7. The journey to the East Indies
McAlister left me on board when he took his last trip ashore to supervise the return of the convicts. Frantic activity was everywhere as the final provisions were put aboard, some new sails were loaded and sailors said goodbye to the women with whom they had had an all too brief dalliance.
When the last of the provisions were loaded, Mr Neatby wasted no time in ordering our departure since he wanted to make the most of the prevailing westerly winds which would speed us on our way towards Australia.
Our journey would take us to Batavia and then on to Norfolk Island off the East Coast of the vast southern land.
I assisted with the hoisting of the sails and stowing the precious provisions and was quite exhausted by the time I returned to Mr McAlister's cabin. As I entered I couldn't help but notice an evil looking sjambok lying on the table and realised that McAlister had acquired one as a souvenir whilst he had been ashore. I approached the whip with a combination of fear and curiosity given the origins of the material. I picked it up and was surprised by its weight and could readily tell how just a few strokes had inflicted such considerable damage on the two naked posteriors that had tasted it the previous day.
McAlister entered while I still had the whip in my hand and laughed.
"Well," he said "that should keep you in line, don't you think?"
Horrified at the thought, I stumbled for a response.
"Don't worry Chris," said he "Queen's Regulations wouldn't permit such a thing to be used on this ship. No, I bought it simply to keep as a reminder but if you are really insolent, I could make an exception, so mind you ways my boy."
"Of course," I replied, finally finding my tongue. "This thing could kill a man. Those six lashes that the men had yesterday were frightful."
"They deserved it," he stated simply. "But you are right. This can do terrible damage and," he continued as he patted my buttocks "I would hate to apply it to this. Now keep it well oiled and hang it up beside the cupboard as a reminder to behave yourself."
Taken by the intimacy of the moment, I turned to him and reached up to hug him and was rewarded with a gentle pat on my backside. That night was sheer bliss for me as he made love to me in the most tender manner I had yet experienced.
Having cleared the coast over night, the routine of the ship returned to normal. Two men and two boys were to be punished for their misdeeds in Cape Town and we all knew that a punishment parade would be held at some time during the day. Captain Neatby was apparently in no hurry to dispense justice and allowed the miscreants' anxiety to increase as they awaited their fate.
The two boys attended our classes on navigation during the morning and as we sat to eat our midday meal Jim and I engaged them in conversation. False bravado was the order of the day and each of the boys feigned nonchalance over their punishment. The younger of the two, a lad called West, I had often admired for his rather lithesome features, courteous manner and a pronounced backside. He was clearly nervous as he proudly stated his indifference about what was in store for him.
The older boy, perhaps 18 or 19 years of age, was a rather sturdy lad called Collins. Although not as attractive from my perspective as West, Collins appeared confident in his ability to withstand the lashes of the cane and, given his strong build, I was inclined to believe that his confidence was not misplaced.
We talked about the events which had brought them to this state and it appeared plausible that they had been as much as offended as offender from their account of the brawl which had caught them up. Not unexpectedly, a woman was at the centre of the altercation which saw a divergence of views between the sailors and the locals about the appropriate compensation for the woman's favours. Apparently, the two sailors had considered the proposed cost extortionate and had tried to negotiate a more reasonable fare, at which point the locals had raised objections and a fight had followed.
Perhaps this was not an objective accounting of the matter but the two lads thought that they had some element of righteousness on their side.
By the time the punishment parade was finally called during the afternoon, I could see that the two boys were more than a little anxious and seemed if anything relieved when the time for their punishment arrived.
As we stood at ease, Captain Neatby addressed the crew and indicated his disappointment at the behaviour of his crew. Noting that justice had been meted out to the two marines who had been detained, the Captain indicated that he had decided to restore the miscreants to full rations while sentencing them to appropriate punishment. The two men were ordered to receive two dozen lashes and the two boys to one dozen strokes of the cane.
The routine was as before, the boys being punished first with their pants around their ankles and their limbs held fast.
Contrary to my expectations, the younger of the boys, who was the first to feel the cane, proved more stoical than his older companion. While letting out faint cries as the cane whipped into his backside in a slow and measured tempo, his gyrations and struggles were kept to a minimum. As the final stroke was delivered and he was allowed to rise, West's legs shook a little but with a certain dignity he wiped his eyes and restored his trousers before seeking out the surgeon.
