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 - 11 t/t
Tom was pleased to see wind filling the sails once again. The ship had started to move late in the night, and by morning the Tortuga was once again plunging through the waves. Tom saw the fins of a few sharks off to larboard but otherwise the sea was empty.
"Quite a show you helped put on last night," Tom smiled as he and Tug tended to some lines.
"I'm guessing you aren't sorry we wasn't betting on you?" Tug laughed.
"Right about that, I like doing my tugging in private," Tom snickered as he helped pull a line tight. "You have any idea how long before we catch up to the Soledad and the prize ships?"
"No way of telling."
Tom once again looked up at the wind filled sails. "I hope it won't be long."
The initial excitement of being underway faded as day after day went by and there was no sighting of the other ships. Anxiety set in and tempers grew short.
"You need to watch out for Tawse," Tom said before filling his lungs with smoke and handing his pipe over to Chandler.
Quan had given Tom a bit of his magic dust to sprinkle in with the tobacco. He exhaled slowly, enjoying the sensations that he was getting. His head felt light and fun colors were appearing.
Chandler took his own puff and giggled, "I'm always in the galley."
"Yeah, but like I said, watch out for him."
The boys were sitting with their backs to a bulkhead, their legs stretched out in front of them. When the tobacco was gone, Tom stood up, fumbled with his britches and let them drop to his ankles. He slowly worked his cock as Chandler looked on.
"What do you think you're going to do with that?" Chandler chuckled.
Tom stepped closer, "I think it'll be easier if you're on your knees," he giggled.
"Is that thing always hard?"
"I think it's the waiting. When I get nervous, I get like this," Tom grinned and wagged the head of his dick up and down.
Chandler got up on his knees, undid his britches and reached inside. He pulled out his own cock and stroked it hard. "Sucking you off always makes me horny."
Tom moved his cock closer to Chandler's mouth, "Ready for it?"
Chandler smiled, opened up, and stuck out his tongue.
Tom laid the soft knob of his dick on the end and eased forward. "I think I'll squirt it in your mouth the first time, and then the second time I'll put it up your bum," he whispered. "I haven't had a go in a while."
Chandler made a noise. It might have been a groan, but with his mouth full, Tom couldn't tell.
It was two days later, after the meal eaten at the end of the forenoon watch, that Tom saw Chandler with a container of food scraps. He was headed for the stern, no doubt to toss it overboard. Before he got there some spilled, he lost his footing, and fell. Tom watched as the garbage flew toward one side.
"Fucking Hell!" Tawse bellowed as he tried to brush food scraps off himself. Most of what Chandler had been carrying had gone straight into his face.
Chandler was on his back on the deck and looking up when Tawse grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him to his feet.
"Clumsy oaf!" Tawse hollered, his face red with anger.
"It was an accident," Chandler whimpered as Tawse gave him a shake.
"I'll show you an accident," Tawse yelled and swung his rope.
Tom saw that Chandler had managed to turn, so most of the blow landed on his back.
"Leave him alone!" Tom screamed, and headed toward the pair.
But before Tom could reach him, Tawse wrapped his arms around Chandler and picked the boy up kicking and screaming.
"Him too!" Tawse yelled at another sailor as Tom approached, and he was grabbed from behind and hauled off his feet. "Time for both of you to kiss the gunner's daughter!" Tawse said, and headed below.
Tom struggled but was no match for the man that was dragging him. A few minutes later they were on the gun deck. He watched as Chandler was bent over a cannon and his arms and legs made secure. Seconds after that, his britches were pulled down.
A crowd of men and boys had gathered. Some smiled as if what was about to happen was great fun, but most saw the look in Tawse' eyes and knew this was going to be another example of the man's cruelty.
Even the little pris Stevens was there.
Tom tried to give Chandler a reassuring look as Steven's stepped up and with a grin pushed a leather bit into Chandler's mouth. That was so he wouldn't bite his tongue when the whipping got started.
Tawse had exchanged his usual rope end for the boy's "cat" or small whip. It was much less dangerous than the one used on the men, but it was still something no one wanted used on them.
Tom struggled again, hoping to escape the grip of the man holding him. Tawse turned and gave Tom a hard smack with the back of his hand splitting the boy's lip. "You'll get yours soon enough, now settle down!" Tawse hissed.
Tears came to Tom's eyes as Tawse pulled his arm back and swung the whip. The three leather strands made a loud snapping sound as they landed on Chandler's ass. Seconds later three pink lines appeared across the boy's soft white cheeks. "Leave him alone!" Tom screamed, as tears of rage continued to pour down his face. But, time and time again, the whip landed on target. Welts soon appeared and Chandler's lower back and ass went from white to bright red. At first Chandler had struggled, but then apparently had given up. He now lay still as Tawse dealt out the punishment.
