The Old Valley Road Hotel.
By Wombat. ------------------------- Any constructive comments are appreciated. I'm at 'bungala_wombat@yahoo.com.au'. ------------------------------------
Chapter 5 part 13.
------------------------------------ Part 48: Durban ------------------------------------
Derek considered his options. He knew that Gertrude did not often receive letters from Albert. The ones that did arrive were rather brief. The last letter she got was sent about four months previously from Singapore. Albert must be on board the ship somewhere. The family was informed that Albert was missing when the ship disappeared. He was listed on the ship's complement as a stoker. Gertrude knew that. She was twenty years old at the time. Maybe on this voyage Albert was not working as a stoker and the ship's manifest had not been updated.
He searched through the ship to no avail. He looked at all the crewmembers and not one resembled Albert in the slightest. He looked at the passengers and again not one resembled Albert.
The storm was getting worse. The ship was being tossed around like a cork by the huge waves. Many of the passengers were seasick. Some of the brave tried to venture outside but were prevented by the crew because of the acute danger of being washed overboard. Great waves were crashing over the ship's bow and washing over the decks. The ship shuddered with each blow of the waves.
Derek knew that there was not a lot of time left before the ship sank. If he could not find Albert on board, he would just go back further in time and keep looking. The thought occurred to him that Albert might have missed his ship, wandered off somewhere and settled down to live in South Africa and had not made any further contact with his family in England. Good Heavens! He may have even married and had children, leaving many descendants. Derek wondered what Gertrude would make of it if that indeed were the case. He would have to find out Albert's fate.
He thought again about Gertrude's photographs. They showed Albert as a fit, athletic man before the 1914-1918 war. He appeared to be about average height. He considered. Albert had been working for about two years as a stoker. It was physically hard and demanding work. In that time Albert would have built up his muscles. The last photo taken just before he went to sea in 1920 showed his head and neck. It did not show the full width of his shoulders.
Derek understood now that Albert could easily be one of those lean, fit, muscular and athletic men stoking the fires in the boilers down in the stokehold. Which one was he?
Derek went once more into the stokehold. He looked at all the men carefully. He stopped the passage of time so that the men were frozen in their actions. There were two men he examined closely. Neither wore a moustache. It could have been shaved off. None of the men in the stokehold were wearing dog tags. He examined the faces of the two possible candidates carefully. He would allow time to pass for a second or two so that the positions of the heads were different. It was freeze frame action like with a video. He decided that one of the men must be Albert. That man resembled the man in the photograph more than any of the other men. He was short, less than average height for an Englishman. He had similar eyes and his hair was cut short but his neck was thicker and more muscular. His face had filled out a little and he had somewhat stronger features. His shoulders were broad and strong. His arms, torso and legs were all lean and well muscled. His torso tapered in a V-shape to a narrow waist and hips. Derek noticed a raised white surgical scar down the front of his abdomen from his chest down to his groin. The man's age looked to be in his thirties but it was hard to tell. The man could well be Albert but Derek could not be certain. The man spoke English with a Liverpool accent. The other stokers called him Buck.
However, he seemed a lot happier than the Albert in the photograph, who appeared there as Janet described him, a sad little man.
Suddenly the whole ship juddered violently. The stokehold deck started to tilt forward. Derek understood that the first gigantic wave had hit the ship, ripping off the forward hatches and filling the forward holds with water. More huge waves hit the ship. She started to list to port side.
"We might be in a spot of bother," said one of the stokers.
"If we can keep the fires going at full steam, we may be save the ship," said Buck, the man that Derek had decided was Albert.
"Rightio, let's keep shovelling, boys," said another of the stokers.
The men frantically shovelled coal into the furnaces, dancing athletically over the tilting stokehold floor.
Suddenly the ship shuddered violently again as a gigantic wave hit. It keeled over onto its side. The stokehold floor tilted up until it was vertical. The stokers slid down the steel plate floor and fetched in a heap up against the port side bulkhead that now formed the floor. Water poured rapidly down the funnels, through the boilers and gushed out through the open furnace doors. More water flooded in through gangway openings. The stokehold rapidly filled with water as the ship started to sink. The lights went out. The men found themselves swimming in deep water in total darkness.
"Shite! Looks like we're for it now, boys," said one of the stokers.
"Can anyone swim?" joked Buck.
"What's going to happen now? Are we going to die?" asked a redheaded young man with a strong Afrikaner accent. He was younger than the other stokers and his voice was high with anxiety.
Buck put his arm around the young man's strong shoulders as they trod water in the darkness.
"It looks like it, Hansie, unless you can think of a way out of here."
"No," said Hansie in a small voice.
Buck hugged the young man.
"Well at least you'll be going to Heaven, friend. The rest of us will all be going to Hell where all good stokers go when they die."
The boilers exploded underwater one after the other in rapid succession. The shock waves churned up the water in the stokehold. The men died instantly.