As Collins approached the barrel over which he would be draped, I noticed a shiny substance at the point where West's groin had so recently been. Despite the possibility that this was simply where his sweat had gathered, I thought it most likely that the boy had achieved _s_e_x_ual relief during his thrashing. I made a mental note to question West at a later stage.
The bigger, brawny Collins, once secured, immediately started to struggle against his captors and put on quite a display of weakness, which I was certain, would not impress most of the crew. His cries and pleas achieved nought and, if anything, the Bosun put even greater effort into beating Collins' bum than he had with West. Clutching his wounded backside as soon as he was released, Collins was regarded by all with a certain degree of disdain for his obvious weakness and I saw no sign of compassion on any of the faces about me.
The floggings were routine and the two men took their punishment as best they could. The cat was applied with vigour but the lashes were evenly spread from neck to thigh I think as an indication that even the Bosun thought that their offences were rather trivial.
When the parade was dismissed, I went to join Jim and Ned who were in a group of sailors who were earnestly engaged in conversation. At first I though some sort of protest was being discussed but it transpired that the group were plotting to provide Collins with something to really carry on about. I traipsed along with the group as they set about cornering Collins below decks.
The object of our attention was lying in his hammock feeling sorry for himself. He was easy prey and had no hope of escape.
"What do you want?" he inquired as our group approached.
"We thought we would comfort you," said one of the men in the group and immediately tipped Collins from his hammock.
Jim, Ned and the others quickly subdued the protesting boy and soon had him bent over a mess table, pinned by hands and feet. The commotion had drawn the attention of some of the other sailors who were off duty and soon a sizeable crowd gather around the helpless boy.
"Big boys shouldn't behave like little girls when they get a beating," said one of the sailors who set about exposing Collins' backside.
"Hardly a mark to be seen," commented Ned. "I can't see what all the fuss was about."
At a signal from the sailor who had obviously taken charge of the situation, a soiled cloth suddenly appeared and was thrust into Collins' mouth to stifle any noise.
"Clear a space there," said the sailor, indicating that we should move back and, as we did so, he produced a piece of rope with which he proceeded to lash Collins' backside. Time and again the rope's end lashed the struggling boy until the sailor was sweating profusely.
"Now we'll give you something to really complain about," said the sailor who immediately lowered his trousers and moved into position to roger the boy. "Next time, take you punishment like a man" he said as he brought his member to a state of full erection. Spitting onto his hand, he prepared the rather large instrument and, without any preliminaries, proceeded to thrust viciously into the wailing but gagged boy. The assault lasted for quite some time. To say the least it was brutal and I for one was relieved when the man achieved his orgasm and withdrew.
"I'll have some of that," said one of the group and proceeded to mount the hapless boy.
"I'm next," said another and quickly an order was established for the assault.
During the next thirty or so minutes, Collins received nine or ten _c_o_c_k_s, including those of Ned and Jim. I had decided not to participate but when I was pushed forward I knew I had no choice in the matter and managed a creditable performance of rogering Collins. As I did so, I couldn't help but think that it was advisable to be at the beginning of the line rather than at the end since Collins' arse had been well and truly stretched by the time I entered. Nonetheless, being on top, rather than my usual position with McAlister buggering me, had some consolation and I must truthfully state that I enjoyed the orgasm.
That evening I was lying naked on the bed when Robert returned to the cabin, clearly aroused. He laughed as he saw me lying there waiting for him. "What's this then?" he inquired.
"Well I thought I might welcome you and seduce you," I replied, causing another laugh from my mentor.
I watched as he quickly stripped off his clothes and climbed into the bed beside me. Before he could take command, I set my mouth to work exploring his body and took command myself. As I sucked and massaged him with my tongue and elicited moans of gratification, I got more and more bold and finally licked my index finger and pushed against his nether hole. As my finger pushed in Robert gave a little yelp and looked quizzically at me.
Before he could protest I started massaging within his rectum, finding that solid node which brings such exquisite pleasure and soon had him grinding against my probing finger.
"Roll over," I instructed and, to my surprise, he complied and for the first time I was able to reverse our role and plunged myself into his depths and brought us both to a delightful climax. Sweating from the ever-present heat of the sub-tropics and from our exertions, I lay on top of McAlister with my member still embedded in his rear. Finally, regaining my breath, I withdrew and cleaned myself as he rolled over onto his back and studied me.
"What ever possessed you to do that?" he asked.
"I don't really know, but I just had to," I replied adding "and you seemed to enjoy it Robert."
"Don't get impudent Chris," McAlister responded "and anyway I am surprised that you were in the mood. I understand you joined in the assault on Collins this afternoon."
