tagRomanceThe Cabin Boy

The Cabin Boy


Foam blew across the forepeak like scudding clouds as the British 74 gun man-o-war raced down the side of a wave. Not quite at storm level, still the wind was blowing swells of ten feet and more, and the mighty warship climbed up one side and flew down the other.

The crew that had been up on the Flemish Horses far above the deck taking in sail were now below. Only the most experienced hands could tolerate this kind of tossing without seasickness, so in addition to the smells of 500 bodies crammed shoulder to shoulder for over a year, and the rotten stench of the bilge, there was the fresh odor of vomit.

No one was particularly unhappy, however, as they were used to the conditions, and in sight of England, after more than 14 months at sea. They were returning with some fair amount of prize money as well, so those without families to take their earnings would be drinking and whoring by this time tomorrow.

Among the crew was one with a special reason to be upbeat. He was the cabin boy, who had served Vice Admiral Sir Clifford Thompson this entire trip. His only thought was escape. To that end he had stolen a few short barrel staves and tied them around his body. He snuck on deck, and when the ship hit the valley between two waves, and paused her forward motion as though grabbed by a monster of the deep, he leapt from the side.

He knew no one would see him go, and counted on the heavy weather to ensure no rescue attempt if he should be seen. He would rather take his chances swimming to shore than the possibility of another voyage.

...- --- - . / ..-. --- .-. / ... .. .-.. -.- -.—

The wind that blew the ship offshore had brought only a smattering of rain to London. There, near the docks, a small boy who appeared younger than his eighteen years was waiting for any ship that was outward bound. Starving, so hungry he could barely pull the rags around him, he knew that no danger of the sea could be worse than the dangers he faced on land. His name was Johnny Silk, and he was 5' tall, about 7 stone, and as scrawny as a girl. He had a tousle of bright red hair, and a face that was devoid of even the first whiskers of manhood.

...- --- - . / ..-. --- .-. / ... .. .-.. -.- -.—

As these things do sometimes, the HMS Dangerous, a giant of a ship captained by none other than Vice Admiral Thompson himself tied up before night, and loosed a flood of men eager to get on shore and dispense with their loads of gold, thirst, and semen.

As soon as the ship was settled, running on a minimum guard, but always guarded as one of the most powerful battle ships in the world, Johnny skittered up the gang-plank.

"Halt, who goes there?" came immediately from one of the Maries on duty.

"Tis I, Johnny Silk, applying for a position as a Seaman, sir."

"Seaman, is it? Rated, you are?" The marine snorted in contempt. "If you're a day over 14 I'll fuck a pig."

"Can a young lad not find work on a ship such as this, then? I'll prove my worth."

"The Bo 'sun will make that decision, boy, and he'll be drunk until tomorrow, certainly."

"Then is there any way I might get a crust of bread to hold me until then?" Johnny was shivering, and his teeth chattered with the cold.

The old Marine, who had seen hundreds like him come on board for a life at sea only to be cut in half by a cannon ball, or die of scurvy, took pity. "Surely we can find a bit of biscuit that's still edible, and perhaps some scrap of cheese."

So Johnny was not quite as desperate when the bleary-eyed Bo 'sun's Mate looked him over.

"Most volunteers come to us when we're leaving, not as we get to shore. Why are you in such a hurry?" He knew full well than many escaped prisoners and various low lifers tried to escape by joining the King's Navy; the Navy couldn't run without them.

"I have my reasons," was all Johnny said. Fair enough.

"Welcome to the Navy. You'll have a few days to help us get ship-shape before we're off again. I suspect with your size and lack of skill you'll only be the cabin boy."

"I'll take it and gladly."

"Then get below and they'll show you where to swing your hammock."

Johnny had good reason to be here when and where he was. He was escaping an intolerable life that was to be his if he should stay; Johnny wasn't a boy at all. 'He' was Silky St. Johns, a young woman who had been promised in marriage to the Barron of High Moor, an enormously obese and slimy eyed man who had licked his lips and developed an odd tightness of his pantaloons when he met his prospective bride.

To be trapped with that man, unable to leave, raped every night --for it would always be rape with him -- and then to bear children to him, and have no life outside his Manse. She would rather die, and certainly would take her chances at sea.