Stevens smiled when he took the leather out of Chandler's mouth. "Now who's laughing?" he taunted as Chandler's arms and legs were untied.
Tom looked over and saw Tawse' face as he was wrestled into position and put face down just as Chandler had been. "Not going to give him the satisfaction," he thought as several men bound him into place. "I won't make a sound."
Stevens appeared with the leather just as Tom's britches were pulled down.
"I'll get you for this," Tom promised just before Stevens pushed the bit into his mouth.
There was a hissing sound as the straps swished through the air, then the first blow landed. For an instant, Tom thought Tawse had missed because there wasn't any pain. But a blink later, his brain registered what had just happened to his ass. He wanted to scream, but he kept control of himself even though the pain was excruciating. The second bite was even worse than the first. Tom couldn't stop the tears, but he didn't utter a sound. At first, the tears came mostly from the unfairness of it all, but it wasn't long before they were because of the pain. As the pain grew, it became mixed with anger.
Tom had lost count, but he thought perhaps fifteen licks had been applied before it came to an end. As a final insult, a bucket of sea water was splashed over his ass. The cool water seemed soothing, but a heart beat later the salt found broken skin and burned.
After his arms and legs were released, Tom slowly rose and gave Tawse a penetrating stare. He then glanced at Chandler.
"Back to work!" Tawse bellowed at the crowd.
Tom bent and slowly pulled up his britches. He was careful to ease them over his fiery ass.
"Are you all right?" he choked as Chandler stepped over and gave him a hug.
"I didn't mean for you to get it," Chandler softly sobbed into his ear.
"It wasn't your fault," Tom reassured him.
Chandler stepped back. No words were said, but both could see in the other's eyes the unspoken message, "I love you."
Tom spent the rest of the day deep in thought. He knew he had to set things right. Being in the rigging was difficult. The welts on his ass rubbed against his britches as he climbed. More than once he winced in pain when the rough cloth rubbed a particularly painful spot.
Tom was very glad to see his watch come to an end.
"How's your ass?" Tug asked softly as he and Tom sat next to one another for the evening meal.
"He made a right good job of it," Tom squirmed uncomfortably, "Won't be sitting easy for a couple of days at least."
"Time we should do for that bastard," Tug grunted as he chewed on some tough meat.
"We know he means to take over," Tom whispered, "I say now's the time to tell the Captain."
"There's more that's with him. We don't know who's in and who's out. We can't chance that the next one in line won't just take his place," Tug whispered.
"What if we do Tawse, and warn the others that they'll get the same?" Tom offered.
Tug thought a moment, "Aye," he agreed, "that might just work."
Tom, Chandler, and Tug found a spot in the sail locker where they could talk without interruption.
"Who else can we trust?" Tom asked.
"Thatcher, for one," Chandler quickly replied.
"George," Tug tossed in. He and George had been good friends for years and often took shore leave together.
"I think Quan and Luke will join us," Tom whispered.
"That's enough I reckon," Tug said, apparently thinking it all through.
"We need to get Stevens away from the Captain so he sees what's in store for those that plan mutiny."
"Captain likes Quan, so that will be his job, to get Stevens away."
The three talked it all through and when they were settled on a plan they shook hands.
"If this goes wrong, we'll all hang," Tug said with a determined look.
"It won't go wrong," Tom said firmly.
Chandler watched as Quan changed into his silks and got ready. "Are you sure the Captain will go for this?" he asked.
"Captain likes a little variety," Quan said with his customary wide grin, "it's been awhile since I last visited." When he finished dressing he reached over to a small pouch hidden under his other clothes. He took out a palm size amount of powder. "This herb will help you with Tawse," Quan whispered, and put the stuff into Chandler's hand. "Toss it in his face and it will give you an advantage."
"What's it do?"
Quan smiled, "You'll see," he chuckled.
When all was ready, Quan headed for the Captain's cabin.
Chandler waited, and perhaps ten minutes later Stevens made his way down the ladder to the crew deck. "Not with the Captain tonight?" Chandler laughed.
"Quan knocked on the Captain's door and told him he had a special dance for him," Stevens grumped.
"And you weren't invited to stay?" Chandler grinned.
"Bugger off," Stevens said as he started to push past.