Sweating now from fear I realised once again how small a community our ship was and how it was inevitable that Robert would have found out what had happened and who was involved. "I just got caught up in it," I replied. "It just happened."
"Well," he said "Mr Finch and I will attend to you and Jim for having taken part since I resent you trying to seduce me so soon after having had another. I sure the marines will not look too kindly on Ned either. We might just arrange for you to find out how Collins feels. Did you know that I still like the boy, even though he does tend to be a bit soft?"
"What do you mean "still like"?" I asked.
"Three years ago at Portsmouth Collins was my cabin boy although I was not at sea at the time but serving as a guard at the prison there. I still remember how well he served my needs and I was very angry to hear that you had all ganged up on him. He's on this ship because I wanted him near me and wanted to look after him and save him from bully boys like you."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know" I replied.
"That's no excuse. I'll think about it tonight and decide what to do with you tomorrow. Now go to sleep." he commanded.
Anxiously I rolled onto my side, facing towards the door and found my gaze settled upon the evil whip that was hanging there. I shuddered at the thought that McAlister might bring that weapon into action and closed my eyes in an effort to shut out the thought. As I did so, the image that confronted me was the sight of the two backsides that had suffered so terribly at Cape Town from the whip. I tried to hold back the tears which formed behind my eyelids at the thought of such a punishment and finally fell asleep as McAlister rolled over and lay one of his brawny arms around me.
I awoke the following morning to find McAlister dressed and leaning over to kiss my forehead. His parting comment "I'll see you later" was almost as seductive as it was menacing.
I went about my routine of ablutions, eating and preparing for our lessons and met Ned as I was going onto the main deck. "Ned, a quick word if you will," I said as I drew him aside. Quickly I explained to him the relationship between McAlister and Collins and told him to warn Jim if he saw him before I.
There was no opportunity to talk to Jim before our lessons began and, no sooner than they had started, when one of the marines approached, presented his compliments to our instructor and called to we three to accompany him. Ned had obviously not had an opportunity to warn Jim who looked like a startled rabbit. We got up from our positions and followed the marine to the Midshipmen's' Mess where McAlister, Finch, Collins and five other marines were waiting. It was actually with relief that I saw McAlister was carrying a cane rather than the sjambok.
"Ah, our little rapists," said McAlister as we entered. "Well, we have decided to show you that it is not quite as much fun to receive as to give, but I think you already know that. Right, let's get on with it. Strip!"
It took but a moment for us to divest ourselves of our clothes and we stood uneasily before the group not knowing how this would proceed.
"Ned," said McAlister "you go to that side of the table, Chris to the end and Jim you will stay on this side."
We moved nervously into the prescribed position, all too conscious of our nakedness. Quickly the others, who had been spectators to this point got to work, pushing us down over the table and securing our wrists to those of the others and spread our legs which were then secured to the legs of the large oak table. Within a few minutes the three of us must have looked as if we were holding hands, such was the manner in which we were tied. Indeed, we would soon be gripping the wrists of our fellow victims as we searched for relief in friendship from the pain we were to endure.
"Right, we shall commence with a dozen strokes well laid on," declared McAlister as he moved into position behind me. Without a word Mr Finch took his place behind Jim and one of the marines moved behind Ned.
My arse was the first to feel the swish of the cane followed by Jim and then Ned. By slow and measured steps this routine was repeated until Ned gave a little cry as the seventh stroke landed on his backside. This slight yelp brought proceeding to a brief halt as the marine who was beating the boy made sure that the blow had not caught Ned's hanging testicles. Apparently satisfied that Ned had not been damaged, the marine stepped back into position and the beating continued until each of us had received his full complement of a dozen lashes.
By the time the twelfth stroke arrived, my backside felt as if it were on fire and I was gripping Ned and Jim's wrists quite firmly.
The canes were dispensed with and McAlister moved to me and ran his hand over my backside as if assessing the success of the punishment.
"Collins, you shall have the pleasure of deciding the next phase of their punishment. How many lashes with the rope did they give you?" asked McAlister.
"I'm not sure Mr McAlister" declared Collins "but I think it were about thirty or so".
I was affronted by Collins' exaggeration since I had witnessed his beating and recalled he receiving no more than fifteen or sixteen blows. I knew better than to protest however and resigned myself to feeling the rope upon my sore posterior.
