GULLIVER'S PAGEBOY
by Oliver Hapland
Revised January 2025
These are further tales of Gulliver's Travels concerning the sexual adventures of a young page whom he encounters in the land of the giants.
I hope readers will indulge my attempts at writing in the style of Jonathan Swift's original story. There is some scene-setting at the start that I hope will make what follows more enjoyable. Just sit back and relax as you are transported into a world of eighteenth-century debauchery on a large scale...
Warning: this story contains descriptions of sexual activity between giant boys and men. It is fiction. It is an artistic exploration of its themes and does not advocate them.
Thanks to everyone who has written with comments and suggestions about my stories. Do keep your encouragement coming if you want more. I love to hear from you and I always reply.
Email me: olhap1758472649@proton.me
Check out all my stories:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/young-friends/grantwich-boys-chronicles https://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/adult-youth/schoolboy-stats https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-monkeys-grin https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/the-lustful-little-mouse/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/historical/little-lord-barry
GULLIVER'S PAGEBOY
Further Revelations Concerning His Travels into the Remote Nation of Brobdingnag. By Lemuel Gulliver, Surgeon.
CHAPTER ONE
-- How the author, having been stranded in the giant country, comes upon a boy in a compromising situation, and a deal is struck.
I, Lemuel Gulliver, formerly surgeon and then Captain of several ships, having quitted my house at Redriff on account of the many persons who called upon me there following the publication of my fantastical true memoirs, and having settled in a convenient house in the county of Nottinghamshire, now feel the compulsion to set down at last on paper for posterity several further episodes from my adventures. These concern a certain boy whom I encountered therein and which I have not previously expounded on the grounds of modesty.
It will be recalled by my gracious readers that during my voyage as ship's surgeon aboard the Adventurer under Captain John Nicholas, I had the misfortune to be marooned alone in the kingdom of Brobdingnag on the 16th day of June, 1703. It will be remembered that this land was inhabited by a race of people very much like those of Europe with the exception that Brobdingnagians are a giant race who outscale Europeans to a proportion of some ten times to one. Naturally, all things in this remote kingdom are of like giant proportions, be they trees, furniture or buildings. This should help to explain to the reader's satisfaction the predicaments and perils I found myself in during what follows.
As I have elaborated elsewhere, I came into the company of the King and Queen of Brobdingnag who kept me as a sort of pet in the way that fine ladies in England might keep a particularly curious bird. I was not caged, however, and had my liberty in so much as I could speak and move around freely, albeit within the constraints and dangers that were consequent with being little bigger than a mouse in this gargantuan world. The Queen and her ladies-in-waiting made much fuss of me and His Majesty the King took great pleasure in giving me audience frequently on his table, by which means I was put on such a level so that we could converse: myself bellowing at the top of my voice, and in this way I was able to gain some proficiency in their language.
I was fortunate indeed to have such a beneficent patron in the King, who, being mindful of my discomfiture in such an intimidating world, and of my need to have some small place of my own into which to retreat among objects of my own size, had ordered his royal joiner to fashion a box, some twelve foot square, in which I might dwell. Comfortably upholstered, this room was furnished with a table and chair, bed and closet, windows and door, and a stout ring upon the top by which it could be carried.
Life in the Royal Palace went on much as it does in any court in Europe and I was cared for by a young nurse whom readers will remember had accompanied me whence I came, being the daughter of the farmer who had discovered me in his field shortly after my marooning.
My nurse, being much pleased with her new situation and fine raiment, was wont to leave me of an afternoon alone in her chamber, while she would promenade with the ladies of quality in the palace gardens. For my part, I was happy to be spared her ministrations for an hour or two and, feeling a lethargy following luncheon, would pass the time slumbering in my box, which for safety's sake was placed on my nurse's writing table across from her bed.
It was customary on cold days for a page to come into my nurse's chamber to set the fire when the girl was absent and I became used to the noise of this clumsy oafish youth and paid it little attention, sometimes sleeping soundly right through.
On the occasion that I am about to describe, I was awakened from my afternoon nap, and having lain for a time listening to someone in the chamber, I began to suspect that the noises I heard were not occasioned by the laying of a fire and curiosity obliged me to rise from my bed and peek out of my box.
Upon standing in my doorway, I observed that it was indeed the page whom I had heard. He had evidently set the fire but was now engaged, apparently, in a rather different activity. The extreme bigness of the world around me meant that it was some moments before I was able to comprehend the scene from my vantage point on the table. I noticed immediately that something was amiss since my nurse's cabinet across the room was standing with one drawer pulled open, wherein, several of the girl's undergarments were visible laying dishevelled, whilst others lay strewn about the floor.
The boy, whom I later learned to be around fourteen years of age, was perched in his page's livery on the edge of the bed, some two or three hundred European feet opposite where I stood on my table. With his legs splayed wide and pointed straight, I could clearly observe that the boy had undone the flap at the front of his fine satin breeches and had folded one of the young nurse's undergarments in his hand before him. The noise that had awakened me was occasioned by the motion of this silk and lace wherewith the boy, I observed, was working violently between his legs.