Chandler threw his arms around Stevens and held him tight as Thatcher and Luke ran over to help. Stevens yelled, but one of the first things that Thatcher did was stuff a rag into the boy's mouth. Then came the rope around his ankles and another to bind his wrists. Stevens was soon trussed up and ready for delivery.
Luke picked up the squiggly boy and tossed him over his shoulder. "One down," he muttered as they headed topside.
Tawse was minding his evening watch. Tom, hidden in a shadow, looked on as George, Tug's friend, came up to him and started talking. As Tawse turned to reply, George tossed Quan's herb dust into his face. The dust apparently irritated and burned, because Tawse doubled over with a yell.
Tom saw Tug jump Tawse from behind and grab him in a bear hug. Seconds after that, George gave him a hard punch to the jaw. Tawse staggered but stayed on his feet. George landed another punch and Tawse was out cold.
"Tie him up," Tug said hurriedly and glanced at the other men standing watch. "He's plotted against the Captain." Tug nodded toward Tawse. "Now's the time to choose, him or the Captain?"
Tom watched as the small group of men on deck looked at one another and seemed to make their choice. Almost as one, they took a step back, making clear they weren't going to interfere.
Moments later Luke came on deck carrying Stevens over his shoulder. He was followed by Chandler and Thatcher.
Tom, who had been keeping a look-out for trouble, came out of hiding and joined them. Tawse slowly came to and opened his eyes. With hands tied behind his back, his legs bound together, and a cloth stuffed in his mouth, he looked exactly like Stevens.
"Time to settle accounts," Tom said quietly. "We stand for the Captain," he glanced at Tug and the others.
Tawse struggled and made some noises, but had no chance of getting loose. Tug dragged Tawse toward the rail and hoisted him over. He was now sitting on the edge, looking at the sea.
"Saw some sharks earlier," Tom said in a matter of fact tone.
"He'll probably drown before they get him," Tug shrugged.
"Either way is fine," Tom offered.
Stevens stood inches away, his eyes wide and his thin body shaking.
"The little one will go in one bite," George laughed.
Tug looked back toward Tom. They stared at each other for a brief moment and then Tom nodded. Tug gave a push, and Tawse went over the side.
Steven's made a screaming sound, but with the gag in his mouth, nothing much was heard. There was a splash as Tawse hit the water, and Stevens screamed again. Then there was silence.
The lot looked at one another and then Tom grabbed Stevens. "You're next."
Steven's violently shook his head "no' as water trickled down to the deck from between his legs.
"He's pissed himself," Tug chuckled.
Tom and Tug pulled the boy toward the rail. They bent him over it and then lifted his legs up so the boy was suspended head down, facing the sea.
"Like what you see?" Tom said with a menacing voice. "You have a choice. Help us and you won't go for a swim tonight, stay loyal to Tawse and you'll join him."
Stevens struggled and made wild pleading type noises.
Tom winked at Tug and they pulled the boy back up.
Tom pulled the gag out from Stevens' mouth, "So, you're with us then?"
"I'll do whatever you want," the still shaking boy whimpered, tears pouring down his face.
"Do you know the others that Tawse recruited?"
Stevens nodded.
"You tell each of them what you saw tonight. Tell them the rest of the crew is with us, not them. Then tell them if they don't join in, we'll see to it that they take a swim some night when they're fast asleep."
Stevens nodded.
"Since your friend Tawse laid the whip to the Cook's Boy, he won't be much help in the galley. So, until he's back to normal, you'll do his duties as well as your own."
Stevens nodded again.
Thatcher smiled, "best sit on the peg a spell, then come see me. I'll have some work for you."
Stevens made a face as the other's laughed.
The deal settled upon, Tom signaled Chandler, who got busy untying the boy.
"Gawwd, something smells," Chandler wrinkled up his nose. "Did you shit yourself?
Tears returned to Stevens' eyes and he sobbed.
"Get off with ya," Tug gave the boy a shove.
Stevens stepped back, looked at everyone, and scurried away.
"Think he'll tell the Captain?" Chandler asked.
"Doubt it," Tom said quietly as they walked back toward the ladder that led down below. "What's he going to say? That he was part of a mutiny?"
Chandler smiled. "Thanks for getting me off galley duty for a few days."
Tom smiled, "you deserve a break."
Chandler giggled, "that Stevens," he shook his head. "I liked when he pissed himself."
It was near the end of the forenoon watch when the Captain noticed Tawse had not reported to his post. Tom was on deck when the Captain called out.
"Where's Tawse?" the Captain's raised voice wasn't directed to anyone in particular.
A number of looks went back and forth between the men at their stations.
"Been a change, Captain," Tug said gently. "I'll be assuming his duties, if you don't mind."
