Date: Sun, 28 Feb 2016 08:15:24 +0000 (UTC) From: Koos Smit Subject: BEACH FRONT BOY : CHAPTER 13 Beach Front Boy Part 13 We had been in Richards Bay for a few days when Andre, the wealthy Durban boylover who wanted to sponsor Skobbejak boys in return for certain favours, came to speak to the boys of Skobbejak's permanent crew about his proposal. These boys were really the main stakeholders in Skobbejak, the ship being both their permanent home and their livelihood. The paying students were excluded (even those whose parents had asked that they be treated as part of the crew such as Jul, Stefan and Ian). Derek and Rikus were also excluded, since they were with us effectively under penal servitude, having been sent to us by the juvenile criminal justice system. Not long after buying Skobbejak I had placed the ship into a trust, together with those of my investments that were not already earmarked for my son, Dirk, and my adopted son, Joshua. All the boys who were permanent members of the Skobbejak family, including Dirk and Joshua, were beneficiaries of the Skobbejak trust. I hoped in this way to provide for the virtual orphans who had come into my care once I was no longer around to take care of them. Because of this I treated them effectively as shareholders in the ship and its business operations and let them participate by vote in all major decisions affecting these operations. I had explained this to Andre and I had also explained that the vote had to be unanimous. Because of this he had put a lot of effort into his presentation. The boys, however, were not easily persuaded. `So tell me', Dirk had asked, `What are we gonna get out of it? Why would we organise fuck cruises and let you and your mates fuck any of us that you want just because you paid the fees for Derek and Rikus?' `Well, first of all', Andre had answered, `It will not be just Derek and Rikus ... the idea is that after this trip we will take and pay for all the berths that the students are occupying now ... we'll pay for them in full even if we don't use them! We will source boys that we'll place in those berths for a while until they are ready to move on.' `I thought they would be with us permanently?', I interjected. `Yes, that was my thinking before, but now I'm thinking we should make the experience available to many more boys. So the idea is that they will be with you for just a short while, say a month in and around Durban while you train them up and then end with a trip to Maputo where you deliver them to my beach villa on Inhaca Island.' `And what will they do there?', I asked. `Well, they would stay at the beach villa learning some hospitality skills for about six months and then we will have opportunities for them to go into hospitality with various establishments overseas.' `Sounds like a wonderful opportunity for disadvantaged boys!', I said. `Sure', said Andre, `Maybe you could send some of your own boys there?' `Perhaps', I replied, `We can certainly look at it.' `Fair enough, but', Johan persisted, `You didn't paid nothing yet ... and Derek and Rikus is already covered by the fees of the boys that buggered off.' `Well, that is true ...'. Andre replied, `But yesterday I transferred the money to cover their fees for the next six months into your bank account, so that the fees forfeited by the other two boys will be pure profit.' The boys looked at me for confirmation. `Yes, that's true', I said, `The money was paid'. The boys were silent for a while as they digested this information. Finally they said they would think about it and let Andre know their decision once they had made it. Clearly exasperated at this further delay to finalising his plans, Andre looked at me for help. `Jonathan?', he queried, `You're in charge here ... Can't you get this thing moving?' I shrugged my shoulders: `That's not the way we operate, Andre', I said. `You will just have to be patient!' `Okay', he replied grudgingly, `But just remember I have made a payment in good faith. If we don't conclude a deal that money comes back!' `Of course', I said, `Don't worry about it!' Andre then repeated the offer that he had made me before we left Durban to spend some time at his Inhaca Island beach villa when we reached Maputo. He suggested that the boys give him their final answer then and they agreed to do that. Before he left he took me aside and asked if I would be prepared to do a short run to the Limpopo River mouth while we were at Inhaca. He wanted us to pick up some cargo and bring it back to Inhaca. `It's only about 120 sea miles there and back ... it's an overnight trip ... you'll only need a skeleton crew ', he said, `And of course I'll pay you handsomely!' `Isn't that in the war zone?', I asked. `Well, it's in rebel hands, but there's a truce on at the moment and I do a bit of trade there.' `What's the cargo?' I asked. `That's a bit need-to-know at the moment, but I'll talk to you about it when you get to Inhaca', he said vaguely. `Then I'll let you know when I know more about it', I replied. `Okay, fair enough!', he said Then, a couple of days later, as we were making last minute preparations to leave Richards Bay harbour the next day, Andre arrived with three boys in tow, waving a bank deposit slip that showed he had paid their fees for berths on Skobbejak for six months forward. `But Andre!', I said, exasperated, `You can't just arrive and drop off three more boys and expect me to take them! Apart from the fact that we're actually full up, what about passports and paperwork? I have already handed in our crew manifest to the port authorities. I've