Derek stayed watching in the stokehold while the ship sank. When it reached the bottom of the ocean, he jumped into the time-line, causing a fork. He continued in the stub time-line that he had created. It was pitch black. The water pressure was tremendous. He switched on his luminescence. The stokehold had been severely damaged by the exploding boilers. He found the stokers' bodies huddled in a corner away from where the boilers had been. Some bore visible injuries. Most appeared unmarked, including Albert's body.
Derek looked at the waterlogged bodies, particularly Albert's, for some time. They looked so dead and pale. Albert had died bravely like his comrades. He joked until the last. He had comforted his anxious young pal. They all knew that the situation had rapidly become hopeless. All the stokers had met their death as real men. At least the end had come quickly.
Derek zipped back along the ship's time-line to when the 'Lochinvar' left Durban. He watched the ship steam out of Durban Harbour. As the ship sailed out north into the Indian Ocean, night fell quickly. The ship was a blaze of lights as she sailed across the dark sea.
He fast-forwarded along the time-line to when the 'Lochinvar' sank. The cyclone had hit on the fourth day out of Durban. The ship had sunk before noon.
Derek went back to the time when the 'Lochinvar' was still tied up at the wharf in Durban Harbour. He scanned back through time looking for when the steamship company was signing on the stokers for the voyage to Bombay. That was late in the afternoon of the day before departure. The stokers would get up early on the day of departure and fire up the boilers. It would take about twelve hours for the boilers to reach full steam pressure.
Derek hung around the office where crewmen were signing on for the voyage. A group of fit strong men came up to the counter. They had their shirtsleeves rolled up, showing their brawny arms. Derek recognised them as some of the stokers on board the doomed 'Lochinvar'. The men gave their names one by one and signed the papers to rejoin their ship after their shore leave. One announced himself as Albert Roy Bennett. He was Buck. He was the man that Derek thought he was. He had certainly changed since the last photograph in Gertrude's possession was taken. He looked quite hunky. He was of below average height but well muscled. He laughed and joked with his comrades.
Now for the dog tags. Derek dropped into the time-line inside an empty shed nearby. He felt the forking of the time-lines. He was in his own stub time-line now. Just for fun he transformed himself into a well dressed strongly built young man. He looked like the son of some notable of 1920s Natal Province, probably a rich planter.
He followed the stokers at a discreet distance as they strolled towards the 'Lochinvar' tied up at the wharf. The hot afternoon sun beat down upon them. The air was hot and humid. It was early in the South African autumn, if one could call it that.
Albert was not carrying much luggage. He had one well-used leather suitcase that he carried easily. Derek took note of it and scanned it with his cryptoscopic sense. The dog tags were packed inside it. He was able to get the fine details. He read them. On them were inscribed the words 'Pte. Albert Roy Bennett' and his soldier's serial number.
Derek was satisfied now that he had the right man. He tagged Albert. Then he disappeared back into the in-between space and the stub time- line stopped. He watched the 'movie' unfold. He still felt a sense of wonder that he could watch events as they actually occurred in the past. He just had to do it from outside the time-line if he wanted to watch the real events as they actually happened.
He followed the men to their allocated cabins. Albert shared his with five other men. All of them appeared to be really good friends.
One of the men was bigger and more muscular than the rest. He stripped off his shirt revealing his splendid torso.
"Well, Buck, what have you been doing?" he asked. "I've been looking out for you."
"Been having a ball," replied Albert cheerfully. "Quite a few actually. Jack, did you miss me?"
"You're a fucking little trollop," growled Jack with a grin. "Come 'ere, you."
With that Jack grabbed Albert and held him in a clinch with his powerful arms. Their lips met and the two men kissed passionately. Albert writhed sensuously against the bigger man's body.
Derek watched in disbelief. He was surprised by this turn of events.
The other four men were watching with interest. They knew what was coming. It was going to be fun, just the thing to while away a hot evening. They stripped off their shirts and started removing their trousers.
"My dick is hungry," growled Jack. "He wants your arse."
Albert was panting in anticipation.
Jack quickly stripped Albert naked and then removed the rest of his own apparel. He made Albert bend over one of the beds. He hoisted up Albert's arse and spat a juicy big gob of spit onto Albert's anus. He smeared the spit over Albert's anal opening and stuck a fat finger up into the arsehole. Albert writhed with pleasure.
Jack spat two more big gobs of spit onto his hand and lubricated his ramrod stiff penis. It was big and fat. Derek judged it to be about seven inches (18 cm) long. The big muscular naked man then positioned his penis at Albert's anal pucker, placed his large hands around Albert's slim waist and rammed his penis full length into Albert's anus. Albert's eyes widened. He gasped at the sudden flash of pain. He recovered himself and pushed his arse backward into Jack's groin. Jack's penis was buried its entire length in Albert's anus. Jack withdrew his cock almost its full length until just the cock head was held inside by Albert's anal ring. Then he rammed it full length into Albert's anus once more. Albert bucked and groaned with the pain and the pleasure.