She knew the risks, of course. Ships believed women had only one purpose on board; one she had no desire to provide. At sea, they were considered bad luck, and more than one woman had 'accidently' fallen overboard and never returned. She had a bolt of cloth wrapped tightly around her shapely breasts to press them flat; it was quite a job, as they were not small. She had cut off her long hair without a tear. All it did was trap her.

...- --- - . / ..-. --- .-. / ... .. .-.. -.- -.--

Vice Admiral Thompson welcomed his new cabin boy with professionalism and pleasantries. He was about forty, browned from his years at sea, and with long black hair just going gray at temples. He had a glowing smile.

'I think you'll do very well as my cabin boy, Johnny. You'll sleep in my cabin, and eat from my table, though not with me, of course. I dare say you'll fatten up a tad with my victuals."

"Yessir, I'm looking forward to it Mr. Vice-Admiral Sir.." Johnny saluted.

"Just call me 'Captain' when at sea, son, that's all you need."

...- --- - . / ..-. --- .-. / ... .. .-.. -.- -.—

As soon as orders were received, food and water brought aboard, and the many barrels of gunpowder and cannon balls were lowered through the hatches, the Blue Peter was hoisted aloft. This flag signaled to the crew to return to ship. Since they were in London, there were always deserters, and the Press Gangs swept the streets regularly grabbing any poor soul who was foolish enough to be about when the King needed sailors.

Johnny watched in amazement as shopkeepers and farmers were told they would now be sailors, and wouldn't see home again for a year or two, if they survived. Still, there were no small numbers of volunteers as well. The Navy ate regularly and paid decent wages, with a chance of wealth if the ship caught prizes.

Finally, finally, they weighted anchor and made their way through the roads and out to sea. They were still close enough that a small fast sloop could catch them, and sometimes urgent messages or last minute passengers came this way. Having a woman on board didn't seem to be causing bad luck, however, Silky thought to herself, as the weather was fine, the wind blew in the right direction, and no changes came. They were free!

The first night the Captain invited all the officers to dinner. The Cabin Boy served as a personal waiter to the Vice-Admiral, and assisted the Coxswain in clearing the plates and bringing the platters of food. More food than starving Johnny had seen in weeks and weeks. And when the meal was over, and all the men had Toasted the King, sitting down in the Navy tradition, Johnny was allowed to feast on the left-overs. He was personally as glad of his decisions as he had ever been.

Once everything was put away, Mr. Thompson threw a fatherly arm around young Johnny. "I think you'll do well, lad."

And then an extraordinary thing happened. The officer unbuttoned his fly and pulled out an erect penis!

"I think I need a little release, my boy. Would you rather suck or bend over?"

Silky had no idea what to say or do. She had never seen an actual man's organ before, and really wanted to stare, but didn't know enough of the mechanics of men to even understand what he as asking of her. She was pretty sure it involved contact with that engorged and hypnotizing thick piece of magic, ending in a huge purple plum that was so taut it was shinning.

"Sir, beg pardon, but I really... uh... don't know how to do these things."

"You've never had a taste of cock before? Oh this is priceless! Not only do I get the prettiest cabin boy in the King's navy, but I get a virgin as well! Fortune is upon me!"

"Yes sir, but what do I DO?"

"Let's start with the basics. Kneel down here, lad, yes, just like that. Now I'm going to put my pig-sticker in your mouth, and pretend you're a sweet cunt. I'll fuck you a little, then I'll shoot my load, and you be a good boy and swallow it down."

Silky was terrified. She got the 'put it in your mouth' (blahh!) but she'd never heard the words 'cunt' or 'fuck' before coming on the ship; she heard them constantly now, but still had no idea of their meaning.

She'd even tried a few times to imitate the other men, and had said one of the farmers was a "real big fuck for a sailor," which had gotten guffaws from the crew.

What did he mean, 'Shoot his load?' She felt at sea in more ways than one. Apparently the Vice-Admiral liked her, thought she was pretty, and didn't seem to see this as a punishment.... She continued to kneel, looking at the one-eyed rod facing her.

The Captain decided for her. He flexed his hips, and the abergine head pushed against her lips. Hesitantly, she opened her mouth, and immediately he thrust several inches between her lips.

She didn't much like the taste, but then everything on the ship smelled putrid. She did like the silken sliding of his flesh against her lips, and the sounds he made as she experimented with her tongue. She quickly learned to hold her lips over her teeth, and to push with her tongue flat against the underside of his head. She reached up and wrapped her little hand around his shaft, more in curiosity than anything, and was delighted with the smooth firm feel of his dick.