been cleared by customs already, for crying out aloud!' `I'm sorry Jonathan, but these boys only became available at the last minute and I thought you would welcome the income!', he replied. `Extra money is always welcome', I said, `but there are procedures and legal requirements! Not to mention I don't have food for them ... or beds for that matter!' `Extra food we can organise very quickly ... as for berths, they can sleep anywhere. From what I know of your boys half of them are sharing beds with the other half anyway, so there should be plenty of beds available!', he chuckled. `What about the paperwork?' `This is sleepy Richards Bay', Andre smiled, `No-one's going to come check who you have or don't have on board. Don't say anything to the authorities and when I meet up with you at Inhaca I will have organised passports for them'. I shook my head as I stared at Andre in silence for a while. Then I looked over the three boys. Blonde, blue-eyed and well-muscled: they were clearly brothers very close in age – I guessed somewhere between 12 and 14. They were dressed exactly alike in faded blue too-small rugby shorts and well-worn once-green school gym vests. Their broad, high arched feet looked like they had never felt the inside of a pair of shoes, and the kids had that deeply tanned, feral look of boys who spent most of their lives engaged in strenuous physical activity outdoors. My guess was that they were farm boys. One by one their deep blue eyes caught mine and their broad, handsome faces lit up with an engaging smile. I smiled back. They were like puppies at a rescue centre, but I hardened my heart. `Andre, I just can't do this.' I said eventually. `It's not the way I operate and I think it's actually helluva presumptuous of you to expect me to put my boat and our livelihood at risk in this way' `I understand', said Andre, `You have every right to be pissed off about this but ... this really came up suddenly and ... look, can we go discuss this in private?' `Sure, we can go to the wheelhouse', I offered. Andre turned to the three boys: `Bly net hier solank, bulle', he told them, `Ek wil net gou met die oom gaan gesels. (Just stay here for a while boys, I just want to have a quick word with the uncle)'. `Ja Oom Andre (yes Uncle Andre)' they replied and we left them standing at the rail with their threadbare backpacks on the deck at their feet. In the wheelhouse Andre told me that the boys were related to him. They were the sons of a distant cousin who had owned a farm in the Empangeni area on which he had struggled for years to make a living from sugar cane. The cousin had himself been born and raised on the farm, which he had inherited on his father's death. Unfortunately, he had also inherited a crippling debt to the Landbank for an accumulation of production loans taken out by his father over the years. The cousin had battled to both service the debt and put food on the family table. Things got worse when the boys' mother succumbed to a deadly strain of cerebral malaria. Recently a catastrophic crop failure owing to a pest infestation had dropped the bottom out of the family's world and a month before the cousin had died in a bizarre shooting accident. The boys were the beneficiaries of a massive insurance policy that the cousin had taken out about a month before his death, but the insurers had declined to pay because they believed the cousin had committed suicide. The boys were left destitute on the farm which was being sold in execution. A neighbour had tracked down the boys' only living relative, Andre, and he had fetched them from the farm. His lifestyle was not geared to looking after children and he had no alternative but to surrender them to the tender mercies of the State's childcare system or place them in a boarding school or something like that. He felt that Skobbejak would be the best solution and he begged me to take the boys into my care. `After all, we're going to be in business together and they're family, for goodness sake!' he pleaded, `I really need you to help me out here, Jonathan, please man, I'd do the same for you!', he pleaded. Well, what could I do but agree? And so it was that Heinke (13), Wikus (12) and Marnus (11) joined our band of brothers aboard the good ship Skobbejak. Andre's parting shot to me was: `Oh, by the way, two things: One; the boys basically speak only Afrikaans. They know very little English. I know that won't be a problem for any of you but the second thing could be a problem: The boys won't let anyone touch them. Anywhere within the tan lines is absolutely taboo apparently ... I think they've had a very puritan upbringing. They probably think any sex is a sin ... let alone sex between boys and men. Which is actually quite surprising, because when I spent holidays on the farm with their dad growing up, he and his dad, the boys' grandfather, were the ones who taught me about man sex! I thought they might have taken after their dad and their granddad but, believe me, I've just spent a very frustrating few days with them! No doubt they'll tell you what a pervert their uncle is!' `Thanks for the heads-up' I said, `We'll take it slow ... but in my experience there's a slut inside every boy and most of them pop out once they have tasted of the sins of the flesh!' `Well, good luck to you ... I didn't get anywhere near their flesh, never mind the sins. With the hullabaloo they raised I thought we'd get thrown out of the hotel!', he replied. `The trick is you must put the cream out for them and leave it to them to decide when they want to lap it up', I said, `You