"You're a wanton," growled Jack as he slowly withdrew most of his penis. "You going to get what's coming to you."
Jack rammed his cock once more into Albert's anus. Albert's eyes widened. His mouth opened wide. He gasped. Jack sped up his fuck of Albert. He thrust his cock rapidly into Albert's anus. Despite the pain, Albert was enjoying it. He was really getting off on Jack's cock ramming up inside him. Derek could see that.
Jack kept on thrusting into Albert's arse. Another muscular stoker stripped naked. He came up and presented his stiff penis to Albert's mouth. Albert licked it voraciously. The man took Albert's head in his hands and Albert opened his mouth. The man poked his penis into Albert's mouth. Albert took it willingly. He sucked on it eagerly. The man eased his cock down Albert's throat. Albert was like a professional sword swallower the way he took the man's cock down his throat. He was enjoying himself hugely. The man fucking his face placed his hands on Jack's broad muscular shoulders and kept on thrusting his cock down Albert's throat.
A third man spat a thick gob of spit into his hand and rubbed it into the anus of the man fucking Albert's face. He lubricated his stiff cock with another gob of spit and then thrust his cock up the anus of Albert's face fucker. The man with his cock down Albert's throat came with a roar and ejaculated a full load of semen down Albert's gullet. Muffled cries came from Albert and he too exploded into orgasm. Thick white ropes of semen squirted out of his stiff cock and splattered on the floor of the cabin. Albert's orgasmic spasms were enough to cause Jack to come with a roar and ejaculate his load of semen up into the depths of Albert's bowels. The third man fucking Albert's face fucker came with a howl and shot his load of semen up the other man's rectum.
As their orgasms ended, the three men connected to Albert fell in a heap on the bed.
Meanwhile, the two men remaining started fucking on one of the other beds. The one was cheerfully thrusting his cock up the anus of the other man.
Jack withdrew his flaccid dripping wet cock from Albert's anus and extricated himself from the heap. He picked up Albert bodily and thrust his anus down on the stiff penis of the man being fucked on the other bed. The man came with a scream and shot his load up Albert's anus. That was enough to tip the man fucking him into orgasm as well.
When the orgy was finished, the stokers got dressed and trooped to the crew's mess hall for dinner.
After dinner, they retired to their hot little cabin, stripped naked and went to bed tired and happy.
The following day the stokers were busy preparing the ship's boilers for the departure that evening. There was a lot to do. The fires were laid and lit. The boilers had to be monitored to see that they were heating properly. The fires had to be set in such a way that the boilers would steam correctly for the whole ten-day voyage to Bombay.
The ship's officers often came down to the stokehold to check that all was going well. There was neither the time nor the opportunity for a little fucking about.
Derek fast-forwarded through the preparations and the ship's departure.
The next day the 'Lochinvar' was steaming northeast at a steady fifteen knots (28 kilometres per hour). It was a nice economical speed. The ship would not use too much coal. The boilers were steaming well. The stokers had done a good job in preparing them. All the boilers needed were the occasional large shovelfuls of coal every few minutes.
It was hot and humid in the stokehold. The stokers were stripped to their undershorts. The men were sweaty, even though they were not working hard.
Albert (or Buck) dropped his undershorts and stood naked but for his boots. He gloried in his nakedness. His body was slick and shiny with sweat. He flexed his arms making his biceps bulge impressively. They were big for a man his size. Buck went through a series of poses showing off his naked muscularity. He certainly had a strong, well- defined body. His muscles stood out, bulging with strength. His torso was classically V-shaped. The raised white surgical scar down the front of his muscular abdomen stood out against his lightly tanned skin.
The other men cheered raucously. They shouted their admiration. Albert's penis started to stiffen.
Jack could not resist his friend Albert displaying his manly attributes. He too stripped off naked and hoisted up Buck by the waist. He spat a thick gob of spit onto Buck's arsehole and then lubricated his own penis liberally with spit. Buck complied willingly. He bent over with his hands on his knees as if he were playing leapfrog. Jack thrust his cock into Buck's arsehole.
Buck gasped at the sudden painful intrusion into his anal canal then groaned with pleasure. He bucked as Jack repeatedly slammed his cock into his arse. He straightened up and leant back against Jack's big sweaty body.
Jack kept on thrusting into Buck's body. His big meaty hands roved greedily over Buck's muscular chest and abdomen. He was enjoying himself to the full as he fucked Buck. His thrusts slowed in frequency because he was determined to make this fuck last. Buck groaned with mounting pleasure. His sexual tension was increasing quickly.
Meanwhile another stoker stripped off naked and ready for action. The boilers needed only a large shovelful of coal every few minutes to keep them up to enough steam pressure to keep the ship steaming steadily at fifteen knots (28 kilometres per hour) across the Indian Ocean.
