Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and as such is a product of my imagination and not real life. I beg your pardon if there are historical inaccuracies. The story will include descriptions of sexual activity between teen boys, and in later chapters, activity between men and boys. If material of this kind might offend you then please stop reading. To all others, enjoy! You are welcome to send comments or story ideas to Playbuddy123@yahoo.com
Tortuga Gold - 7 t/t
The sun was just coming up as Tom and a dozen other hands stood by waiting for the Captain's order. Two long boats had been lowered, and now stood off the bow with lines at the ready to pull the Tortuga away from the quay.
"Let loose the stern!" Tawse yelled after the Captain had given the word. Three men took in the stern line while others saw that it was stowed. The bow line was next. With a motion of his hand, the Captain ordered the long boats to tighten the slack on the tow.
Tom could hear the shouts of the boson as he told the men to lay their backs into the oars. It took some doing, but finally the small boats managed to drag the 500 ton Tortuga away from the dock. After more work with the oars, forward movement was established. Slowly and with great effort, the galleon was pulled toward the channel. Tom knew that once the Captain was satisfied the boat was safely on course and well within the channel, he'd order the long boats back aboard. Then the work of setting sail would begin.
Chandler was below decks finishing with the breakfast clean up. It had been a rush to get everyone fed and to their stations for getting underway.
"Sir?" Chandler asked hesitantly, "never been on board when a ship left.." His voice trailed off.
Thatcher looked over from where he stood by the cooking fire. "I suppose you want to go topside?"
Chandler nodded, "If you please.."
Thatcher smiled. "Be back here in half an hour."
Chandler grinned happily. "Thank you, Sir!" he laughed and hurried off.
Tom watched the Captain carefully as he paced back and forth on the quarter deck apparently judging the precise position of his ship in the harbor. Tom saw him nod when Tawse reported that the boats were back aboard and secure. Tom could feel his muscles tighten in anticipation; it would come soon now, very soon. Then, Tawse' voice called out loud and clear.
"Make Sail!" he bellowed in response to the Captain's order. Dozens of men and boys jumped into action and hurriedly started climbing the rigging.
Tom was assigned to the main mast and climbed to the top gallant. With the order from below, he let go the clue garnets and the sail unfurled. Hands on deck trimmed the lines as the wind slowly took hold. The same procedure was done again and again as each layer of sail on two of the three masts was unfurled.
Tom could feel the breeze in his face as the Tortuga slowly picked up speed.
"Larboard," the Captain called to the helmsman and once again carefully judged the boat's position. "Mind the shoals," the Captain called to the lookouts both in the bow and in the topmast.
"Aye, Captain," came the reply from both.
"Midships!" The captain called and the helmsman turned the wheel. "Steady now!" Captain Searle called and the ship headed toward the harbor entrance.
At the order, Tom scurried back down as Tawse walked the deck checking the set of the sails.
"Came up to see for myself," Chandler grinned at Tom as the ship slowly made its way through the channel.
"She's not very fast," Tom shrugged, pulling a line tight and tying it off. But with twenty eight cannon, she can more than hold her own.
Chandler stared at Port Royal as it fell away.
"Going to miss it?" Tom asked softly.
Chandler nodded `yes' and then wiped at his eyes.
"What are you doing on MY deck?" Tawse yelled making Chandler jump.
"Just seeing us off," Chandler whispered as he turned around to face the man.
"Get below, and be quick about it!" Tawse ordered.
Chandler gave Tom a frightened look and scurried toward the hatch.
"Little whelp," Tawse muttered and continued on his way.
Chandler climbed down the ladder, glad to be out of the way of Tawse and his temper.
He had just made the gun deck when a voice called out, "You! Cook's Boy!"
Chandler turned around and peered down the long dark space. His eye's, still adjusting to the low light, could just make out a figure at the far end. The closed gun ports made seeing difficult. Chandler concluded it was a deck hand, perhaps nineteen years old.
"Come here."
Chandler walked closer. The lad was tall and lean, looking all arms and legs. His blond hair was dirty and his clothes needed a wash.
