Date: 8 Jul 2002 18:16:16 -0700 From: Dave Subject: 1812 Around the World Historical (b/M) Warning: This document contains Adult Material. If it is illegal where you live to view adult material, leave now! If you find Adult material offensive, you may also leave now. If you have not left, then it is assumed you are either not illegal and you would not be offended by the content of this story. So sit back and hopefully enjoy. This story is a fictional story about a young American midshipman being pressed into the English Navy in 1810. Feedback is cheerfully encouraged! If anyone that would like me to write a story about your experiences send me an outline. Please send mail to: davmay699@icqmail.com. 1812 around the World By Dave My name is Paul but I am known as Pollywog. My father signed me onto a Boston Clipper ship as a ship's boy, when I was eight years old. The skipper was an old family friend. I was to serve six years. At the end of my training I would become a junior officer on a merchant ship. My mother packed my duffel bag and saw me off on my first voyage with all the tearful good buys because she knew that it would be two or more years before I would be home. It was a cold windy morning when the skipper gave the order to single up all lines and set sails. Then as the sails filled with wind he gave the order to cast off all lines. The canvas popped and fluttered and the ropes creaked under the strain. Linseed oil dripped from the riggings to soil our clothes. The boatswains-mates used their heavy rope persuaders to drive the new crewmembers up the rigging faster. Even the six young apprentices were driven up the rigging to haul out more canvas. It was both frightening and thrilling to be more than a hundred feet above the decks looking back at the harbor, trying to see if my mother and father were still on the dock. Our ship was in the golden triangle trade. We were taking lumber and furs to England. From England we would sail to the West Coast of Africa with guns and irons to pick up black slaves. From Africa we would sail back across the Atlantic to the West Indies where slaves would be traded for rum. The ship would sail north to ports in Georgia, Virginia and South Carolina, where the rest of the slaves would be sold. The northern states were still trying to enter the industrial and textile business so the hold was filled with raw cotton. When we got home the investors were paid off and the crew was paid. If you didn't have to replace to many clothes that the price was deducted you got a percentage of the profit. The six of us young boys were billeted in a cabin away from the ship's crew. We were a wild and messy group. The youngest was seven and the oldest was fourteen. He bullies the rest of us. Billy was the youngest one and an orphan. In the vernacular of the time, he was a son of a gun. A loose woman in the port and a sailor probably conceived him between the ship's guns. That is where name son of a gun came from. We had to learn the name of every rope in the rigging and what it did. At night before bed we had to study the mathematics of navigation. We had a lot of work to do. Any time we were not on watch we had to study. I found the port of Portsmouth, England very exciting. The crew got drunk and brought local women abroad. I saw all kinds of sex in the crews quarters. The place smells of rum and sweating bodies as the ladies were fucked in the hammocks. The day we were fixing to leave for Africa the ships Boatswain came down to the crews quarters and called out to heave-out and trice-up. He then said, "Show a leg!" From a lot of hammocks the unmistakable leg of a woman was exposed out of the hammocks. He passed those hammocks and used the rope persuader to swat the bottom of the hammock to get the men up. The rest were given an extra fifteen minutes. The ladies were allowed a little time to themselves to dress and say their good- byes. Then all hands were at their stations as we left port. The crew was looking back at the women on the docks just like they had done when we left home. I learned a lot quickly. The ships carpenter liked boys. If I wanted to hide out sometimes all I had to do is visit the carpentry shop. I loved the smell of fresh cut wood. It reminded me of home. The carpenter would back me into the back of his work place and pull my pants down and suck my penis. I would masturbate him until he would shoot his cum on the deck. When we arrived off the coast of Africa we dropped anchor. The long boats were lowered away. They rowed for the beach and the captain bartered with the black Muslims for the black men and women they had rounded up from the interior. They were rowed back to the ship and brought on aboard ship. The crew had a bilge pump on deck so they could pump salt water up to wash them down. I felt sorry for them because they were either crying or quiet as if they were walking dead. Those that had open wounds from whips cried out when the salt water washed them off. By order of rank from captain, first mate, ships pilot, ships boatswain selected black women that would be their bedmate until they were sold in the southern states. The rest were chained below decks. When the ship weighed anchor and got underway. The blacks below decks all got sick. The decks smelled of puke and the slop buckets would over flow and the decks would get slippery with puke, shit, piss and split food. The stench from the hold was so bad that you wanted to keep the wind at your back all the time. The captain saw to it that they were brought up on deck when weather permitted so their wounds could be treated and the crew could