Three of the marines took their turns administering the beatings. For this purpose they used ropes ends, a new experience in pain for me. The were lengths of rope with a know tied in the end and they hurt terribly as the know gave added impetus to the force of each lash. All three of us were quickly sobbing and trying desperately to stifle our cries of agony but there was respite as the full measure of the prescribed punishment was delivered.
My legs gave way during the course of this beating and I took the remaining blows with the ropes on my wrists being the only thing holding me in place.
When the final blows had been delivered, McAlister again patted by posterior to gauge the effectiveness of the punishment. Then, as I saw Mr Finch lower his trousers and move in behind Jim, I felt McAlister's massive organ pushing between my arse cheeks. As he rested there he directed Collins to take Ned and quickly the boy disrobed and mounted his victim. Mr Finch immediately plunged his manhood into Jim and McAlister brutally forced his way into me.
The pain of the penetration was still something that I had difficulty accommodating but as he drove in right to the hilt it was his public hair and warm flesh on my tender backside which cause me the greatest discomfort. The pounding in my rear continued for a mercifully short period before I felt the invading weapon expand and release its juices into my guts.
McAlister withdrew and cleaned himself and as he did so one of the marines immediately plunged his weapon into the recently vacated hole. Shocked, I finally realised that McAlister truly meant what he had said about understanding how Collins had felt - a realisation confirmed by his parting instructions to his men to "untie the brats if you are done with them before I return".
For what seemed like an eternity, we three were assaulted by as many of the man in the cabin who could manage to sustain an erection and my hole seemed to be continuously on fire as none of the men were too gentle. The pounding continued and, to my shame, I also achieved an orgasm despite willing myself not to do so.
Finally the appetites of our assailants were sated and we were untied and left alone in the Mess groaning and crying from the agony in our posteriors. Juices leaked from our battered arses as we lay huddled on the deck trying to regain control and gingerly I felt my hole with my fingers and was not surprised when I drew them away and found that blood was evident amongst the man juice which was oozing from me.
After resting for quite some time, each of us assisted to others to our feet and, in sheer agony and with great effort, we dressed as best we could having washed ourselves with sea water with its healing salt. We hobbled out of the Mess knowing, as McAlister had promised, precisely how Collins had felt the previous day.
The ship's surgeon visited me later during the day and found me huddled on the floor of McAlister's cabin. He examined me and applied ointments to my backside and my hole and assured me that I would recover quite quickly.
That evening McAlister ignored me and left me lying on the deck nursing my aches and pains. During the night a seasonal storm broke send the ship into wild gyrations and all hands were required on deck to assist in reefing the sails and securing cargo. I had no choice but to assist and the hectic activity rapidly swept away my self-pity and the massive drenching from the sea and the rain washed away at my injuries. For two days we fought to maintain the ship and by the time the storm had passed the entire ship's company was thoroughly exhausted.
The damage to the ship was confined to the tearing of one of the mainsails and the crew set to work making repairs. For more than a day we stitched the sail the sail and took great pride in its restoration at the top of the main mast. A tot of rum was provided to each member of the crew to celebrate the occasion. The fiery liquid burned down my throat and gave me a pleasant and amorous feeling. Noting that McAlister was not on deck, I went to his cabin intending to enjoy his company. When I stepped into the cabin however McAlister already had company for he lay there embedded in the backside of Collins and just looked at me. I retreated from the scene with moisture building behind my eyes feeling betrayed by Robert and fearful that he had forsaken me for the charms of another. Without his protection, no matter how brutal the price I had to pay for it, my future looked bleak indeed.
That night I resolved to sleep on deck but McAlister sought me out and commanded that I return to his cabin. As we entered the cabin he slammed the door shut and grabbed me and held me to his chest. Gently he kissed me and led me to his bed whereupon he gently stripped me of my clothes.
"I needed company and thought you were not up for it," he explained "but don't ever think that I would desert you. You are my companion and I shall stick by you. Collins was here only to provide what I thought might be too painful for you."
I said naught but rose up and kissed him and then turned onto my stomach invitingly. The pain rekindled thoughts of events some days before but he was gentle and considerate in our lovemaking and I spent the night wrapped in his arms quite content with my lot.
For the following two weeks "Agincourt" plowed eastward passing close by Ceylon and then southwards towards the Dutch colonies. Soon seagulls appeared indicating our proximity to land and our relaxed life came to an abrupt halt as the coast of the Indies appeared out of the early morning mist.
Shore leave was soon to be our lot and the crew's morale lifted at the prospect.