can't force the pace.' `I don't have time for that', he replied, `Luckily you do have a few days. You've got to turn them into sluts by the time you get to Inhaca!' `That's in only about three or four days, depending on the wind!', I said, `Not much time if your nephews are as prudish as you say they are!' I said. `You managed to get Rikus enthusiastic about it in just a day!', he replied, `He was a virgin before that.' `Rikus was different. Yes, he was a virgin, but he was pretty interested to start with!', I replied. `Well, you must do whatever it takes!', Andre said, rather more intensely than I thought the circumstances required, `I've got plans for those boys and I need them to be fucking like rabbits and loving it by the time you get to Inhaca. I don't care if you have to line up the whole crew to gang-bang them all day!' I gave Andre a searching look. `What on earth is the hurry?', I asked, `You'll have much more fulfilling sex with them if they are introduced to it in a loving and caring way.' `Yes of course ... but that's not ... uh ... Oh never mind', he said, `I'll explain when you get to Inhaca.' I watched Andre saying goodbye to his nephews at the rail. Each of the boys hugged their uncle dutifully before he left, but I noticed that it was perfunctory and without much enthusiasm. I guessed they were grateful that he had rescued them from destitution but it was obvious there was no affection there. I sent for Johan and then called the boys over. I introduced them to Johan and then said, in Afrikaans: `Johan, these boys are joining us as crew members today. I want them split up so that there is one in each watch. Take them below and get them settled in. I know there aren't any spare berths but you will just have to run a "hot bunk" system for them' `What's a hot bunk system, Uncle Jonathan?' Johan asked. `You know, like on the submarines? Remember the French submarine I took you to when they visited Durban?' `Oh, right!', he remembered, `Where the oke (guy) going off watch gets into the bed of the oke going on watch?' `Exactly!', I replied. `Also ...' I added, `Get them kitted out with Skobbejak uniform from the clothing store. We weren't expecting them so I hope we have enough.' `Why not just give `em sarongs like we're all wearing, Uncle Jonathan?' said Johan, `We won't be going ashore now so they won't need shorts and T-shirts again until we get back to Durban in six months' time. From here on its sarongs or kaalgat (naked) for 6 months!' `Yes, that makes sense, Johan, I knew there was a reason I made you chief mate!' Johan smiled and led the boys below. An hour later they emerged on deck, a little self-conscious, wearing just the colourful short, nearly see-through sarongs that the Skobbejak crew wore whenever a measure of modesty was required. `Those okies are bit moeilik (difficult) Uncle Jonathan!', Johan laughed, his arms draped around their shoulders, `They said they not girls ... they not gonna wear skirts! I told `em we all wear sarongs, even the captain. They said we must all be girls then!' `But I see they're wearing them now', I noted. `Yes, Uncle Jonathan', he said, cuffing Heinke playfully against the side of his head, `I saw it was this big bulletjie (bull calf) that was leading them on, so I challenged him to fight. Of course I moered (beat) him ... now he's mak (tame) and he knows who's boss! Not so, Heinke?' I saw that Heinke sported a few reddish bruises, now turning purple, on his well-muscled upper body, a purpling eye and a cracked and swollen lip that someone ... probably Johan ... had already dabbed mercurochrome on. Heinke smiled sheepishly and looked worshipfully at his new hero. Like all highly physical boys he admired strength, toughness and physical power and never resented having to submit to a stronger rival. That did not mean that he would not occasionally test his strength against that rival and challenge his domination from time to time, but for now he recognised that Johan was his master. Of course, once the leader of the pack was subdued the other boys meekly followed suit. They had the same spirit as their elder brother though, and as they grew bigger and stronger, they too would challenge others for domination. For now, though, their pack had a new leader ... Johan ... and they would follow him to the death. I listened as Johan went carefully through the safety briefing with them and then outlined the most important shipboard rules. `Discipline is very simple on this boat', I heard him say, `You break the rules ... you get a whipping! We don't do time-outs, we don't make you write out lines, we don't take away your privileges, we don't ground you or send you to your room. Remember that glass case I showed you in the crew's quarters with The Snake and the strap and the cane?' The boys nodded. `That's what you'll get ... on your bare arse or your bare back or both! Understand?' `We used to that', the youngest, Marnus, growled in a husky voice, `Our pa used to whip us kaalgat (naked) with a leather milking strop in the cow shed.' He teared up as he remembered this, rubbing at his eyes with the leathery palm of his hand as if rubbing an itch. Heinke put an arm round Marnus' neck and pulled him closer to comfort him. `It's okay Marnus', he said gently as he stroked the boy's untidy yellow thatch with his other hand. `But Heinie, what we gonna do without Pa?', Marnus sniffled, `He's never gonna whip us in that cowshed again! And we never gonna ...' `Okay, shush now, Marnus', Heinke interjected hurriedly, `You musn't speak of the cowshed again ... remember what Pa