hose down the lower decks. They washed all the filth out of the scuppers. Just the same the hold stank all the time. When it was my turn to pull mess duty I would deliver meals to the captains cabin. The black girl he kept there was naked. One time when I knocked on his cabin hatch and was told to come in, he was fucking her from behind like an animal. Just the same no one was happier to see the last of them off the ship than me. I don't care how much disinfectant was in the soapy water the stink stayed with the ship. When the hold was dry it was filled with cotton and tobacco. When we reached Boston I was a veteran seaman of ten. I was thrilled to see home and eat a rounded meal. In a month I had put on at least twenty pounds. When I reported back to the ship my pants cuffs were a good six inches above my shoes. When our ship was about half way to England a British Man of War stopped us on the high seas. The First Officer boarded our ship with a group of Marines and seamen. They insisted that the crew muster on deck. The arrogant office walked down the ranks inspecting the crew. When he found one that was healthy and with strong callused hands, he would pull him out of line. If the man resisted he was gun-butted by a Marine. When he got the Ship's boys I told him he had no right to impress American seamen. He laughed at me and pulled me out of line and said, "Lets see how pour young colonial sea-lawyer like His-Majesties-Royal-Navy. I was shoved over the side. With that the ship sailed south. All the ship's boys and power-monkey's were forward. There were the usual bullies there. The routine was much the same for me. Only now I was a power monkey when the guns were manned. At first I had no idea where the ship was going. We just sailed south across the equator. This time I was not a pollywog. I was a shellback and got to initiate the men crossing the equator for the first time. My skills at navigation put me in good stead with the First Officer. He even seemed to like me in his way. He ordered me to report to his stateroom when I was not on watch. His stateroom was a little cramped. It had a desk built into the bulkhead with an oil lantern suspended so that it could swing freely with the motion of the ship. There were cubbyholes for maps and charts. His luggage was made so that it stacked on top of each other and all drawers were made so that they would not open with the rocking of the ship. Like all officers of the fleet his bunk was a rectangular box with matching head and footboards. They were chained to an overhead beam so the bunk could swing freely with the ship. Should the need arise to return a dead officer home the ships carpenter would place the officer in the box and make a lid for the box and seal it with pitch. To lighten up the fact the all officers sleep in they're own coffins their mothers, girlfriends, mistresses or wives make drapes to hang over the head and footboards with embroidery of things to remind them of home. The boards had holes centered in them with a dowel running the length of the box to drape the cloth over and in the South Seas where they would anchor in fly and mosquito infested bays light netting could be draped to protect the officers. He took to tutoring me in his cabin. When I made mistakes he saw to it that I had to ride the canon to be caned. That meant that after morning muster and the daily orders were read I had to straddle the barrel of a deck cannon with my chin resting on the power-hole of the breach. Then the boatswain mate was told how many times to strike my ass with the bamboo Cain. Before any of my lessons were over he would open the front of his britches and stuff my mouth with his cock. The foreskin would slide back and the silken head would touch the back of my throat. Heaven-help me if any cum got on his britches. He took to having me sleep in his swinging bunk. He used some oil to lube my asshole before he fucked me. In time he didn't need to even lube my hole first. When the Captain invited him to eat with him, I was dressed in my best Ship's boy uniform and had to stand behind him to serve him. The First Officer would be dressed in his best uniform too. The Captain was a large man. I figured he was at least fifty-two inches around his girth. His belly was so big that sitting in his chair you could not even see his cock bulge in his britches. When the offices were excused, he told me to stay. I was in fear of what he wanted from me. When we were alone, he said, "I hear that you are very good a navigation." "That you Sir!" I said. He said, "How would you like to work with the ships sailing master from now on." I was thrilled that I would not have to pull the work details other than my turn on watch in the rigging. "Thank you! My lord." I gushed. The captain stood up and walked around me. He ran his fat fingers over my uniform gently. When he was behind me he reached around my waist and felt my young cock as it got hard. He asked me to help him out of his uniform. I took the jacket and folded it up to place in his sea chest. Then as he untied his cravat I folded it and stowed it. The Captain removed the braces holding up his britches and unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and the buttons down the front. I took it off over his head and stowed it away. The Captain sat in his chair and I straddled his leg to pull his boots off. He put his other foot on my butt to push me away as I pulled the boot off. When he offered the other foot he used his big toe to poke my butt-hole. When he stood up I had to unlace the legs of his britches. Then I unbuttoned his britches from my