Suddenly Buck howled in orgasmic joy. He leant back against Jack thrusting into him. White ropes of semen shot out of his ramrod stiff penis and splattered on the riveted steel plate floor.
The contracting muscles inside Buck's pelvis were enough to trigger Jack's orgasmic explosion. He roared and thrust his penis as deep as possible up Buck's arsehole. His powerful body went into spasm as he squirted his semen deep into Buck's bowels. He clung onto Buck's body tightly until his orgasmic storm had passed. His head drooped onto Buck's shoulder. Rousing himself, he kissed Buck on the neck. Buck smiled happily up at him.
The next man to take Buck's arse was Stan. He went into raptures of delight as he fucked the willing Buck. Buck was in heaven. Stan roared into orgasm, triggering Buck's second orgasm.
Another stoker lined up to fuck Buck. He enjoyed Buck's arse to the full. He slowly thrust his penis its full length into Buck's muscular torso while he ran his horny hands over Buck's chest and abdomen. He was determined to make his fuck last as long as possible. Buck groaned with feverish delight. Once more he exploded into orgasm. White jets of semen shot from his penis and splattered onto the steel plate floor. That was enough to send the stoker stoking Buck into orgasm as well. He groaned as he shot his semen deep into Buck's torso.
Derek watched amazed as the other stokers lined up to fuck Buck. Their penises stuck out of their undershorts stiff and erect. Buck was willing to take them all up his arse.
The fact that Albert enjoyed sex with other men was something that Derek had not considered at all. What was he going to tell Piers and Tony? He could not hide it from them as they too were telepaths. What would the cousins tell their grandmother? Nothing, Derek hoped. The two cousins would want to know all the details.
How long had Albert been having sex with other men? Derek felt he had to find out. Sex with other men was a dangerous pastime back in the early twentieth century. It was illegal in most countries and there were stiff penalties like goal terms back then. However, it was obvious that Albert enjoyed sex greatly.
Derek continued watching.
The stokers had a lunch break. After lunch the sex continued. The men were clearly very fit to be able to have so much sex so frequently.
The next day was much the same. As the ship chugged across the ocean, the stokers whooped it up with Albert making him a very happy and well-fucked man.
The day after that was the day the 'Lochinvar' steamed into the cyclone and sank.
Derek considered booking himself on the 'Lochinvar' as a passenger but rejected the idea. It would have been difficult for him to make contact with one of the stokers hidden away down in the bowels of the ship. The contact would have certainly been remarked upon by the other passengers. The ship's officers may have proved difficult. It was highly likely that Albert may not have been allowed to talk with Derek.
He decided that the best way to find answers to his questions was to meet up with Albert while he was still in Durban. The 'Lochinvar' had arrived from Fremantle, the seaport of Perth in Western Australia and had spent nearly a week in Durban unloading and loading. Albert and his mates had four days free to spend in Durban doing what they liked.
He would have to win Albert's trust somehow. No man would have willingly admitted to sex with other men to a stranger. It was a crime. The penalties against sodomy were savage, particularly back in the early twentieth century. How was Albert to know that Derek was not a policeman or an informer? Derek was confident he would think of something. Maybe he could try and have sex with Albert himself.
Derek sped back through time to the arrival of the 'Lochinvar' in Durban. The ship had arrived late after struggling against unusually strong westerly headwinds on the voyage from Fremantle.
When the ship had docked, the stokers had to damp down the furnaces and clean out the boilers.
It was late in the evening and dark by the time the stokers had finished their tasks. Many of the stokers including Jack left the ship as soon as they were free. Albert, however, opted to stay the night on board in the cabin on his own.
Albert slept in the following morning. It was a luxury rarely allowed. He partook of a late and leisurely breakfast, gorging himself on a deliciously fiery hot Indian curry cooked up by Sanjay, one of the ship's cooks.
Afterwards, he packed his belongings into his well-used leather suitcase. Suddenly the hot Indian curry surged through his intestines. He regretted having overeaten. He made it to the lavatory just in time. His bowels emptied explosively. The curry went through him like an express train. It cleaned him out completely. His arsehole burned as if it were on fire.
Later, all cleaned up, he made his way down the gangway with his suitcase in his hand. He strolled unhurriedly across the dock and threaded his way through the railway goods wagons that stood on the lines crisscrossing the dock. The heat of the sub-tropical sun beat down upon him. It was late in the morning.
Derek was still in the realm in between. Like an invisible wraith he followed Albert in the baking sun.
Albert went into 'Sheila's Bar', a waterfront tavern often frequented by sailors. This morning it was almost empty.
He greeted the barmaid happily. Suzie was a big cheerful American woman with her blonde hair piled up in a big bun on top of her head. She responded in kind while she poured him a beer.
Albert leaned across the bar and said sotto voce, "Got any big strong men for me?"
She laughed. It was a standing joke between just the two of them.
She laughed even more when he told her about his experience with Sanjay's curry. He now had the cleanest arsehole in South Africa. And it was still hot and throbbing.