said about not washing your underpants in public!' `Well, anyway', Johan interjected, embarrassed by the emotion and trying to distract the brothers, `Let's talk about the other rules!' When he got to Skobbejak's sex rules the boys listened intently and seemed completely unfazed to hear that boys were allowed to have sex with each other without restriction at any time other than when on watch. `Do you guys wank?', he asked them. Wikus and Marnus smiled and blushed, nodding shyly. Heinke just looked embarrassed. `Do you suck cock?', he asked. The two younger boys blushed even more, but they nodded again. Heinke blushed furiously and glared at his toes. `Do you fuck arse?' Johan asked with a chuckle. Wikus and Marnus giggled and elbowed each other conspiratorially. `He does it to us', Wikus eventually said with a giggle, pointing to Heinke, `But he won't let us do it to him!' Heinke scowled at his younger brothers. `Fok my, julle kan strond praat as julle wil! (Fuck me, you can talk shit when you want to!)', he snarled. The two younger brothers looked at each awkwardly, as if realising that they had overstepped a mark. `Jammer Heinie! (Sorry Heinie!)' they said to him in a placatory tone. Their interchange seemed completely at odds with what their uncle, Andre, had told me. It was obvious that, whatever their inhibitions might have been about sharing their bodies with Andre, they had no such inhibitions about having sex with each other. Then, when Johan mentioned the rule that required any Skobbejak boy to have sex with any other Skobbejak boy if asked, unless they were `boyfriends', Heinke immediately put his hand up. `Sorry, Johan, we don't do that', he said firmly. Johan looked at him in surprise. `Rules is rules, Heinke, you can't have your own rules!' Heinke said nothing in return, but the set of his jaw and the tightness of his lips told me that there would be a clash of wills over this yet. After the briefing Johan handed the boys over to their respective watch leaders, who introduced them to the boys of their watch and allocated each one to a `buddy' who would be his mentor. When they had left I put my arm around Johan's shoulders as we leaned on the rail. `Listen Johan, just take it a little bit easy on them, okay, they just lost their dad and the farm they grew up on and this will all be a little strange for them' I said. `No problem, Uncle Jonathan, I understand', he replied. `And let's give them some space with the sex on demand rule for a while, okay? I want them to open up because they want to, not because they are made to.' `Okay, Uncle Jonathan', he smiled, `No problem' I kissed him on the forehead. `Love you lots!' I said. `Love you too, Uncle Jonathan!', he replied. We spent the night in harbour and left the following morning just before sun-up. Joshua was on the helm and Johan and I stood behind him, leaning against the chart table as we motored up the channel leading to the open sea. All watches were on deck ready to hoist sail once we were out in the bay. In the meantime they stood lining the rail on either side, facing outward, not at attention, but standing still with their hands by their sides. I had instituted this drill, not for appearances, but to ensure that the boys were alert and ready to receive and carry out their orders. If they were milling about the deck, chatting and laughing as they would normally naturally do, they could become distracted and fail to react promptly to orders, always a danger at sea. Johan pointed out young Marnus nearby, standing next to Erik and looking sideways at the older boy with hero worship in his eyes. `There's Erik's latest fan', he chuckled, `Didn't take Marnus long to forget he wasn't supposed to have sex with other boys. He spent half the night with Erik when they were off watch. Erik told me Marnus is a great fuck!' `You see, that is why I split them up.' I said, `So they are not under each other's influence. If they're going to be with us any length of time we can't afford to have groups and cliques pulling against each other. It disrupts the team spirit. There is only one team on this boat and that's all of us'. `Well, I can tell you Wikus has also decided to spread his wings', said Joshua, `When we went off watch together last night he asked if it's true that boys can ask anyone to have sex with them and they have to do it. When I said "yes", he said "then can I ask you to have sex with me?"' Johan and I laughed. `So I take it you complied?', I asked. `Of course!' Joshua replied, `Have you seen that kid's bod? Who wouldn't?' Johan nodded `Those kids are fucken sexy! Don't know what Heinke's problem is though! He was the only one on his own last night! Dunno when last I saw that on this boat. Can't wait to slip my pole inside that arse!' `Just remember what I said', I cautioned Johan. `Ja, I know ... I'm gonna give him a few days like you said ... but after that ...', he left the sentence unfinished. `An' I know he wants it!', Johan added, `I can see he's always checking out my bod and his eyes got that hungry look. An' I never seen anyone before who's got such a big fucken "hout" (boner) so much of the time. He must be desperate to shoot his wad an' I wanna help him with that!' `That's my Johan!' I laughed, `Pure altruistic notions' `Al true what?', Johan asked. `Means you just want what's best for Heinke!', I replied. `Fuck that!' said Johan, `I want what's best for me ... an' I hope he enjoys the ride!' Soon we were out in the bay. In anticipation of the heavy physical work to come the boys had all yanked off their skimpy sarongs and knotted