Date: Mon, 10 Apr 2023 19:12:16 +0100 (BST)
From: Peter Brown <badboi666@btinternet.com>
Subject: After Inverthrum - Chapter 11

After Inverthrum by badboi666

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If sex with boys isn't your thing, go away.  If, as is much more likely,
you've come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex
with 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable - you're in the right
place.

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Chapter 11

After an invitation like that there was no stopping the three of us from
going to see Mick. "Remember what we've been told," I said, "he's been
dosed with something which will make him sleepy. No sexy stuff." Finn
looked sideways at me. "Tomorrow maybe?" I smiled. "Let's see. If Mick
wants mischief he'll be sure to tell us. And we've been briefed that he'll
want someone to keep him happy while his hand heals."

We found him lying in his bunk looking sorry for himself. Any warlike mood
had well and truly vanished. However he cheered up when he saw Finn and
Andy, who sat themselves on his bunk.  "Does it hurt?" asked Andy. Mick
nodded, "fucking awful, but it's not as bad now." He fell silent. "I killed
them, didn't I?" "Yes, Mick, and you damn nearly got killed yourself," I
said, "you're bloody lucky." He grinned feebly. "That's what Peter said. An
inch higher and it'd have taken my head off, he said. I don't believe him
though. I'd rather have a scary scar where it would frighten people off
than have no fingers to wank with. Paul said you'd help," and his grin
became less feeble.

"We'll take it in turns," I said, "but not tonight. You've been put off
limits." He glared at me. "Tomorrow?" I shrugged. "It's your cock, Mick,
and if you feel the need of a helping hand I'm sure one of us will do our
best." He smiled - whatever it was he had been given was making him
sleepy. Finn spotted what needed to be done. He moved over to put his arms
round Mick. "Sleep now, Mick, you've earned it. Tomorrow we'll see," and he
gently kissed the sleepy lips. "Mmm," murmured Mick, "nice kiss," and as
Finn laid him gently on his pillow we could tell Mick was asleep.

We tiptoed out. Tomorrow would be our last full day at sea unless we
encountered any more pirates. And tomorrow night ... well, it would bring
what it would bring.

We reported back to Peter. "He's asleep now. Will he be OK?" I
asked. "He'll be sore for a while, but if someone in Newcastle fixes him up
properly he should mend all right," said Peter. I was amazed that there
were people in Newcastle who could look after wounds. There had been no-one
like that in Carlisle or Lairg. Why were things so different in different
places? Peter had no answer - to him Newcastle was the norm, as Lairg had
been to Finn and Andy. I was keen to find out more about this Newcastle
place - what other things were normal there but unimagined to the three of
us?

In bed that night Finn and I cuddled more closely than ever. The fight had
been thrilling, but the closeness of death was inescapable. What if it had
been Finn and he'd been a few inches higher? Finn felt the same, and we
whispered together, reassuring each other that we were still alive and full
of love. After half an hour he turned to me. "Make love to me,
Stewart. Fuck me, make me yours all over again. Fuck me in case pirates
kill us both tomorrow."

We slept deeply afterwards.

Mick was grumpy the next morning, complaining about the pain in his
hand. Peter gave him some concoction. "It's the best I can do until we land
tomorrow. It will ease the pain. Maybe we'll let you have visitors later."
Mick growled, but swallowed the mixture. "Ugh!" Peter grinned. "Rather be
in pain, would you?" Mick's faint smile was Peter's answer. "Twenty minutes
and you'll be ready for Stewart and his boys." Mick's smile became less
faint.

The three of us were finishing breakfast with David and Robert when Peter
came in. "He'll be ready for you young ones soon, but he's still in a lot
of pain. Cheer him up, talk to him, take his mind off it. I've given him
something, but I think what you three can give him will do him more
good. You won't be disturbed." Andy turned to David. "Do you mind if we
spend time with Mick?" "Of course not, Andy. Mick needs company. Just don't
overdo it."