"You'd better watch out for Sanjay," said Suzie. "He's becoming quite famous around here. Someday someone's gonna make him an offer he can't refuse and then he'll be gone. To some ritzy hotel hereabouts, I guess."
"Oh well, I'd better enjoy him while I can," said Albert airily.
Suzie giggled.
In the shadow realm in between worlds, Derek saw this was the best time to make contact with Albert. He would come in sometime before Albert arrived and settle in at the bar. He had observed that Albert was strongly attracted to muscular men. Perhaps he could take Albert back to a hotel room and persuade him to have sex. Then it should not be difficult to get Albert to open up and tell him his past.
Derek withdrew from the bar and floated around Durban considering his plan of action. There were several large and luxurious hotels where he could stay. He would bestow plenty of money upon himself. It was, after all, only a stub time-line. Whatever he did here would not affect the world at large.
He would present himself as a young mining engineer, the younger son of a fabulously rich English mining magnate with interests in Australia, North and South America as well as in Europe. His story was that he had been staying up in Johannesburg scouting the fabulous gold mines of the Witwatersrand on behalf of his father. With his mission completed, he would catch a train to Durban and go by ship to Fremantle to inspect the rich gold mines owned by his father in Western Australia. It would be over a fortnight before the next ship sailed for Australia.
Derek looked around the main railway station of Durban. The steam- hauled express train from Johannesburg and Pietermaritzburg arrived the previous afternoon.
He slipped back to that time and dropped into existence amid the hustle and bustle on the railway platform. Passengers hurried off the steaming train to their various destinations. Derek had instantiated himself as a powerful young man with his current 135-kilogram (300- pound) body. He was dressed in a cream suit with a Panama hat. He had with him two large expensive-looking suitcases. He had reduced the length of his hair to be more in keeping with the times.
He was an island of calm amid the bustle on the platform. An elderly black African porter with grey hair came up to him and put Derek's cases on his trolley. They walked to the taxi stand in front of the station. Derek fumbled in his pocket and tipped the porter a shiny silver sixpenny coin. The old porter was overcome with gratitude. To him, it was a princely sum.
Derek remembered his grandfather Dr Reginald Pascoe telling him about the old money. Derek was a boy when he first pored over his grandfather's collection of coins from all over the former British Empire, Australia, Great Britain, New Zealand, India, Ceylon, Burma, South Africa, Tanganyika, Zanzibar, Rhodesia and Nyasaland, Kenya, Cyprus, Malta, Fiji, Malaya, Singapore, Canada, Belize, Newfoundland, British North Borneo, Sarawak, Fiji, Papua-New Guinea and so on. It was fascinating. He remembered being told by his grandfather that there were four farthings in one penny, twelve pence in one shilling and twenty shillings in one pound. Australia changed to decimal currency in 1966, nine years before Derek was born. The pound converted to two dollars and was worth much more than two dollars at the start of the twenty-first century.
Derek's taxi was a brand new Ford Model T painted bright yellow. The driver, a white English-speaking South African, proudly told him that he had it imported from the United States three months before. It was very reliable.
They arrived at the Belmont Hotel, a grand hotel in the centre of the city not far from the wharves. The driver carried one of the suitcases up the hotel steps to the foyer. They were too heavy for him to manage both. Derek gave the driver a shiny silver half-crown coin (two shillings and sixpence) and told him to keep the change.
"Thank you, kind sir," said the taxi-driver and strolled happily out into the street.
There was a lot of activity in the hotel foyer. Derek strolled up to the counter. A hotel porter picked up the cases and struggled along behind Derek, who took pity on him and carried one.
The concierge was rather a snooty man who was doing his best to impart the impression that this was a hotel of quality. His attitude was mollified somewhat when Derek asked for a suite with at least two bedrooms. The concierge was apologetic when he told Derek that the entire top floor was taken up by the Earl of Manderton and his entourage. He informed Derek that the earl was on his honeymoon.
The hotel was quite full. Many of the people were intending to travel on the 'Lochinvar' to Bombay.
However, there was still a nice two-room suite left on the floor below. It was rather expensive at three pounds fifteen shillings a night. Derek said he would take it.
The concierge wanted a deposit of ten shillings a night, so Derek casually handed him seven gold sovereigns. He was going to stay for fourteen days and then travel to Fremantle. The concierge's eyes widened.
"Certainly, Sir," he said obsequiously.
He whistled up another porter and they accompanied Derek up to his room with the suitcases. He tipped them threepence each and dismissed them.
The suite was luxurious. The main bedroom was on the corner of the building and had views to the south over Durban Harbour and to the west towards the distant peaks of the Drakensberg Range. The view over the harbour was interesting. He could see the 'Lochinvar' berthed at the passenger terminal. He could see Sheila's Bar not far from the terminal. Little steam tank engines puffed busily as they shunted strings of goods wagons to and fro along the railway lines covering the wharf area.