them around their necks like scarves. As we turned onto a heading north-north-east Johan stepped out of the wheelhouse to direct the organised chaos of hoisting our two big fore-and-aft gaff-rigged sails and the three foresails. Lines of naked boys heaved rhythmically on thick ropes like tug-o-war teams, hard bare feet thudded on wooden decking and muscles bunched and rippled under sun-browned skin as they wrestled the canvas aloft. Quickly and efficiently the job was done and Skobbejak leapt joyfully forward as the sails filled to the correct trim. A few minutes later I ordered the engine cut. As the big diesel shuddered into silence we were suddenly one with the wind and the sea and the joy of it filled our hearts. At once a line of sweating boys, chests still heaving from their exertions, formed at the seawater deck shower on the foredeck to cool themselves down in the prickly Natal Coast heat and humidity. The three brothers were easy to pick out in the line as they stood one behind the other. Although they were deeply tanned on the rest of their bodies, all three were startling white around their middle where they normally wore shorts. They were obviously not used to going about completely naked and they seemed a little self-conscious about their lily white middles, especially since several of the other boys were good-naturedly ribbing them about it. One of the ribbers was the gentle giant, Stefan, the brawny amateur MMA fighter and young muscle god. Heinke took offence at the ribbing and took a swing at Stefan. Stefan responded and immediately the two boys were embroiled in an all-out fist-slugging fight. Johan and Dirk sprang in and separated them, hosed them down with cold seawater, and sent them to opposite ends of the ship to cool down. Half an hour later the two miscreants were brought before me to account for their behaviour. `He was mocking me and my brothers. No one mocks us and gets away with it, so I slugged him!', Heinke said unapologetically. `I was just joking with him, Uncle Jonathan. He had no right to hit me for that. I was just defending myself', Stefan said indignantly. `The rule is no fighting!' I said, `Heinke, you had no call to hit Stefan just because he was teasing you'. `Exactly!', said Stefan, vindicated. `And you, Stefan, you were wrong to hit back!', I said, `You should have just reported Heinke for hitting you ... then Heinke would have been the only one standing before me now!' `Sorry, Uncle Jonathan', Stefan said, `But you know I can't do that. I fight my own battles.' `That's cool, Stefan, I respect that', I said, `but you know there's a consequence, don't you'. `Yes, Uncle Jonathan, I'm ready!', said Stefan. `As for you, Heinke', I said, `I know you've had a lot of problems and bad things happen to you and your family, and I know you have a lot of anger inside you because of that, but you have to find a way to let the anger go! Otherwise it's going to destroy you!' `I don't want any pity or mercy because of what's happened to me!' Heinke said angrily, `I know I broke your stupid rules and I'm ready to take my straf (punishment) for that!' `Well, I respect that too, my boy, and I'm glad you're ready, because I certainly wasn't planning to let you off. All I'm saying is that you're going to be a very unhappy young boy until you find a way to let go your anger.' At Johan's bidding, Ben had already scurried off to fetch The Snake from its glass case in the crew's quarters and he arrived, almost breathless with excitement and anticipation as he handed the dreaded implement to his brother. Johan held the black braided leather whip coiled in his hand and looked at me enquiringly. `Ten lashes each!' I said. Johan pointed to the main mast and Stefan moved to take up the customary position for whipping, hugging the mast with both arms wrapped around it, hands clasped on the far side. Honour had evolved a custom on Skobbejak that the boys were not tied to the mast. It would have been the height of shame for any of them to twist or shy away or in any way try to avoid their whippings. Just before he got there, Tiaan stepped up the mast in his place. `I'll take one for Stefan!' he called out. I was not at all surprised. This happened occasionally when the boys' sense of fairness and solidarity moved them to share a friend's pain. I was always both moved and pleased when it happened. I never discouraged it because I believed it was evidence of a spirit of comradeship that was capable of carrying the boys through nearly any hardship. The Snake fluted through the air and bit into the knotted muscles of Tiaan's back with a report like a pistol shot. He grunted with pain as a fiery red weal appeared instantly across his back. As Tiaan stepped away, Johan handed him the whip and took Tiaan's place. Tiaan swept the lash up and sideways and brought it down to crack against Johan's back. One by one every crew member took a lash for Stefan. Even Wikus and Marnus, caught up in the spirit of things, took a sizzling stroke across their muscled brown backs for Stefan. Finally, Stefan took one himself. This meant, of course, that more lashes were delivered than were ordered, but no one minded. Then it was Heinke's turn to be whipped. Heinke stepped up to the mast knowing that he was an outsider and that no one but his brothers, possibly, were going to put themselves out for him. His eyes brimmed with tears, not from fear of the whipping, for he was genuinely fearless, but from a deep feeling of loneliness, anger and despair at the unfairness of it all. `Fuck them all!' he thought as he palmed his