The young scullion had his head thrown backwards and I could just make out the glistening tip of his great tongue where it protruded at the corner of his mouth. His breath came with a sound like great organ bellows pumped feverish fast, and the sum of the whole scene gave me to recognize that the boy was in the midst of experiencing a certain crisis. I watched on for several moments intrigued and rather amused that it should surprise me not at all to learn that the youth of Brobdingnag engage in just the same occupation as does every European schoolboy when he thinks he is unobserved.
When he had finished, the red-faced page eased himself back inside his breeches before I was able to catch sight of his appendage, which disappointed me since I had long harboured a curiosity about the proportions of that part in this giant race of people.
As I watched, he took the nurse's crumpled undergarment, which he had just used so wantonly, sniffed at it, and then folded it neatly and put it in his pocket. He then looked around and noticed me standing in the door of my little house, and the look of shock on his face is not one I will soon forget. He contorted his body as if he had been physically struck and clutched at the foot of the bed with his great hands. When he rose up, I was suddenly afraid for my safety, unsure of what a frightened youth might do unthinkingly in such a panic of shame. I therefore retreated back into my house. The giant boy loomed over me and I stared up at him through the small light in the roof of my box.
Then he seemed to resolve his mind and moved off to the other side of the bed, where he began to gather up the strewn garments and tidy them hurriedly into the drawer in the cabinet. I re-emerged from my doorway and he eyed me warily as I observed him. In a trice he was back in front of me and the pained look on his face told me I had nothing to fear from him.
'I had forgot you were here,' he said to me, wringing his hands.
'So I see,' I replied.
Then the poor fellow fell to his knees before me, holding up his hands in supplication.
'Please don't tell, sir. Please don't ruin me. I'll do anything for you, anything at all!'
The lad was, of course, in full knowledge of the favour I enjoyed with his royal masters, and I was struck by the ridiculousness of my situation, wherein I was implored for mercy by this callow giant who could so easily have squashed me under his very foot.
The boy's face was level with me where I stood upon the table. It was a pretty face, recently touched with the awkward angles of adolescence; his hair he wore to his collar and it had something of the tint of ginger spice, as did the freckles that adorned his nose. He looked so forlorn as he knelt there that I could not but feel pity for him and I reassured him that I would not give him away, so long as he would clean and return the garment I had seen him bespoil; to this he readily agreed. Once this was done, he fell back on his heels and, looking much relieved, commenced to explain himself, something for which I had not insisted.
'Glumdalclitch' (for such was my nurse's name) 'is so beautiful,' he opined, 'I can't help myself. When I come in to set the fire, I want to be close to her so much, to touch the things that have touched her so close. I'm afire with a passion!'
From the boy's candour and artlessness of speech, I was given to the impression that he was simple and I was much moved by pity for him. Had he done this before? I asked. 'Twice or thrice,' was his reply. He told me he had taken to following the girl around, rather like a puppy dog it seemed, but the girl, who was then around the lad's own age, had deigned not to return his advances, now supposing herself, no doubt, worthy of better things.
'I would do anything to win her,' the boy told me and then, clasping his hands, he knelt up so that his shaggy head was again close enough for me to see the soft beginnings of moustachion hair beneath his nostrils.
'May it please you, sir, to help me,' he said. 'You have a special place in her heart. Perchance you could turn her to look with favour upon me.'
The poor page's pleading moved me and I told him that I would support his suit with my nurse, if it was in my power to do so; although I doubted privately that my persuasion would meet with success where his had failed. We conversed about one of two other matters, the boy being of a jovial and loquacious nature, until the peal of the overmantel clock announced the hour of my nurse's return. I bade the lad depart and reminded him of his promise regarding the underclothes.
Little did I know that I was destined to spend a good deal of time in the society of this pageboy.
I hope you are enjoying my story. If so, why not email me with comments or suggestions? Tell me what made you most excited. If you like, tell me how old you are and where you are from. I'd love to hear from you. I always reply, whether it's a one-off or the start of a longer chat. And I'm always delighted to hear boyhood memories.
olhap1758472649@proton.me
Check out all my stories:
GRANTWICH BOYS CHRONICLES
-- An ever-expanding set of stories about the rambunctious lives of the adolescent boys in a busy English town.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/young-friends/grantwich-boys-chronicles/
SCHOOLBOY STATS
-- Joseph gets a shock when some girls reveal his most shameful habit to the class. But he's not alone!
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/adult-youth/schoolboy-stats
THE MONKEY'S GRIN
-- 13-year-old Martin inherits some intimate sports equipment with strange powers.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-monkeys-grin
THE LUSTFUL LITTLE MOUSE
-- the budding young son of a Russian diplomat discovers sex in Victorian London.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/the-lustful-little-mouse/
LITTLE LORD BARRY
-- the tale of a wicked, rich boy in the time of King George III.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/historical/little-lord-barry
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