Soon she was stroking up and down his shaft, while she teasingly pulled back for a second and then pushed her lips over his rigidity again. They developed a rhythm that smoothly accelerated, and he was frantically sawing back and forth into her open orifice. She felt him freeze, and then double his speed as gobs of nacreous white fluid blossomed into her mouth. Surprisingly nice tasting, she thought, compared to all the other tastes and smells. Almost like dry champagne with a little salt. As instructed, she swallowed his output, mouthful after mouthful, until his flow ceased and his wonderful stiff member began to shrink away.

"No, I'd like to do it again!" She said without thought, and tried to suck him in.

"My boy, you have the finest mouth I've ever felt; you are a natural for this. But even a lad of your age must have to rest for a moment between cums."

Johnny blushed crimson to his scalp. Obviously there were things 'he' didn't know about sexual activities and men. She had assumed that men could rape a woman for hours upon hours; apparently not.

"Son, you're going to make me the happiest Captain in all the oceans of the world."

...- --- - . / ..-. --- .-. / ... .. .-.. -.- -.—

As time passed they developed a close bond; almost every day, Johnny would kneel before his Captain and orally empty the Master's balls. As he got better at it, he would tease and lick, sometimes taking the entire shaft down his throat, sometimes barely letting the head pass his lips. And the taste became a reward for service, a special flavor that signified a good job, a glorious pleasure for the Captain. Thompson was a kind and honest man, fair to his sailors, and as likely to hand out praise as rebuke. It was a happy ship.

Johnny continued to eat well, and noticed that his hips were starting to regain their womanly curves. It required more and more effort to bind his breasts. She also noticed a strange development; when she genuflected, her nipples would get hard and tingle. As she licked the Captain's mast, she grew moist in her womanhood, and felt flushed with an unknown heat there, which she had never felt before. Sometimes after the Captain slept, she would toss in her hammock and massage her swollen nipples, a delightful feeling. She even dared to slip a finger between her lower lips and found herself glazed with a lubricious film. It maddened her, as she felt on the verge of something important, but did not know what.

Then one evening, when Mr. Thompson had had several glasses of Port, he looked at her strangely. She had been gathering some playing cards from the deck that had fallen from the table.

"Johnny, you've got an ass like a woman."

She jerked upright, hands over her butt. "Sorry sir, too much good food I guess."

"Come over here, boy." Then the Captain began to squeeze and rub her buttocks. "I think it's time we bent you over, lad."

"But, Sir, You enjoy my mouth so much. And I'm learning more about pleasing you every day; why change?"

"Look, young Johnny, you can please me well enough, but nothing really empties my sac like a little fuck in the arse."

Silky panicked! She had figured out that the thrusting of the penis was 'fucking' and now he was talking of fucking her asshole. If he got there, he would surely discover her lack of male equipment, and her availability of other openings. For a girl who had never been kissed, she now had a very knowledgeable mouth; she didn't want knowledgeable other parts.

"M'Lord, have I failed you in any command?"

"Why no; why do you ask?"

"I told you before, I've never done these things. They frighten me."

"Tis but a passing pain, one you will quickly come to enjoy."

"But do not the Articles of War, which you read to us every Sunday, say that Sodomy is a hanging crime?"

"What people don't know won't get either of us hung, Johnny."

"Please Sir, bear with me a moment. Have we had good luck so far on this voyage?"

"Aye." Both rapped their knuckles to ward off the danger of admitting good luck.

"And I have been a good Cabin Boy to you?"

"Aye, as good a one as ever I've had."

"You don't want to see me hang?"

"Nor myself, Johnny, nor myself."

"Then I will bend over for you, Sir, if you will allow me some lee way and instruct me in my duties. I will continue to give you ease, but I must ask you swear secrecy to me."

"You ask the Vice-Admiral to swear to a cabin boy? You go too far, sir, too far by half!" There was a clear edge to his voice.

"Please, Sir, your word is gold. I just want to hear it."

"Very Well, then. You have my word this shall remain secret. Does that satisfy?"

"Oh, Yes Sir!" And Johnny unbuckled his pants, facing the Captain, and dropped them about his ankles. Silky stepped forward, and the Captain knew her secret.

"By 'is blood, you are a woman!" he whispered under his breath.

"And a virgin, M'Lord. What do you desire of me?"

"I cannot treat you like a common whore, Johnny Silk; what is your name, anyway, since Johnny tis not?"