eyes dry, `I'll take all ten myself and I'm not going to give them the satisfaction of crying!' Just as he was about wrap his arms around the mast, Stefan stepped up and gently eased him aside, moving into Heinke's place himself and wrapping his arms around the mast. `I'll take one for Heinke!', he called out. Johan nodded, dabbing at his own eyes as if a piece of grit had gotten in there. Once again The Snake darted through the air and left a second fiery trail across Stefan's brawny back. Next up was Tiaan and then Johan, and one by one all the boys of the crew took another lash for their newest comrade. Finally, tears streaming down his cheeks at the magnanimous gesture these strangers had just shown him, Heinke stepped up to take his lash. Immediately after the braided leather had scored a red ridged welt across the golden brown skin of his beautifully muscled back, Heinke called out in a hoarse voice, tight with pain: `I'll take another lash for Stefan!' Johan obliged and then it was over. Stefan and Heinke shook hands and hugged each other like old buddies, Heinke weeping openly in a purging catharsis of all the bitterness and anger that had been poisoning his otherwise good nature, and the soft-hearted Stefan weeping in empathy. Once again I was blown away by the revelation that, in the right circumstances, the whip could be an instrument not only of punishment and torture, but of redemption and healing. I realised at the same time that there was no way that such an outcome could be planned or directed ... it happened entirely spontaneously as a result of the specific circumstances that prevailed. Heinke did indeed seem to be another person after that ... more engaging ... less hostile ... more trusting ... less guarded. When the boys came in one by one to have salve applied to their whip marks, Heinke spontaneously threw his arms around me. `I'm sorry I was such a doos (cunt), Uncle Jonathan, I know you're only looking out for me and my boeties (little brothers)'. `That's okay, Heinke, just remember that nobody here wishes any harm on you or your brothers ... I think the boys proved that today. This is your family now and we're not going to let any harm come to you.' `I know that now, Uncle Jonathan, thank you'. As my fingers gently applied the salve, tracing the purpling weals across the ridges and valleys of his well-defined back muscles, I felt my cock lengthening and stiffening until it stood up straight between me and Heinke's lower back. As I moved, the hard, swollen bulk of my pole bounced gently against his back and he twisted around to see what it was. His deep blue eyes widened slightly and he looked up at me quickly with a smile. `Fok! Daai tril is moers, Oom! (Fuck! That cock is big, Uncle!)' he said before turning away. `Dankie (Thank you)', I said with a chuckle. I examined the marble white skin between the tan lines of his middle. Although the sun had been up barely an hour, the smooth white skin was already reddening. `I'm going to put some sun block on this untanned skin, or you will be covered with blisters before the day is out', I said. `Ag it's nothing, Uncle Jonathan, me and my brothers never use sun cream', he said. `Yes, on the rest of your body, which is beautifully tanned and doesn't need it ... but this white skin here has never seen the sun!', I replied. `Our mother always said this was the only way she could pick out her sons from the Zulu boys on the farm!', Heinke laughed, and I laughed at the joke with him. I applied the sun block liberally to the whole of his middle. When I lingered on his beautiful cock and balls and on the perfectly round, firm orbs of his buttocks and the moist crack between them, he smiled at me quizzically, but made no objection and did not attempt to pull away... not even when his cock erected rapidly ... though his face flushed slightly, but whether from pleasure or embarrassment I could not tell. `Come back after three hours so I can put on some more', I instructed. `Yes, Uncle Jonathan' he replied and went out. Next was Wikus and after him came Marnus. By the time Marnus came in my cock was prodigiously erected and leaking precum copiously. Marnus giggled when he spotted it and, to my surprise, immediately reached out a finger to scoop up the silvery dribble and licked it up. `Tastes like Pa!' was the startling revelation from Marnus, `Heinie tastes different!' `That's because Heinie is still young and sweet!' I said, my voice tight with lust. When I finished with Marnus I left the rest of the salve smearing to Dirk and I went below to my cabin for a cold shower. I had just towelled myself dry and was sitting on the edge of my bed when there was an uncertain knock on the door. `Come in!', I called The door opened to reveal Heinke. He stepped in gingerly, glancing around the cabin quickly. `It's nice here', he remarked. `Thank you, yes it is', I replied and looked at him in enquiry. `Is there something I can do for you my boy?', I asked. `Well ... Uncle Jonathan ... I wanted to ask ... the rule about ... you know ... if ... if an oke asks another oke to have sex ... he must do it?' `Yes?', I asked. `Does it apply to you too?' I looked at him in bewilderment. `What do you mean?', I asked. `I mean ... if I ask you ... do you have to?' `I see', I said, as my eyes travelled slowly over the muscular perfection of his 13 year old body until they came to rest on the long, thick, smooth and hairless tube bobbing gently against the hard ridges of his belly. `Do you want to ask me?' `Yes, Uncle Jonathan', he said, closing the door and flipping the latch