"Could use a bit of fun," the boy smiled.
"Bit early, isn't it?" Chandler asked, making a face.
"Had the late watch, been up all night, haven't I?"
Chandler gave the boy a closer look.
"Name's Luke."
"I'm Chandler."
"So, Chandler, what say? You ready to earn some coins?" Luke reached into his pocket and pulled out two pieces of silver.
Chandler bit his lip, "What do you want then?"
Luke glanced at a cannon, "Just bend over one of those and I'll show you."
Chandler took a look around and saw that they were alone. "I suppose," he whispered and then held out his hand. "Let's see."
Luke stood up and dropped the coins into his palm.
"Good lad," he chuckled, giving Chandler a smile.
Chandler tucked the coins away and slowly undid his britches.
Luke did the same.
Chandler watched as the older lad pulled out a slender but somewhat long cock.
"Never saw one like that," Chandler whispered staring at the exposed head.
"Where I come from they cut off the extra bit when you're first born."
"Did it hurt?" Chandler winced.
"Don't know, I was too young." Luke laughed.
Chandler stared at the thing a moment longer.
"Give it a lick afore we start."
Chandler looked closely and decided it wouldn't hurt to see what it felt like in his mouth. He knelt down and Luke slipped it between his lips. The head was somewhat smaller than others he had sucked, but the length challenged him a bit. He slurped a couple of times, licked the end, and fondled the boy's balls. It soon responded.
Luke pulled his dick out and gave it a couple of shakes. It firmed even more. "There, all ready for a nice warm bum," he chuckled.
Chandler sighed, and pushed his pants down just far enough so that his ass was exposed. He took comfort in the fact that his legs were still covered. He chose what looked like a good spot, lay over the cool bronze barrel of a sixteen pounder, and stuck his rear out.
Luke hacked up some spit and rubbed it over the end of his cock. "Did you do your hole?" he asked as he stepped closer and positioned himself.
"Yeah," Chandler whispered, "caught on to that one from another boy."
"Here it comes then," Luke said softly and pushed forward.
Chandler raised his ass up as the tapered head made its way inside. His ring, nicely stretched from riding the bench in the galley, easily accommodated the thing. Chandler groaned as Luke placed his hands on his shoulders and bent at the knees, effectively burying his cock deeper.
"Oh fuck!" Chandler moaned as the full length slid inside. "How long are you?"
"Not sure," Luke chuckled, as he pulled out a bit and then thrust back. "But, most of the other boys seem to like it when I come calling."
Chandler grunted when Luke slammed in a second time. The slender shaft wasn't a huge challenge, but he thought that the head was finding spots deep inside him he hadn't known were there.
"That's it," Luke moaned softly as Chandler pushed back and fucked himself on the hard pole. "Use that pretty bum," he moaned. He aimed the head of his dick from side to side varying the angle. There was no doubt he intended on getting his money's worth.
Chandler closed his eyes, bent further at the waist, and rocked back and forth on the wonderful thing up his ass.
"Gawd this feels good," he mumbled as Luke hammered into him again and again. "Best I've had, I think."
"You like it then?" Luke puffed as he bent a bit and put more of his legs into the fuck.
Chandler moaned in delight. Luke's hands were now roaming over his back, and had dropped down to hold him by the waist. He reached around to feel the boy's firm stomach. Chandler reached down and started to stroke himself.
Luke increased speed, and pounded harder and harder, slamming deeply into Chandler's ass. His grunts and groans were adding to the excitement of the moment. Chandler pushed back again, he worried that Luke might interpret the action as Chandler being something of a slut. But, he wanted every inch of that amazing thing up his ass.
"Almost," Luke groaned and thrust more urgently, "almost," he grunted.
Chandler wiggled his rear hoping to help Luke along.
"Shit, here it comes," Luke groaned, and pounded in deep. He pulled Chandler tight against his crotch as his cock jerked. His nuts emptied themselves in several long squirts, flooding the boy's insides.
"Ugh, fuck it into me," Chandler whined as he pushed back.