Across the harbour was the naval base. Tied up there at the wharf was a large grey warship, a battleship of the Royal Navy. Behind it was its accompanying destroyer. Derek used his telepathy and discovered the battleship was HMS King George V. It was a dreadnought that had seen action in the Battle of Jutland in 1916, the only full-scale naval action of World War I. It was now on a goodwill tour of the British dominions and colonies of the Indian Ocean and the Far East.
The sun was low in the west making it difficult to see out over the city to the distant mountain range.
Down below were the busy streets of Durban thronged by people. There were many vehicles, both horse-drawn and motor-driven.
Dinner was served from 7:30, still two hours away. There was a gym down on the second floor. Derek decided to check it out.
The lift was a wrought-iron cage driven by a bored elderly white man. Derek tipped him a halfpenny as he got out.
The gym was well equipped with weights and various sorts of machines. There was nobody else in there. Derek changed into a pair of shorts and gym-shoes. He did not bother with a shirt. He commenced his workout.
He tried out most of the machines and soon his mighty superhuman body was glistening with sweat. He switched on a small force field that made his body shinier and slicker than before. His body glistened as if covered in oil and sweat. His skin felt nice and slippery.
At this time he adjusted the size of his penis down from the heroic sixteen inches (40 cm.) it was to a less-daunting twelve inches (30 cm.). This was for Albert's benefit.
He stood in front of the plate glass mirror on a wall and admired the reflection of his magnificently muscular body. All his veins and sinews stood out like cables. He ran through a few poses delighting in showing off his muscles.
Derek was proud of his splendidly ripped and hard body with huge bulging powerful well-defined muscles. He was a man of god-like beauty. He had a handsome head with perfect and regular features. His thick dark brown hair had been reduced in length from the mop it was before. However, it still hung down over his large wide-set brown eyes. He had prominent cheekbones. His straight and finely made nose was placed over full, sensuous lips. He had a strong, square chin. His face was framed by sideburns down to the bottoms of his ears.
His neck was thick and muscular like that of a prize stallion. His broad powerful shoulders supported two well-veined and magnificently muscled arms with huge full-bellied biceps the size of footballs and great thick meaty triceps like horseshoe-shaped mountain ridges. His upper arms measured 24 inches (61 cm) in circumference flexed. His deltoids were the size of bowling balls and his thick powerful trapezius muscles formed a convex curve up to his neck just below his ears. His neck, shoulders and arms looked as though they had been built by years of dedicated weight lifting.
His huge deep wide 60-inch (152-cm) chest was truly massive. His enormous and powerfully bulging pectoral muscles were massively thick and well rounded. They were separated by a deep cleft in the centre of his chest. The pinkish brown nipples were bigger than a 50-cent coin and were at the lower edge of his pectorals. It was a powerful chest indeed. His latissmus dorsi muscles flared like the hood of a cobra, forming a perfectly symmetrical convex V-shape down to his slim and very muscular waist. His torso had a similar shape to the upper half of an hourglass. His waist was marked by a magnificently well chiselled eight-pack of abdominal muscles that looked like twin mountain ranges separated by a deep groove running down the centre of his abdomen. The waist was slim at 32 inches (81 cm) but it was packed with muscle. His mighty 31.5-inch (80-cm) thighs were packed with massive great big bulging muscles covered by a network of thick veins like rivers under the skin across the bulges. His broad powerful back was a mass of hard rippling muscle and his perfect buttocks were two hard round hemispheres of muscle.
Derek's mighty body was almost completely hairless. He had a fine trail of dark hair almost up to his belly button visible above his shorts. He had tufts of short silky dark hair in his armpits. His silky smooth skin was a golden tan in colour all over. He stood 186 centimetres (6'1") tall and weighed in at 135 kilograms (300 lb).
He became aware of someone else quietly entering the room. The other man watched in wordless appreciation while Derek continued posing and finished with a truly spectacular double biceps pose.
The man sauntered over to Derek. He was above average height with straight blond hair and pale blue eyes. He had a strong athletic build and looked to be aged in his early thirties. He was quite good- looking.
"Oh I say," he said. "Aren't you a magnificent specimen. Truly your body would make Hercules himself green with envy."
He had a supercilious, almost sneering air that Derek disliked. However, Derek remained civil.
"Thank you," said Derek turning towards him with a polite half smile.
His mighty arms hung loosely by his side. The muscles bulged hugely.
He saw into the man's mind and saw images of Derek's huge and magnificently muscled body being tortured on the rack, being beaten and whipped mercilessly until blood dripped from the many open wounds. The man would subject Derek to many other ingeniously vile tortures. He would insert sharp objects into Derek's utterly magnificent torso. He would relish Derek's screams of pain. Then finally the man would ravish Derek's anus, thrusting into it and enjoying Derek's screams. That splendid body would be very strong and last a long time. Finally when Derek's mighty body could take no more and his great heart stopped, his lifeless body would be cut up, put through the big industrial mincer. Then the remains would be fed to the prize pigs of the pig stud on the estate in England of his father, the Duke of Finsbury. Maybe not here in Durban though. He would leave the disposal of the body to his trusted chums.