before moving closer to stand up against the edge of the bed between my knees, `I really, really want you to fuck me ... it's been so long since my Pa wanted to do it with me ... he was so sad for so long ... and I never done it with another man. My boeties try, but they can't fill me like my Pa did.' Heinke's eyes pleaded for release as he reached out and closed the strong, work-hardened fingers of his big plate of a hand around my shaft. `Please Uncle Jonathan', he begged, `I know you want to ... I seen your cock go hard when you look at me ... and just now when you rubbed sun cream on my cock and my butt ... I know that hardon was for me and I know it means you love me ... My Pa told me that. And I really want to feel you love me deep inside ... like my Pa in the cowshed ... please?' As I reached out to put my hands on his shoulders he dropped to his knees and took my cockhead between his wide, moist, warm lips. `Aah, Heinie, that's fantastic', I breathed as his tongue expertly urged the first surges of pleasure from the tip of my cock. * * * * * * The sun rose early over the Bay of Maputo, adding a sharp edge to the warm mugginess of the early morning air. We had arrived in the late afternoon of the previous day and were now anchored off a white sand beach on the northwest corner of Inhaca Island. The sea was flat and glassy. In fact, we had motored most of the previous afternoon in a dead calm. The heat and humidity had driven everyone up to sleep on deck that night. Sleepy naked boys were now stirring in their hammocks all over the upper deck. Some of them dived off the rail into the clear blue water to cool off. I climbed up onto the rail myself and held onto one of the shroud lines as I watched them. Then I dropped off the rail, feet first, into the water and joined the swimming boys for a while. I swam to the head of the ship and held onto the anchor chain as I gazed over the short stretch of water at the sprawling magnificence of the beach villa (more like an upmarket village!) preening among the luxuriant tropical vegetation fringing the silver beach. I climbed back on board via the rope and board ladder that hung down into the water and dripped dry against the rail as I looked across the bay. Twenty miles to the west lay Maputo, the capital city of Mozambique, still fairly scruffy and war-worn in those days. Although the war was largely over, there was still some fighting going on between rival factions in the inhospitable tsetse and malaria-infested interior, which seemed more about control of diamond mining than about political aspirations. The area around Maputo, however, was relatively stable and along the coast a lot of effort was being made to restore the beach and island resorts to attract tourist dollars. As the boys roused themselves and stumbled off to shower, a large motor yacht could be seen powering its way towards us from the direction of Maputo. I expected that this would be Andre, the owner of the beach villa where we would be staying for a while. No sooner had the motor yacht dropped anchor when a rigid inflatable, a `rubber duck', roared over the intervening water, bringing Andre and some men who turned out to be investors that Andre was wooing. `You were absolutely right, Andre', one of them purred, unable to tear his gaze from the naked boys padding about them on the deck and eyeing the strangers curiously, `This is boy paradise!' `Okay, Andre, I've decided already, I want in!, said another with a broad smile. `Patience, gentlemen!', Andre laughed, `Patience'. Then he turned to me: `How are my nephews coming along?', he asked. `They've been doing great!', I said, `They've fitted right in ... made friends ... the other boys like them ... they seem very happy.' Andre slitted his eyes at me. `That is not what I meant, as I believe you know', he said. I chuckled. `Yes I know. I'm just yanking your chain!', I replied. `Actually, it turned out that all three of them have been sexually active since they were toddlers. Seems your cousin didn't stop at helping his father to seduce you, he carried on with all of his sons ... fucked them for years in the cowshed ... where his city-bred wife would never set foot because she considered it too dirty and smelly.' `So what was their problem with me?', he asked, offended, `I'm much better looking than their father was!' I laughed. `It wasn't about that ... Seems he had drummed it into them that they must never do it with strangers or the world would fall apart. But they're over that now, I am happy to report!' As we made arrangements to transfer all the boys ashore, a motor launch from the island was already ferrying Andre's other guests from the motor yacht to the wooden jetty that reached out from the green fringe over the white beach and some distance into the calm water. `Are you expecting my boys to entertain all those guests?', I asked Andre. `Not this time' Andre replied, `For now they are guests just as you are. I hope they will join in the fun, but it's up to them. If and when we become partners I would expect them to participate in providing the services that our guests come here to enjoy.' `What do you mean?' I asked. `Well ... I'm a businessman', he replied, `and this villa is here to make money. My people market the villa by word of mouth only to wealthy boylovers around the world who are prepared to pay outrageous sums of money to indulge their fantasies on a remote island free from any legal constraints!' `So who provides those services?', I asked. `Actually' he replied, `I do have my own boys at the villa!' I looked at him