleaded, knowing full well that his punishment was not yet over.

"I can and I will," replied Finch and directed the boy to stand beside me.

McAlister then directed me to the table and proceeded to lash my buttocks and thighs to a point where I thought I would pass out. My cries and pleas for him to stop went unanswered as he thrashed away with all his might. My buttocks turned from fiery pain to a single mass of agony and by the time he was finished my cries had been reduced to a single uninterrupted groan of agony.

I didn't even hear the instruction to get up such was the overwhelming nature of my pain and McAlister had to grab me and help me down in order to get any response from my body.

I stood beside Jim who had his hands clamped to his backside and I did the same. The swelling had already commenced and my arse felt as if it were twice its normal size.

Finch and McAlister conferred and announced that we should receive another dozen strokes and then the matter would be finished. Jim was pulled forward and made the bend over the desk.

Suddenly the purpose of the different placements of our bodies became apparent for Jim's swollen backside was now thrust outwards which would ensure that the additional strokes would have maximum effect.

Jim sobbed as he waited and Finch finally drew back the cane and swung it with all his force. He immediately drew blood as Jim shrieked in pain. Every additional stroke had the same effect and by the time the twelfth stroke had been applied, Jim's backside looked like raw beef.

Jim and I exchanged places and McAlister applied the cane with gusto, again drawing blood with every stroke. When he had finished, he came to me and grabbed me by my hair and looking into my eyes with shocking anger said: "Don't you ever do that again or I'll take a birch to you." He banged my head back down on the table and swept out of the room with Finch close at his heels.

Sobbing helplessly, I tried to stand but needed Jim's help to do so.

Holding each other for support, we stumbled the twenty or so paces to the surgeon's cabin to seek assistance. The Surgeon, a kindly old fellow lay us down together on his table and cleaned our bleeding posteriors. He made no comment - he had seen it all before. Once the bleeding had stopped, he applied some ointment to help the healing process.

"That should do the trick," he said as he finished and dismissed us with a suggestion that we retrieve our pants since the sight of two half-naked boys might give rise to unwanted attention from others. Neither Jim nor I had realised up to that moment that we were still unclothed and, for that matter, we didn't really care.


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