kneeling position. As I peeled them over his butt and down his legs, I looked for his cock. It was a respectable looking cock hanging limply between his legs. The scrotum hung low too. The left testicle hung much lower than the right one, in its loose sack. The Captain may have been bald on top of his head and on his prodigious belly. But the rest of his body had plenty of hair. He reminded me of the hand carved wooden Buddha in my parent's home, an item bought in China as a souvenir, when he sat on his bunk and crossed his legs under himself. He called me to him and undressed me. When I was totally naked he took hold of my cock and milked it until my cock was stiff. He pulled me closer and took my cock in his mouth and sucked me. He stopped short of sucking me to a climax. He laid me face down over the rounded top of his sea chest. It took some effort on his part to get his belly out of the way enough to guide his cock into my asshole. The ships rocking helped him fuck me. I actually climaxed on the top of the sea chest before the captain shot his wad in my bowel. When he was done he wiped my ass and took me to his swinging bunk. From that night for the rest of the voyage I was the captains private plaything. When I was not on duty with the sailing master I was cleaning up after the captain or milking his cock dry with my mouth or ass. When the ship went around the Cape of Good Hope everyone on board was sick until we pulled into port in Chile. We took on fresh water and anything eatable. Chile being Spanish we had to anchor in a port far from any Spanish settlement. We spent a week repairing the sails and rigging. We took the time to re-caulk the ship while landing parties foraged for food and water. We sailed on a course that took us to Tahiti the crew enjoyed the hospitality of the native women to the fullest. To that natives being a large man is a make of royalty. The captain was offered a royal teenager as his bride while we were there. In their culture a girl is not fit to marry until she has had several healthy children. So, my captain was given a round- faced, dark skinned girl not much older than me. She was a little frightened by the white skinned man with the white whisker on the side of his face. Because of his weight he would lay on his back and she would squat over his waist and fuck herself on his cock. When the captain was not around she would pull my cock out of my britches and either suck me or guide my cock into her cunt for a quick fuck. She knew I was the captain's boy and was not disturbed by it. They assumed that I would be a great captain someday. We sailed for New Zealand and Sydney after that. In both ports we delivered mail and picked up mail for England. Seamen were replaced for those that had died along the way. If the food didn't kill them the harsh discipline did. For minor offences 100 to 300 lashes with the cat of nine tails were meted out. The boatswains mate put lead pellets on the strands of the cat for better weight and he dunked the cat in a bucket of salt water after each lash so the strands would not get clogged with flesh and blood. The two most popular capital punishments were hanging the prisoner in irons from the bow-sprint with a knife a ration of bread and water. The crew would make bets on if he would starve to death or cut the rope and drown. The second one was to tie him hand and foot, then pass the line under the bow. The ship's crew would haul away on one line, pulling him under the keel. The other line was hauled in dragging him back under the ship. The barnacles growing on the hull cut them to shreds. Again the crew bet on where he would die of drowning of a shark would get him. If a man on board forced himself on a shipmate that was punishable by death. But if one of the boatswain mates or an officer took a fancy to you it was wise to service them anyway they wanted. The other ship's boys were jealous of me and I had to watch my back around them. On the other hand the sailing master also like me. At night when I was standing watch at the helm with him he would teach me navigation and have me sit on the deck behind the compass stand and he would pull his cock out and I would suck him until he could not stand to cum one more time. The ship sailed on to Singapore, Siam, and Indian. We went from India around Cape Horn. By the time I was fourteen I was elevated to Midshipman in His Majesties Royal Navy. When the ship arrived back in England I found out that the war of 1812 was over. I had to find a ship headed to America some way. I found a merchant ship headed for Quebec and asked the captain if he could use another mate. He wanted to know what I could do for him. I told him I was a sailing master. He drew a line of a harbor in the dust on the table and gave me a latitude and asked me where is that? I looked at the drawing and said, "That is close to the same latitude as both Sato Domingo and Kingston. They are both south facing harbors but based on your outline I would say it is Kingston, Jamaica." He smiles and asked, "If you are four weeks out of this port and you are at latitude 61 degrees 30 minutes, what would you expect to see?" I responded, "Given the speed of your ship and the time of year, you would be about 30 minutes south of Iceland. You would be about a few weeks from Newfoundland. The only thing you might see is a iceberg." The captain said, "I can use you young man, but the ship will be inspected for deserters before we leave port." I simple told him, "Sail without me." And placed my finger next to my nose. The captain gave me a puzzled look and took another drink of his