Luke slammed in, his balls slapping against Chandler's upturned ass, "Want me to fuck it in?" Luke groaned, "Take it then," he grunted and worked to shove his cum as far up Chandler's ass as he could reach.
Chandler whimpered, once again moving his ass around on the hard shaft. He was disappointed when Luke finally pulled out. Chandler resumed jerking, but wasn't quite there yet. Luke must have seen his predicament, because within seconds, he pushed his finger up his rear and gave it a twist. Chandler whined as Luke kept digging deeper, forcing Chandler up onto the tips of his toes as the finger found the spot. He pushed his ass back in delight when Luke rubbed him there.
"Oh, fuck, that's it," he grunted.
Chandler's orgasm overtook him. Four long shots of cream shot out the end of his dick and spattered against the cannon. The thick white stuff hung for a moment, and slid down. It dripped onto the floor.
Luke chuckled as Chandler wriggled on his finger, busily trying to squeeze out a few more drops. "Still not done?" he teased and gave another twist.
Chandler grunted one last time and then finally calmed down.
"You're sure a horny little fuck hole," Luke laughed softly as Chandler slowly opened his eyes. Chandler blushed.
Chandler turned to see that Luke had said it with a tender smile.
Luke looked down at his softening member. "It needs a lick," he said bringing his gaze back up and staring into Chandler's eyes.
Chandler hesitated, not sure he wanted to put something in his mouth that had just been up his ass.
Luke gave him an encouraging nod.
Chandler relented and got to his knees. He took the thing in his right hand and licked it, using his left to steady himself against Luke's stomach. He detected the faint taste of bacon but thankfully, nothing else. Soon it was clean.
Chandler watched as Luke put it away.
"Now for some sleep," Luke smiled and returned to his spot.
Chandler pulled up his britches.
"I'll tell Thatcher you was a good lad."
Chandler nodded. "Thanks," he smiled, and then pulled out the two coins, "and for these, too,"
Luke smiled. They looked at each other a moment longer, and then Chandler headed below.
Arriving in the galley, Chandler was relieved to find the bench fully occupied. Two boys about his age were each plucking the feathers from a pair of chickens. The birds were being held by their feet, and blood was dripping from where the heads had been cut off. Thatcher had four more unlucky fowl in a cage on the floor, and the cleaver in his hand looked freshly sharpened.
"I'll have one for you in a minute," he said reaching down.
Chandler had never had a strong stomach. In fact, he had already been worried about the increasing motion of the boat as it picked up speed.
"You pulls the guts out of it and then pulls off the feathers," Thatcher explained as he centered a flapping bird, neck down on the block.
Chandler closed his eyes and didn't open them until well after he heard the `whack.'
As he looked down, he saw blood dripping off the block and onto the floor. Thatcher swept the severed head off the board and into a bucket.
The deck tilted, and then everything went dark.
Chandler woke to the sound of laughter and cold water in his face. He was on his back.
"What the..." he moaned.
"Up off of there!" Thatcher barked, and Chandler felt more water in his face.
Chandler slowly sat up and then got to his feet as the boys on the bench chuckled. Thatcher turned around and gave each of them a smack of his hand to the back of their heads. They quickly settled down.
Chandler felt his stomach heave, but managed to hold things down. "Sorry," he mumbled as Thatcher gave him a stern look.
The cook slammed the cleaver down hard. "Now if you're done with your nap," he said sarcastically, "There's work to do!" he yelled.
Chandler jumped.
"Quan, off of there, and get back on deck." Thatcher pointed to one of the boys.
The oriental lad quickly got up and reached for his pants.
Thatcher pulled the cleaver from the wood and waved it toward the bench, indicating Chandler should take Quan's place. The boy turned to leave and it was then Chandler saw his long hair was braided and ended just at the top of his bum. The cute boy turned and caught Chandler looking. He giggled, and smiled widely, then with a flip of his hair, hurried away.
Chandler blushed at having been caught looking. He slowly undid his britches and let them drop to the floor. He was beginning to think being the Cook's Boy on this voyage was less and less appealing. As he positioned the slippery knob and then slowly sat down, he was sure of it.