The Captain turned to look.
"Tawse fell overboard last evening," Tug said with a hint of a smile, "terrible tragedy," he held back a laugh.
The Captain took a hard look at Tug and knew there was much more to the story. But he was wise enough not to ask.
"You'll find a loyal crew ready for your command," Tug said with a nod.
The Captain looked at the other men and seemed about to speak when the look-out's voice was heard.
"Sail Ho!"
All turned to see the tiniest possible shade of white on the horizon.
"Get the men to their stations," the Captain told Tug.
Tug acknowledged the order, and all questions about Tawse were forgotten.
The Soledad came just close enough to raise a signal flag, and then turned about taking the lead. The news of her sighting spread through the ship.
"They found the prize ships then?" Chandler asked as Quan hurried past, headed for the gun deck.
The boy nodded and continued to run.
Chandler made for the galley.
"What can I do?" Chandler asked eagerly. Thatcher was busy doing what he always did, cook.
"The men still need to eat."
Chandler suddenly realized each had a job to do. Stevens was cutting potatoes. Chandler took a place near him and the boys exchanged looks.
"I'm Cook's Boy, Chandler said proudly as he reached for the knife in Stevens' hand. "Go to your station," Chandler nodded.
"But..." Stevens said.
"Are you loyal to the Captain?" Chandler asked sternly.
Stevens nodded his head, `Yes'.
"Then do your duty, we've got a fight coming!"
Stevens stood. "You can trust me, I promise."
"You still owe me a fucking," Thatcher said slamming the cleaver down on a piece of meat. He hadn't looked up from his work.
"Again?" Stevens whined.
Thatcher looked up.
"All right, I won't forget. Can I go now?"
Thatcher nodded, "get out of here!" he smiled.
Stevens ran for the ladder.
"When he squeals he reminds me of my girl," Thatcher chuckled, "and I love the way he wiggles."
The image of Stevens squirming on the end of Thatcher's cock made Chandler laugh as well.
Thatcher kept it up with line after line of what he had done to the little pris.
"Stop, or I'll piss myself," Chandler was laughing so hard he could barely control himself.
"Oh no, not you too!" Thatcher rolled his eyes and chuckled.
The fight finally came two days later. The Soledad managed to sail ahead of the slower moving prize ships and turn them to a course that favored the Tortuga. The surprise was that the prize ships had picked up a warship escort.
Tom and Chandler were watching the situation unfold from a side rail.
"Are we in for it?" Chandler gave Tom a worried look.
"Won't be the easy take that we expected," Tom said with a frown.
Moments later the Captain called for all hands to assemble.
"We've planned for this," the Captain began, "so don't be worried. The Soledad will take on the lead warship and we'll take on the one aft. Gunners to your posts, all hands stand by for sharp maneuvers."
The Captain paused as the crew stared. "We take these two and we're rich men!"
The crew cheered.
"Now let's get to it!"
Chandler found himself assigned to a gun crew, he had been made a powder monkey. Shot was piled near the cannon, but powder was stored away from the gun deck so it wouldn't accidentally be touched off.
"You be ready to bring more powder up," Lang, the blond boy who had been in the show some days before instructed Chandler.
Chandler nodded, a knot forming in his stomach.
The guns were made ready and all stood by awaiting the Captain's orders.
Tom was ordered aloft and stuffed two pistols into his belt before he made the climb. "Only two shots," he thought. "But I can still help!"
The two warships formed up and headed straight for the Tortuga. Tom watched as the battle unfolded. The Soledad used her speed to advantage and made an end around, which allowed her guns to bear on the less protected aft section of the lead warship. It was the Soledad's guns that were the first to fire.
Tom saw smoke appear and then heard the sound of the cannon. The warship that had been fired upon started a turn as the Soledad did the same. Both ships tacked and maneuvered to try and gain the advantage.
The Tortuga on the other hand sailed straight at the second warship.
Tom saw both were preparing for a broadside. "A fist fight," he thought as both drew near.
"Fire when they bear," the Captain yelled, and the order was passed below decks.
The ships made their slow advance and then both turned at the last moment exposing their guns. Cannon roared, smoke filled the air, and the deafening sounds of battle began.
Tom had a bird's eye view. The Soledad, in its swan like dance of turns was slowly opening the distance and gaining the advantage. Once again it managed to arrange a stern shot and fired all its guns. Tom watched as the mainmast on the warship splintered near the top and other shot landed across the stern.
The Tortuga shuddered as a dozen shots pounded against her sides and shot tore through her sails. Several men fell from their posts aloft and landed with a sickening thud on the deck below.