rum. He was an unsavory character. I knew better than to trust him. He just might turn me in for a reward. I found an Irishman that was a dory fisherman. Knowing he would have no love for Englishmen I made arrangements with him to sail out of port a day before the merchant ship. We positioned ourselves so that we would intercept the ship three days out of port. When we secured a line to the ship I paid the fisherman and boarded the ship. The captain had a good laugh at the way I managed to avoid the inspection. Being a sailing master for the voyage placed me second only to the first mate. I was introduced to him and he accompanied me to his quarters here he told me to stow my sea bag. I was to share his stateroom on the voyage. He was a gruff voiced Scotsman, but he was friendly enough. His name was James. He told me he thought they were going to have to sail the whole voyage with just him and the captain doing the navigation. He looked me over and told me I was young looking to be a ship's master. I told him about sailing from Boston at the age of eight and being pressed into the Royal Navy on my second voyage. That I had sailed around the world, and been elevated to a Midshipman by the time I was fourteen. It was a tightly run ship but fair. The captain had all the ship's officers eat mess in his stateroom. It was a friendly time filled with good humor and joking. The captain was not only the third navigator he was the ship's doctor too. He didn't get much rest. He had to treat ailments and emerges to the crew as they happened. When there was a discipline problem requiring more that a boatswain persuader, he was judge. Punishment was swift. His trump card for discipline was that if they were too troublesome, he would toss them overboard. They knew that they would be dead from the cold in just moments of hitting the water. As the first mate and I grew to know each other better, James became more familiar with me. When we were in the cabin together he sat around in the nude more. I found him attractive. His sandy blonde hair was curly and his body was covered with sandy hair. His face was etched from long hours standing watch with salt spray in his face. His beard was trimmed fashionably to protect his face from the sun. He had worked his way up the ranks to first mate so he still had a trim body from working high in the rigging and his hands were callused. He could just about sand wood with the palms of his hands. When he sat in his swinging bunt his feet dangling off the deck he would casually lift his loose scrotum sack and pull it up between his legs. His cock was uncut. It would hang loosely between his legs like a lip sausage. I wanted to taste him, but chose to let him let me know if he wanted that kind of sex. One night as I was getting ready to turn in, I walked past him and he reached out and felt my ass. I got a hard-on right away. James complemented me on my tool and wrapped his hand around it. I stood there with my legs spread a little, so he could play with my cock and scrotum all he wanted. When he stood up I took hold of his cock and milked him to full erection. When his cock was at its size the foreskin only covered half the head. I knelled before him and took all of his cock into my mouth and ran my tongue under the foreskin to taste the headcheese. He jerked when I did that. I guess it either hurt or he got a thrill from my tongue circling under his foreskin. When he fucked my face I drank all his cum, like the pro I was. James pulled his limp dick out of my mouth. When I stood up he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me as he rubbed his beard on my face. He was feeling my cock at the same time. He asked me, "Do you prefer mouth or man-cunt?" I said, "Man cunt sounds good to me, right now." James led me by my cock to his sea chest and he laid face down over it and guided my cock into his asshole. He only winced when my cock pulled a couple of hairs that ringed his anus. I buried my shaft deep into his ass in one slow thrust. To save effort I allowed the rolling of the ship to set my pace. My cock deep in on the port roll and almost all the way out on the starboard roll. James was moaning like a tavern winch as I fucked his ass. When I came and pulled out of him, his asshole stayed open and I saw inside his ass as cum dripped out and down the side of the sea chest. After that night we were regular bunkmates. The rest of the voyage was hard staying awake on watch after James milked me dry. We made the crossing in good time. As we were sailing up the St. Lawrence towards Quebec I had James put the ship close to the eastern bank of Kamourska. I wrapped my sea bag in an oilcloth and went over the side. In a mater of weeks I had walked over the border into Maine and on to Boston and home. My family knew that I had been pressed into the Royal Navy. They hopped that I had not been involved in the War. I told them about my sailing around the world and showed them trinkets I had picked up along the way. They were impressed that I had been made an Midshipman and was a sailing master. My nephew, Mathew, was more impressed with the native tattoo I had picked up in New Zealand. It was a native design on the small of my back with interlocking lines like a tapered rope going to the hips and down the middle of my backside into the crack of my ass. When I signed on with a ship, this time it was a merchant going to China. I didn't want to serve on another slave ship. My nephew signed on as a ship's boy with me. I hope you enjoyed the story and have a story you would like me to write send your comments to: davmay699@icqmail.com.