Twenty minutes later the three of us were crammed into Mick's tiny cabin. A
minute later the three of us were naked. A minute after that Finn had
helped Mick to the same state. "Thanks. I can't manage with this bloody
hand." I told him that we were there to do his bidding, but that we'd been
advised to avoid overdoing it. "I think that means you're not allowed to
cum more than once with each of us." Mick grinned - a welcome
sight. "Sounds about right," he said, "but maybe you'll have the strength
to visit again tonight." Andy laughed. "If you can manage six in a day
you'll do better than I've ever done." "Me too," said Finn. I said nothing,
thinking that Mick's body would be what slowed him down, rather than his
mind. Three seemed reasonable though.

"OK," said Finn, "you're in charge, Mick, what do you want to do?" Mick
took his time, teasing us. "Let's see, what have we done already? Was it so
good I want to do it again, or do I want to try different things? It's so
hard." Finn didn't miss a trick. Reaching over for a feel he said that he
agreed. "So's mine, Mick, look."

Mick grinned. "No-one's fucked me yet. Is that because you three don't
fuck?" Much mirth greeted this, and Finn - the first to regain the power of
speech - assured Mick that fucking would certainly be on the cards. "Do you
fuck, Mick, or just get fucked in that pretty arse of yours?" I asked - it
seemed wise to find out before we got too excited. "I told you yesterday,
Stewart, I let anyone who wants to fuck me, and I fuck anybody. Maybe you
were so thrilled by my pretty arse and what you could get up it that you
forgot?" I shook my head - he was right. I remembered that he'd told us
that his brothers spit-roasted him too. And then I remembered that he was
still walking wounded.

"We've been warned not to overdo it, Mick, so how energetic you get is up
to you." Mick grinned again. "Yeah, Paul told me. My hand hurts like fuck,
but having you three here to play will take my mind off it." He gave his
cock - hard, insistent - a stroke with his good hand. "This seems to be
working, and I know my arse is, so why don't one of you get to know one of
my bits, and I'll see if I can stand the agony," he murmured. He looked at
the three cocks before him, like his, eager for being inside a warm wet
place. "Three cocks eh? Two up my arse and one in my mouth ... and three
arses and three mouths. Hmm. Can't manage six cums, but I could run to one
in each of you." Andy, silent until then, said softly that he would prefer
Mick to cum on him, not in him. "Face?" asked Mick. Andy nodded
happily. "Better be the first then, if you're all going to see it." He
paused. "One of you fuck me then I'll cum on Andy's face. With my poor
damaged hand one of you will have to help me." Finn, alert to every
opportunity, questioned why only one of us would be involved in helping,
and it was quickly agreed that I should assist Finn were help needed.

"Right," muttered Mick, heaving a mock sigh of resignation, "arse time it
is. Do your worst, someone." Finn and Andy exchanged looks and, as Andy was
to be the recipient of a faceful of fresh 13-year-old joy, Finn kindly let
him fuck the boy first. "Just make damn sure you come before he does," he
said. The sight of an innocent-looking (though far from such a state in
reality) boy's arse would be enough to make Andy cum in very short order, I
thought, particularly if Andy spent time warming the boy up.

Mick made himself comfortable, his bandaged hand well out of harm's way,
his ankles close to his ears, his lips parted, his tongue out - hunting for
another. Andy was quick to oblige, and for a couple of minutes their
tongues explored each other. Eventually Andy broke away. "Time for a
change," he said and applied his lips and tongue to Mick's arse. It took
only a few seconds for Mick's arse to open - he had a way of relaxing his
muscle which none of us had come across before (doubtless because of hours
of practice with his brothers) - and when Andy leant back to gaze in wonder
at it it must have been 6 centimetres across. "Blow in it," said Finn. Mick
growled, "yeah", and when Andy did so a pearl of pre-cum appeared. Finn
gently drew Mick's foreskin back and another pearl appeared. Finn looked at
me. "Go on," I said, "it's yours." Mick's cock was soon in Finn's
mouth. "Get your cock in, Andy," he moaned, "I need it now." Andy would
have preferred to feast at Mick's arse for longer, but he knew that Mick's
urgency was not to be denied - it was, after all, a sickroom we were
visiting, and the needs of the patient were paramount. Andy slipped
in. Mick had of course made sure that he was well-greased.