Tom and probably every hand on board watched the Captain and helmsman for any sign of where the Tortuga might be headed. Beyond a vague notion that Cuba was to the north, and the Spice Islands to the southeast, Tom couldn't hazard a guess where they were bound.
His watch at an end, Tom made his way below.
Chandler was dipping a ladle into a large kettle and dumping a portion of chicken stew on to each man's plate.
"That's all you've got for a hard working deck hand?" Tom snickered as Chandler gave him his share and another boy dropped a piece of bread on top.
Chandler gave Tom a menacing look. "Complain a bit more and then see what you get!"
Several of the men nearby hooted and whistled.
"Go on then," one of them nudged Tom, urging him to put the new boy in his place.
Tom looked into Chandler's eyes. He could see this wasn't the time for teasing. "Right, well, I guess I'll make do," Tom said softly.
Chandler gave him a cold look, and the line moved on.
Tom could feel Chandler's attitude as he sat down next to his friend. The sounds of men laughing, cheering, and carrying on were coming from below and the creaking of wood and the slap of the sails came from above.
"What's the matter then?" Tom whispered as he snuggled closer.
Chandler pulled away. "You didn't tell me the whole of it," he said angrily. "`Make your fortune, see the world!'" he grumped.
"Had yourself a bit of a bad day?" Tom chuckled.
"I had to watch as Thatcher cut the heads off the chickens!" Chandler snapped. Then he whimpered, and tears came to his eyes.
Tom wrapped an arm around him. "Not all fun and adventure, is it?"
Chandler sniffed, tears rolled down his cheeks.
Tom pulled him into a hug. "The first few days is the worst. It'll get better. I promise."
Chandler sobbed.
Tom lifted Chandler's chin and gave him a tender kiss. The boy cried even harder.
Some time passed and finally Chandler wrapped his arms around Tom and hugged him tight.
"You promise?" Chandler choked.
Tom nodded and rubbed Chandler's back.
They kissed again, no passionate sexual moment, just a tender touching.
"Skinner said you toppled over like a tree just been cut," Tom teased.
Chandler seemed to be caught between anger and laughter. The smile won out. "Still got a knot on the back of my head," he blushed.
Tom gently felt the bump and grinned. "Pirates is hard headed," he chuckled, "you'll survive."
Chandler giggled.
The boys crawled under the blanket, snuggled close, and sleep soon came.
Chandler faintly recalled hearing four chimes of the ship's bell. He forced his eyes open. His penis was stiff, made that way due to an overwhelming need to pee. Tom was snoring softly.
Chandler crawled out from under the blanket and quietly made his way up the ladder to the weather deck. The moon was near full and the ship was being pushed along by a steady breeze.
Several of the sailors gave him a look as he made his way to a spot at the rail and lowered his britches. He remembered Tom's warning to always pee downwind, and made the proper adjustments. He thought it was funny to watch the light stream of piss be swallowed up by the vast ocean.
Just as he was finishing, he heard steps behind him. Then he felt the rough strands of a rope end on his ass.
"Wouldn't mind a bit of that," Tawse drawled. Chandler could practically hear him leering.
Chandler quickly pulled up his britches, made things secure, and turned around.
Tawse gave him a menacing look. "You are going to be a good lad aren't you?"
Chandler stared. He had just had one of the worst days of his life and he wasn't in any mood to be played with. "You keep away from me, or some night I'll show you how cooks cut the heads off chickens," he said firmly, and nodded in the direction of the man's crotch.
"Why you.." Tawse pulled his arm back, ready to lay the rope on.
"There'll be none of that!" Tug said through clenched teeth as he held the other man's arm in mid-stroke.
Tawse glared. "I'll have the hide off of you!"
Tug slowly released his grip. "We'll see," he said, nodding for Chandler to run for it.
Chandler took off.
"Back to work!" Tawse screamed as those on watch stared.
Chandler crawled back under his blanket, cold from fright.
Tom, still snoring, reached for him.
Chandler wrapped his arms around his friend and tried to forget.
Comments and suggestions welcome. Write to me at Playbuddy123@yahoo.com thanks, Jon.