Derek repressed a shudder. He comprehended that this man was the Earl of Manderton.
The man poked Derek lightly on the chest with his silver-topped walking cane.
"I say, you're solid muscle," he said.
"Don't poke me like that," said Derek irritably. He spoke with the accent of a man educated at one of the great English public schools and then at either Oxford or Cambridge. It was easy to fall into it after his upbringing and education.
"And why not?" asked the man haughtily.
"Because if you do, I shall break your swagger stick into pieces."
"Goodness me! Such insolence! This will never do! I won't be spoken to like that by some darkie!" He sounded outraged. His voice took on the angry bray of the English upper classes.
"What do you mean, darkie" growled Derek.
"You do have rather a dark complexion."
"I'll have you know that my ancestry is pure British. I am fortunate enough to have inherited good strong Saxon genes that allow me to stay out in the sun without getting sunburnt. Any more of that nonsense from you and I'll take your swagger stick and stick it up your arse."
"How dare you insult me like that! Do you know who I am?" demanded the man angrily.
"I have no idea and I care even less," rumbled Derek.
The man drew himself up to his full height.
"I am the Earl of Manderton," he announced.
"Really?" said Derek with a supercilious half smile.
Lord Manderton looked ridiculous. He was all puffed up.
"I'll not tolerate this insolence. Take that!"
With that, the earl slashed his cane at Derek's face.
In a flash Derek grabbed his wrist and ripped the cane effortlessly from his hand. He broke the walking cane into a number of pieces and tossed them on the floor in front of the earl.
"You bastard! That cost me two pounds at Harrod's in London. You'll pay for this," spluttered the earl.
He swung a punch at Derek's face. Derek caught him by the wrist. The other punch came and Derek caught the other wrist as well.
Lord Manderton glared at Derek while Derek held him firmly by both wrists. He was strong but no match for Derek's superhuman strength.
They stayed like that for a minute or two. The earl struggled and strained in Derek's vice-like grip but to no avail.
Derek saw into the earl's mind and saw all kinds of hideous tortures the earl was planning for Derek in revenge for his grossly insulting behaviour.
Lord Manderton had been indulging himself in the torture of strong young men for pleasure for years. He loved doing it. He loved hearing the screams of agony, the pleas for mercy. He loved ravishing their tormented arseholes. He loved watching them die.
The earl's mouth filled with spit as he formed the intention of spitting into Derek's face.
Derek tightened his grip on the earl's wrists until the earl yelped in pain. The spittle drooled down his chin from his open mouth.
The earl was furious.
"You bastard!" he snarled. "You think you're so smart. Just you wait! I'll make you pay for your transgressions. I'll make you suffer. Just you wait."
Derek held his eyes in a steady gaze. Brown eyes locked onto blue eyes.
The door opened and another man came in. He was surprised to see Lord Manderton locked in the tussle with Derek's huge shirtless form.
"G..goodness g..gwacious, Freddy," stammered the man. "What is g..g..going on?"
"Algy, get your gun and shoot him," commanded the earl. "This brute has bruised me."
Algernon fumbled in his coat pocket and pulled out a revolver. Shakily he pointed it towards Derek.
"Make sure you don't shoot me by mistake," shouted the earl.
With a heave, Derek pushed the earl over backwards. The earl fell flat on his back. He was stunned momentarily when his head hit the floor.
Derek charged Algernon who struck dumb with terror. Derek's expression was ferocious. In an instant he grabbed Algernon by the wrist. His grip tightened so that Algernon screamed with pain and the gun dropped out of his hand. Derek caught the revolver as it fell.
With his huge muscles bulging, he broke the gun into pieces. The bullet cylinder fell onto the floor. The barrel and handle were broken apart. Derek tossed the pieces onto the floor.
"M..my G..G..G..God the m..man is s..s..strong!" exclaimed Algernon. His eyes were wide with terror and wonder.
Muttering angrily, Lord Manderton scrambled to his feet rubbing his sore head. He glared at Derek.
Derek said to him conversationally, "If you try anything like that with me again, I shall give you a smack over the side of your head."
The earl and his chum walked out of the gym with all the dignity they could muster.
Derek telepathically listened in to them as they walked down the hall to the lift.
The earl was telling Algernon to organise the other men in the earl's entourage. They were to kidnap Derek and prepare him for the earl's pleasure. Derek was to receive all sorts of vile tortures. They all would have lots of fun.
Bugger this for a laugh, Derek thought to himself and jumped out of the timeline. That universe stopped.
In the realm in between, Derek scouted around and investigated the Ozone Plaza Hotel. It was a recently built grand luxury hotel situated on the beachfront of the Indian Ocean north of the port area and east of the city. It was supplied with all modern conveniences like electricity, telephones and hot and cold running water.