"Ah fuck, Mick, you're on fire in there," Andy groaned. "Well hurry up and
get your hose into action and cool me down." Andy set about a hard urgent
fuck and, as I had expected, no more than half a minute passed before he
tautened, rammed every last inch in and groaned. "Mmm," moaned Mick, "you
cum buckets, Andy. Now get out and I'll give you what you need." Andy
slipped out regretfully and knelt over Mick's face, his cock, still
half-hard, at Mick's lips. "Clean me first, cum hound," he
murmured. Cleaning took longer than was strictly necessary, as it so often
does in circumstances like these. While this was going on Mick - with his
good hand - grabbed Finn and placed his hand on his cock. "Help," he
whispered.

Finn started to wank Mick ("that's nice") while Andy moved so that his head
was on Mick's belly, only inches from the source of the face paint he was
about to receive ("you can lick it, you know"). Each time Finn's fist drew
Mick's foreskin back Andy's tongue licked the boy's cock-head, feasting on
the continual drops of pre-cum. "You taste great, Mick." "Won't be long
before you taste mine," murmured Mick, "faster, Finn." Andy moved a few
inches further away so that it would be his face rather than his mouth when
Mick got there. From the sound of it it wouldn't be long. Mick's upper body
turned pink and he started to groan. "Yes, yes, yesssss," and his cock
spurted cum onto Andy's cheek ... again ... again. Andy's eyes were closed
in bliss. "Fuck!" breathed Finn, "that's so hot to see." He turned to
me. "Will you cum on me like that?" "If you like." "Oh Christ, Stewart,
yes." We both looked at Andy. Mick had finished cuming and his cock was
already in Andy's mouth, every last drop of cum being lovingly
harvested. Andy's face had four lines of cum on his cheek and
forehead. "Yours," I whispered to Finn, "but it's for sharing." Finn's eyes
sparkled. "With you?" I nodded.

Ten minutes later the four of us were lying close together. Our heartbeats
had returned to normal. Neither Finn nor I had cum, but - as we had agreed
after sharing Mick's cum - there was no hurry. Mick seemed none the worse
for the ordeal. "How's the hand?" I asked. He shrugged. "Sore, but I'll
live. Is it time for the next round?" "It is if you're ready. What's next
on the menu?"

"I need half an hour before I can manage a decent cum, so why don't you get
me all hot and excited, Stewart? You've wanked me and sucked me but -" (and
he reached over to grab my cock) "- I think having this up me would be
best." I chuckled. "Only too happy, but you'll have to wait. I need to do a
whole lot of things before this gets in you." It was Mick's turn to
chuckle. "Do your worst then!"

I knew that Mick's arsehole was capable of stretching wide, and we'd all
see him push his rosebud out. That time Finn had been busy, but this time I
was the lucky one. I decided I would try to see whether I could make him
cum without anyone touching his cock. This wasn't what we'd agreed, but I
didn't think - if I was successful - that Mick would complain. He wanted
half an hour, I thought, I'll see if I can make it twice that.

I would have like to have him on his hands and knees at first, but that
wasn't practical given his injury, so I contented myself with getting him
in the position he'd had with Andy. On his back with his ankles by his
ears. He grinned at me. "Nice, isn't it?" I smiled. "And all mine." I
turned to Andy. "Can you and Finn amuse each other while I carry the
injured one to Paradise?" Finn laughed. "Try and keep us, old one." He
hadn't called me that before: I found I rather liked it.