The first volley of cannon fire was beyond description. The ship rolled as all her cannon fired at nearly the same time. Chandler's ears were ringing as he hurried to the magazine to get another load.
Quan scurried up the ladder as Chandler slid down the side. He got a bag and ran to where Lang and the crew were readying the next shot. The gunner fired just as Chandler arrived and quickly the process started over again.
Seconds later there was a deafening explosion. All turned to look at one of the guns at the far end. A large hole had appeared in the side of the ship, and, as the smoke cleared, Chandler could see the gun crew sprawled across the deck.
"Get word to the Captain!" a man yelled. Quan didn't hesitate, but ran as fast as lightning to tell the Captain that a gun was out of action.
Tom watched as the Soledad made yet another pass at the first warship and this time managed to do severe damage. "Tore her rudder off," he thought as the smoke cleared and the warship lost all control.
The Tortuga was coming around, and Tom prepared for another exchange of cannon fire.
"You," a sailor called from below, "to the gun deck!"
Tom understood, and hurried down.
When he arrived, Tom saw devastation. Two guns were out of action. The dead and wounded had been pushed aside as others carried on the fight. Looking around Tom desperately sought Chandler. Still worried, Tom joined a crew of three that was taking the place of several wounded men.
"Tom!" Chandler yelled.
Tom looked up and the boys exchanged brief glances with each other and then hurried to their work.
It seemed like hours went by, though in truth it was only minutes. The guns roared, and commands were shouted. The men were growing tired.
Tom was helping load for the fourth or fifth time when an explosion knocked him off his feet. His head slammed into the deck.
Everything started to grow dim. "So, this is how I'm going to die," he thought just before the darkness overtook him.
Chandler hurried up the steps from the magazine and looked to where Tom had been working. Instead of seeing his friend, he saw the cannon overturned, and bodies scattered about.
Chandler screamed, and hurried toward the scene, but a strong arm grabbed him. "We need powder!" Luke yelled.
Chandler, stunned, knew he still had a job to do. As if in a trance, he made the trip up and down several more times until finally the order came down to cease fire.
With tears streaming down his face, Chandler slowly walked toward the still form on the deck. "Tom?" he sobbed. Chandler knelt down and took Tom into his arms, hugging him close.
Chandler looked into Tom's face and saw soot and grime from the battle. He tried to wipe it with his hand but it wouldn't come off. He looked around and saw Lang sprawled over a gun, drops of blood trickling from the side of his mouth.
Chandler rocked Tom in his arms, the tears flowing.
Some time passed and Thatcher appeared. He knelt down, pulled Chandler's arms back and placed his ear to Tom's chest.
"He's still alive," Thatcher said in a low voice and roughly pulled Chandler away.
"Alive?" Chandler whispered, disbelief in his voice.
A full day later Tom still hadn't awakened. Chandler found out that one of the last volleys from the Tortuga had struck near the warship's powder and the explosion had taken her out of the fight. The Soledad had set off after the fleeing prize ships.
The Tortuga had nineteen dead and twenty four wounded. Lang had died heroically, continuing to fire his cannon with only half the usual number of men. The lad's actions hadn't gone unnoticed. He was being praised by men and boys alike.
Tom had been run through with a splinter of wood, but Thatcher said it would heal. The blow to the head was what worried them.
During his off duty hours Chandler kept up a one-sided non-stop conversation with Tom in hopes it would help his friend awaken.
Late the next night Tom stirred. "Will you shut up?" he moaned softly. "I've got a headache."
"Tom!" Chandler screamed in happiness and scooped him into his arms.
"I said, be quiet!" Tom moaned again, a look of pain on his face.
Chandler stroked Tom's hair. "Sorry," he whispered.
"What happened?" Tom finally asked as he tried to move.
"You took a crack to the head," Chandler answered softly.
"Did we win?"
"Handled the warships and the Soledad is heading for the prize ships." Chandler smiled.
Tom slowly opened his eyes. "My side hurts," he grunted.
"Thatcher says it'll heal," Chandler offered, "a splinter went right through."
"Did you get hurt?"
Chandler laughed softly. "Just got knocked on my ass," he smiled.
"And a cute ass at that," Tom chuckled, but winced and reached for his side.
Chandler leaned down and hugged Tom close. "When you're better I'll let you take another look at it," he smiled, and kissed him on the forehead. "Now rest. I'll go get you something to eat."
Thanks to Andrew and to Jon B. for their help with this chapter. Write me at Playbuddy123@yahoo.com. Thanks, Jon