The hotel had plenty of vacant suites. The top floor was empty. One suite, the grand suite, had three large bedrooms and had views to the south, west over the city towards the Drakensberg Range and east out over the Indian Ocean. That will do nicely, he decided. He wanted to be well away from the Earl of Manderton who could prove a real nuisance.
The earl was one sick puppy, Derek thought to himself. He met a fitting end when the 'Lochinvar' went down. It was a shame that 825 other people had to die with him. Derek found that difficult to understand.
God replied that it was chance and free will. Derek had to understand that. Bad things happened. The world contained hazards. If the world had been a happy safe little place, the human race would never have evolved. Furthermore, if the ship's captain had read the signs of the impending cyclone and had adjusted his course, disaster would have been averted. But he did not and his ship went down.
Derek prepared to jump back into 1922. He created a moustache for himself. It made him look sexier and it was in keeping with the fashion of the time. He also lightened his skin colour so that he looked less sun-tanned. He did not want to attract more adverse comment. He realised that back in the 1920s many English people were very snobbish.
He kept on the small force field that made his skin shiny and slippery. It glistened.
He went back to the solid redbrick edifice of the Durban railway station to the time when the express from Johannesburg and Pietermaritzburg arrived in Durban. Again he appeared as a well dressed powerfully built young man clad in a cream coloured suit and a panama hat. He had with him two large expensive-looking leather suitcases. He was an island of calm in the sea of bustling passengers on the railway station.
Again the elderly black porter came up and put Derek's cases on his trolley. This time Derek stopped at a public phone box on the railway station concourse and rang the Ozone Plaza Hotel. He booked the grand suite on the hotel's top floor for a fortnight at three pounds a night. He gave his name as Derek Moreing.
The porter took Derek to the taxi stand. Again Derek tipped the porter sixpence and again the old man was overcome with gratitude for receiving such a princely sum.
This time he had a different taxi-driver who also drove a Model-T Ford. This man spoke with an Afrikaner accent.
The taxi-driver took him through the busy streets of the city of Durban straight to the Ozone Plaza Hotel. There he unloaded Derek's suitcases. Straight away two black bellboys appeared and took Derek's cases up the stairs to the hotel foyer. Derek gave the taxi-driver three shillings and told him to keep the change. The driver was very grateful. He gave Derek a little bow. Beaming, he climbed into his taxi and the Model-T chugged away. Derek followed the bellboys up the steps into the hotel.
The concierge was an obsequious little white man. When Derek gave his name and told him that he had booked the grand suite for the fortnight, the concierge become even more deferential.
The formalities completed, the bellboys accompanied Derek up to the grand suite on the top floor. Derek unlocked the door and the bellboys placed the suitcases in the master bedroom. Derek thanked them and tipped them threepence each. They thanked him very politely and departed with a smile.
The master bedroom was a fine, very large and airy room with high ceilings. It had views on three sides, east over the Indian Ocean, southeast over the harbour entrance, south and southwest over the harbour itself and west over the city towards the Drakensberg Range and the setting sun. The french windows opened onto balconies on all three sides. The bedroom contained a luxurious large double bed, a dressing table and a number of comfortable armchairs. This will do nicely, thought Derek to himself. He took off his coat and laid it on the bed.
Derek explored the suite. On either side of the master bedroom were the two other bedrooms. They were both smaller. The smallest had one set of french windows and one balcony. It faced south and contained two single beds. It looked as though it would be used for children.
The other bedroom was bigger and was in the corner of the building. That contained a fine large double bed. It had windows and balconies facing south and west. The master bedroom jutted out from the other two bedrooms.
Each of the three bedrooms had its own en-suite bathroom.
On the other side of the smallest bedroom from the master bedroom was the study. The wood-panelled room was equipped with a desk, chairs and a bookcase. That had two balconies accessible through french windows and looked out to the east and south. In the study was also a small dining table with two chairs.
The immense living room ran the width of the building with views to both the east and west. It was luxuriously appointed in the style of the British Raj. The windows were adorned with curtains of a deep rich red velvet. There were leather-upholstered armchairs, cane end tables and all manner of other oddments. On the floor were the skins of lions, tigers, zebras and various other animals.
Off the living room was the richly appointed dining room. The mahogany dining table and chairs could seat ten people. Two silver three-branched candlesticks adorned the table. The curtains were of the same red velvet as the ones in the living room.
Next to the dining room was the drawing room, also richly decorated in a similar style. There was even a baby grand piano.
Also off the living room were the guest bathroom, a small kitchen and the vestibule that led to the main door into the hotel corridor.
Derek ambled back to the study and went out onto the balcony. He looked out over the Indian Ocean. The waves glinted in the afternoon sun as they crashed onto the wide white sandy beach. Derek could see only few people strolling along the foreshore. No one was in the water swimming despite the warm weather.
---------------------------------- Continued in Part 49. ----------------------------------