"Silky St. John, at your service, Sir." She preformed the first naked curtsey of her life. As she stood, she pulled off her coat, unwound her bindings, and showed herself to him in the clothes of Venus, so pale and tremulous as to appear a vision, so beautiful as to be a dream.

"You're the girl betrothed to the Barron of High Moor. He'll have my head."

"What people don't know won't get either of us hung, Clifford Thompson," Silky said his Christian name for the first time aloud while she held his brown eyes with her green in an unbreakable gauze.

She stepped to him and put her arms around his neck, and pulled his face down to hers. The lips that had sucked his cock half a hundred times now touched his lips for the first time, and she opened her mouth and pulled him in. He lost direction, and time. Wherever he touched he felt soft velvet skin, and nothing else. His lips could not leave hers of their own choice, nor could his fingertips remain still.

Eventually, as she assisted him, he removed all of his clothing, without ever breaking the kiss. His loins were on fire, and his tumescent flagpole felt near bursting. He pulled her to his bed, for as Captain he actually had a bed, and there they explored each other's bodies for several eternities.

He was no stranger to a woman's body. Cabin boys were only an available alternative, always a pale shadow of reality. Silky, however, traveled into unknown geography. Like the Holy Land, she had heard of these places, and also like the Holy Land they were hot and dry and full of miracles. And she longed to know them all.

His hands massaged her breasts, and showed her what she had wanted to do but could not invent. His hands traveled down her body, sending bright flashes of lightening with every touch, and loud booms of thunder in her ears, thunder from her heart.

He reached her hairy joining, where she was so awash with oils she felt on fire, and then he began to teach her how to play this instrument as well. She had heard Mozart and Beethoven but neither of them could make this music! Glissades of pleasure poured through her arms and legs as he stroked between her legs. Bass drums pounded when he touched one special spot.

She wrapped her arms around him, burrowed her head against him, and sang out her part of the melody.

"Jesus, the crew will hear!"

"I can't help it, I really can't," she smiled so widely her cheeks hurt.

"I don't want to stop..."

"No, no, never stop!"

"I must muffle you; everything on a ship can be heard, and all will know you as female."

"Then gag me as you must, just do not stop; I have reached Heaven for certain."

He tied her former breast bindings around her mouth, and whispered, "It pains me much to lose your lips, but I can assure you that you have only just reached the Pearly Gates; Heaven is yet to come."

He returned to stroking her fires and probing her depths. The drumbeat in her ears overpowered all other sounds, and she knew nothing except the surface where his skin met hers. She spread her legs and spread them again. If only she could remove them to give him better access to her crotch.

Then he turned, and put his face between her legs. His massive missile bounced against her face, and if she were not gagged she would have eagerly filled her mouth. She grasped it, and stroked it as he liked, but then was washed away in a storm that broke at his face, for his tongue had kissed her there, and no words could describe the pleasure.

Deeper and deeper he licked within her, and around her, and sucked on her, as she had him anon. She held her breath, she could not move, and then the entire ship capsized as huge waves flooded her from toes to nose. She shook with an ague of joy, and quietly swooned.

In a few moments, or perhaps a year, she opened her eyes to look into his, and he pulled her gag away to regain her lips.

'Did you like the ease I gave you, my dear?"

"Is that what I was giving you?"

"Something like it, I venture."

"Why did we not do it at every bell, and twice during the dog watch?"

"I do have a ship to run, Silky. Although in Paradise perhaps this will be all we need."

"I will never choose food or drink again!" She giggled. 'You have taught me so much... so this is what not being a virgin is like! Why does anyone fear it?"

"Silky, my heart, you are but yet a virgin. I made you 'cum,' the climacteric response to sex. But you can do that many more times, and perhaps even more strongly when we make love."

"And this is only.... friendship?"

"No, this is the prelude to love, to build up our fires so we can quench them together."

"Then set me ablaze that I may be cooled, for this exceeds all I ever dreamed of."

He began to nuzzle her breasts, and sucked a nipple into his mouth. He had to pause to gag her again, for her rising moans would be audible to the French fleet across the Channel, he believed. He licked her neck, suckled her some more, plied her introitus with a finger, and finally placed his turgid mushroom at her labia. She was so wet he slid easily at first, and then felt her hymeneal resistance, and paused.

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byOneSilky© 3 comments/ 14670 views/ 4 favorites

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