quizzically. `I get boys from all over', he explained, `The boys I have right now were orphaned in the war in Mozambique. About half are Portuguese kids whose parents were farmers or officials in the interior when the Portuguese government pulled out of the country. The rest are Rhodesian and South African kids ... actually one of them is German. Their parents were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I got them from a rebel warlord I was doing business with. He used them for slave labour on an alluvial diamond mine that he controls. The boys spent their nights servicing the sexual needs of long queues of bored and drunken rebel troops.' `What business did you have with a rebel warlord?', I asked. Andre looked at me sharply. `No business of yours!', he snapped sharply. `No offence', I said, `just curious'. `Okay ... sorry', he said, `I'm being over-sensitive ... after all, we are nearly partners now!' For some reason I felt a little uneasy about that comment. `Truth is', he said, `I buy diamonds from him' `Blood diamonds?' `Well ... yes, I suppose ... although I don't like that term ... if you want to get involved yourself let me know.' `I'll let you know', I smiled. `So, how long have those boys been with you?', I asked. `Just a few months', he replied. `Have you tried to reunite them with their families?', I asked. A shadow passed over his face and he gave me a hard stare. `Why would I do that?', he asked. `I don't know ... I just thought it would be the thing to do', I replied. `Look', he replied, `The thing is ... you know ... I don't buy them to "rescue" them. It's a business transaction. I buy these boys to make money out of them. I put them to work here at the villa ... they make my guests happy and earn me a shithouse full of dollars. `Are you not worried about the authorities ... the police ... taking an interest in what you are doing?' I asked. Andre laughed. `This is Mozambique!' he said, `The only law that prevails here is the law of the gun and of the mighty dollar ... and I got plenty of both! That's exactly why I sited this operation here.' `And the boys?' I asked, `Do they not try to escape?' `The boys are relatively happy.' he replied, `They're treated pretty well and this place is like heaven compared with where they were before. Anyway, they have been slaves for just long enough that it's become a habit – doesn't take long with kids.' He added with a chuckle: `And, truth be told, it is an island after all ... long way to swim if you don't have a boat!' `Of course, sometimes they do act up or cause trouble ... they are boys, after all', he laughed, `Not that we have a problem with that. The only crime that we take seriously here is disobedience. And, of course, trying to escape, but we've had very few of those. When that happens we sort them out pretty quickly.' `I would be interested to know how you "sort out" boys who have been slaves in such brutal conditions for so long. I mean, "time-outs", "demerits" and "groundings" would hardly hold any terrors for them?' I said. `Oh no', he replied, `One has to be realistic! You could never discipline boys like these in that way! Three or four years of slavery has taught them to respond to only two things: Pleasure and Pain! Carrot and Stick! The carrot is being allowed to live in this secure and comfortable paradise, but when they start taking that for granted and they stiffen their necks, we have to apply the stick!' `Of course, in their experience pain and sex has been so closely associated for so long that I am not always sure that whipping is really a punishment for some of them!' `How did you get the warlord to part with them?', I asked. `Well, let's just say I made him a good offer!', he said. `Fair enough!', I said, `One has no idea of what goes on in some of the darker parts of this continent!' `Oh, I could tell you some stories!', he replied. `Well, you've certainly aroused my curiosity. I look forward to meeting them', I said. `You will, soon', he replied. `Their English is a little primitive, mind you', he added, `Even the boys who were born into English-speaking families have gotten a bit rusty. But they understand the language of sex!' Dirk drew the short straw to stay aboard Skobbejak on anchor watch for the first 24 hours and Jul, naturally, volunteered to stay with him. They seemed not nearly as disappointed as I thought they might have been. When I realised why I cautioned them: `Just make sure you two lovers don't get so caught up with each other that you forget why you are here!' `We won't Dad!' said Dirk, irritated. At Andre's suggestion we were going ashore with nothing but our sarongs. He assured us that life at the villa was completely informal and that most of the guests would not even bother to wear a sarong. He also told us to take no luggage at all, not even toothbrushes, as he said that everything would be provided. While waiting for the launch from the beach villa some of the boys became impatient and decided to swim ashore. They tied their skimpy sarongs around their necks like scarves, climbed up onto the rail and dived into the calm water. Heinke, Wikus and Marnus were among them. I looked at the three brothers as they lined up on the rail and held hands before jumping in. Their tan lines had gone completely and they now looked like old Skobbejak hands with their all-over tans, acquired in just four days of blistering Indian Ocean sun and the liberal application of sun block. Finally the launch came alongside and we climbed aboard, excited to be going ashore for a welcome beach break on this idyllic island.