I left them to it and concentrated on Mick. I'd seen his arsehole several
times, and each time it seemed more exciting. Hairless of course (as was
the rest of him), unblemished despite the vigorous fucking it had enjoyed
only twenty minutes earlier (and the doubtless routine fucking it had
enjoyed before we encountered it), pinkly inviting as he twitched his
sphincter. "Well?" he murmured, "coming in?" "Good God no, not for ages,
lad, I need to enjoy myself out here first." I bent and ran my tongue round
the outside rim of his hole: he squirmed. I did it again: he squirmed
again. The third time he pushed gently and I felt his rosebud against my
tongue. "Mmm, don't stop," he whispered. I moved back a few inches to
see. The piping in his arse - the end of his guts, I suppose - was about 3
centimetres outside him, pink and glistening. I licked it: he shuddered. I
noticed a drop at his cock-head (he had pulled his foreskin back as I began
to rim him). "Don't you dare touch your cock again," I said, "it's
hands-off time. Let me do the work." A soft "yes, sir," greeted this
instruction.  I concentrated on his arse. His rosebud was clearly very
sensitive, because a shudder accompanied my tongue's activity. "Draw it
back in," I said, and it disappeared as suddenly as a snail's eye. My
tongue tried to follow it in, but he tightened his arse muscle. "Not so
fast," he whispered.

I went back to rimming him, slowly round and round, and he began to
relax. When we were done, and resting, I decided I would get him to tell us
how he had learned such an erotic skill. In the meantime our game repeated
itself as his rosebud gradually appeared again. This time I was ready, and
instead if my lips I used my fingers, pushing two up inside and using the
other hand to hold it. "Aaah!" he groaned, "that's good. Push your fingers
up me, Stewart."

I must have spent over twenty minutes playing different games with his
arse. Sometimes my fingers visited, sometimes my tongue. Sometimes he
pushed out his rosebud - always a strange sight on one so young, but always
a welcome one, so aroused did he become when my lips and tongue welcomed
its appearance. Every few minutes I saw Finn or Andy lean over his cock to
lick up another pearly drop, but they knew well enough that Mick's orgasm
was not to be advanced by their lips. His groaning and sighing was
continuous, but he had managed to keep his hands off his cock. I doubt
whether I would have been able to resist a fierce wank when I was 13 and
being treated as I was treating him.

When his rosebud was fully out I placed my cock on it, seeking the way in
to his body. "Aah!" he cried, "yes, yes, Stewart, get it in me. I need you
to fill me," and he reached down to my head and drew me up to his
face. "Fuck me," he whispered. I nodded. "But it will be long and slow."
"Mmm, make it last all day." I chuckled, knowing that once I was buried as
deep in this boy as he demanded my own urgency would tempt me to cum sooner
than either of us wished. "I'll do my best, but your red-hot arse might
speed things up." It was his turn to chuckle, and the effect of his stomach
muscles contracting as he did so drew my cock deep into his rosebud. "Aah!"
again and to my amazement I felt my cock, buried in his rosebud, drawn
slowly into his body. I saw him grin. "Peter taught me that. Have you had
that before?" I shook my head. "What other things have you learnt?"
"Later," he whispered, "now fuck me."

I pushed my cock slowly into him, inch by inch, until I was buried as deep
as I could get. His eyes sparkled. I pulled out half-way and rammed back up
him as hard as I could. His cry of delight was all the encouragement I
needed. My plan to keep him on the brink for an hour was abandoned: my need
- multiplied by what magic his arse had wrought - could no longer be
denied. I fucked him as hard and deep as I could. I heard Finn and Andy
encouraging me; I heard Mick - enchanting wonderful 13-year-old Mick -
growling as my cock pummelled his insides. I heard him cry `yes, aaah!' as
his balls poured cum out of his cock high up on his chest; I heard myself
groaning groaning `cuming aaah!' as my balls unleashed deep inside
him. Again and again I pressed my cock deeper in him as each pulse of cum
flew from me.

Centuries later I heard him say, "I felt you squirt nine times. No-one's
ever cum that much in me, Stewart. You're a star." I was too whacked to
reply. I kissed him deeply. I knew that it was Mick who had conjured up
such a massive cum from me.  My cock slipped out and I rolled to the
side. Cum trickled from his arse and Finn was quick to notice and to get
his lips and tongue busy. Mick cooed, "that's so hot, Finn." He paused
while Finn lapped away. "Will you fuck me now, Finn, and Andy after. I love
being fucked by guys one after another."

The plans we'd discussed earlier, when none of us was so heated with need,
went out of the window. If Mick wanted to be fucked by all three of us we
were not going to disappoint him.

*****

That evening Peter and Paul joined the five of us for the evening
meal. Peter had been to see to Mick's dressing. "You seem to have tired him
out, but he's not complaining. Well, only about his hand. Stewart, you can
visit him, but only you, and no activity please. He needs to rest, but he
was insistent on seeing one of you. You're old enough to be trusted not to
get up to anything - sorry, you two." "Is he OK?" asked Andy. "Yes, I told
you, but 12-year-olds aren't very good at thinking about tomorrow, rather
than today. He's in a lot of pain, but he won't show it, and the sooner his
hand is seen by someone who knows what needs to be done, the better. Our
father knows what to do."

It was rather a sombre meal after that. I could tell that Finn and Andy
were disappointed at not being allowed to see Mick, but there was nothing I
could do about that. Peter's advice was sensible. "What will happen when we
get to Newcastle?" I asked. Paul said that unloading everything would take
two or three hours, and that their father would take Mick off to get his
hand seen to while that was happening. I was still amazed that there were
people who could help him - my whole experience in Carlisle and at
Inverthrum was that injuries either killed you pretty quickly or became
infected and you died a lot more slowly and nastily. If you were really
lucky you got better, but not many people were lucky. Here, or at least in
Newcastle, things were completely different: everyone seemed confident that
Mick would recover, and just get used to having only half a hand. I was
keen to know more. "Would your father let me go with him and Mick, do you
think? This idea of someone being able to cure an injury like that is new
to me, and it would be useful to learn about it. I can't imagine we'll be
in a place like Newcastle for ever." "I can't see why not," said Paul,
"I'll ask him - no, we'll both ask him. If you've finished we'll go now."

The Captain thought it an excellent idea, and told me to be ready to go
with them as soon as the ship tied up. "I know where we have to go, but I
have no idea how long it will take to get him sorted - maybe all day. So
bring what you need in case we have to stay overnight. Now, Peter tells me
that Mick wants to talk to you. Go now, but don't wear him out," and I was
startled to see a great wink.

When I got to his cabin I found Mick lying on his back, his sore arm
resting on his chest. His eyes were closed, but he wasn't asleep, because
as soon as I closed his cabin door his eyes opened and his grin
appeared. "They won't let you stay long," he said, "and I want to tell you
so much." I smiled. "Missed us already, have you?" "No, well yes, but
that's not what I want to talk about. What we did this morning was magic
and ... oh hell, I don't know what to say." "Calm down, Mick, what did you
want to say that wasn't about this mornings fun and games?" He paused,
getting his mind in gear.

"Without my hand I'm no use on the ship. I can't handle ropes or even cook
properly. They'll want someone who can do all the things I've been doing."
"They won't kick you out, surely?" I said. "No, but I know I'm useless, and
the grown-up thing to do is to accept and and then think what I should do
instead." I was wryly amused at a 12-year-old deciding what the grown-up
thing to do was. "What are you any good at, apart from all the things you
do on the ship?" "You mean apart from fucking?" I was glad his sense of
humour hadn't completely left him. "No idea." That was honest. "What would
you like to do?" I asked.

His answer threw me completely, although I suppose I should have seen it
coming.

"I want to go with you and the others."

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The fun continues in Chapter 12 as I take this on board.

Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped
nifty a few quid.
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