A WATERY GRAVE
This story contains fictional references of a sexual encounter between a pre-pubescent boy and an adult.
Please do not red further if such material offends you or if it is illegal for you to access such work.
No violence or coercion is depicted.
All comments should be directed to the writer.
The Somerset Levels Canal System.
Back at the beginning of the industrial revolution in the United Kingdom, a realistic transportation network was required to shift goods between towns in a manner never before required.
The road system, for what it was, was unmade, slow and tedious.
Another way had to be found.
The best engineers of the day including such names as Thomas Telford and Sir Harry Enwright embarked upon a project using a resource that the country is famous for. WATER!
A lattice work of canal systems were built all over the land, up hill and down dale using complex locking systems to balance the water levels and flow of traffic.
They were all cut by hand and sweat in the early years and so were narrow with sweeping curves and low bridges in order to make them easier and quicker to build.
This would allow `Narrow Boats', sometimes strings of them to navigate the waterways with relative ease.
`Narrow Boats' were precisely that. Typically between 50 to 72 feet in length and a width of less that 6 foot drawing less than two foot with a flat keel.
The early boats were pulled by horses hence the term `tow paths'.
Later, steam power would be used but by that time railway networks were under construction and slowly the canal system fell out of use and consequentially, it fell into a state of disrepair to the point where they became a dumping ground for waist and filth.
From the mid twentieth century, a conservation effort was underway to restore some of these old waterways and idiots like me bought up an old narrow boat, restoring it and more! Engines, - luxury living accommodation and fine and beautiful livery.
Let's go cruise!
I'd travelled the waterways extensively since being `brought out' by a competitor. I had a reasonable income from my buy-out and decided to get away from business and explore.
A two month journey to Taunton in Somerset and a week to make essential repairs and relax but now it was time to head off and explore the `Levels' and with luck, onward to the `Oxford Canal' and back towards home.
The Somerset Levels aren't really transport canal systems but more a way of draining farm land to the sea. Nevertheless they are as old if not older than the canals I was used to. Rarely navigated so most settlements have grown away from the water leaving them very tranquil if not eerie.
I motored for the first day seeing only one farm tractor on the tow path. The driver didn't wave but rather looked at me as if I'd lost my senses. I tied up under a bridge for the night, cooked some supper, put to rest a bottle of red wine and slept like a log.
The following morning dawned bright and warm.
The map, for what is was worth, indicated that the town of `Iris' was about five hours away and sported a shop, post office and a pub.
That'll do for me!
The run wasn't without it's problems. The way became very shallow with the prop churning up black mud laced with the pungent smell of methane. Weed and reeds almost blocking the way but somehow I managed to fight my way through.
I couldn't have been much more than a mile from where I thought the town was. The sky had taken on an ominous purple colour and the temperature had dropped ten degrees and what light breeze there had been had gone leaving a stark lifeless almost oppressive feel to the place.
Then I heard a voice. A young voice.
I glanced around but couldn't see anybody but again that voice.
"Sir! Behind you sir!"
I shut the engine back to tick-over and walked the couple of paces to the stern.
Right behind me was a young boy, - perhaps ten or eleven years old in an egg shaped boat which looked as if it had been woven from reeds or grasses. He was thrashing about with a single paddle trying to keep it from spinning around from the vortex of my propellers.
I ran forward and put shut the drives off leaving the engines to idle.
"Are you alright"? I asked.
"I'm taking in water and with the mud and everything, -- can you please help me sir"?
I threw him a rope and pulled him close alongside. Once I'd tied him off, I helped him on board.
He was a strange looking boy. Dressed in only a knee-length pair of rough cotton trousers and a pair of tatty old leather shoes. Tatty hair and grubby face but with a smile that gave light to the growing overcast day!
Despite his attire, he was perhaps the most beautiful creature I had ever set eyes on! I must have looked a complete idiot staring at him as I was and I had to wrench my eyes off him just so I could speak.
"I'm er, I'm sorry if I filled your boat with water back there. Are you alright"?
"Boat? Oh yes! Boat! I'm no worse for wear thank you sir! I thank you for your kind help indeed many folk would mock and laugh at such a predicament. There was one such scallywag ... but I like not to dwell on such an event sir".
Now I've travelled about but this level of politeness had me going! That coupled with his diction.
He was talking with an `old English' accent the likes of which I'd only ever heard on television news archives.
"Go down bellow and I'll make you a hot drink. Do you live near here?"
I followed him down to the cabin leaving the boat to drift.
He stopped halfway down the steps and gasped!
"Oh my word! Never have I seen such opulence! This is truly a palace! Are you a prince sir"?
He turned to look at me and not for the first time I was taken by his beauty.
A classic face. Tanned flawless skin, blazing blue eyes and full red ruby lips. His body slender but with a hint of muscle tone and the whitest of white teeth.
"No such luck! I'm just travelling the water looking for rest and relaxation. Just an ordinary guy"!
"What is a `guy' sir"?
"Well.. a man. Just an ordinary man! Who are you? What's your name"?
"They call me Nat sir however my given name is Nathaniel. Do you travel alone sir? I sense loneliness, - contentment also but still a little sadness. Do you have a wife sir"?
"No Nat. I never had the urge to marry. I don't find women appealing".
I couldn't believe I was talking to a kid about this! Ok I hadn't told him in such words that I was gay and even then never found anyone that I could truly love but what's getting to me here! It was water off a ducks back to him.
"I love your craft! So very different! No paddles or horses and such a very unusual shape! And the interior! So wonderful"!
`Now is he taking the piss or something. No one talks like that anymore! No one is so fucking polite ever! What's all this shit about no paddles or horses'!
"Are you looking for a berth for your craft for the night sir? I can show you a safe place away from the ruffians and tinkers hereabouts"?
"Well...er yes that would be very nice Nat. Thank you".
"Then I will show you. Make for about a mile down the water until you come to a bend that goes around like this".
Nat indicated a left to right arc with his arm.
"Oh a right hand bend then".
"Perhaps sir. I'm not educated finely".
I motored down until we reached a right bend in the river. Ahead of us looked like solid reeds and rushes, impassable to my eyes.
All the time Nathaniel had his ear to the engine housing.
"A very strange noise! I wonder what lives under there"!
"Not strange Nat. I'll show you tomorrow if you like".
Nat gave me a strange far away look.
"Not tomorrow sir. I won't be here. I won't be back for a very long time, but sir! Here is your berth"!
"Where! All I can see are reeds"!
"Go through between those whithie trees. You will see"!
I could see two very old, overgrown willows and a dense patch of rushes.
Somehow I couldn't question him and turned my boat straight toward the bank. I closed my eyes waiting for the crash which never came.
Upon opening them, we were in a lagoon surrounded by trees and a grassy bank. The sun which had suddenly reappeared, filtering through the trees casting delicate patterns on the still water.
We nudged the bank and I jumped off and secured the boat to a tree stump.
Once back on board, Nat was grinning like a Cheshire cat!
" A good berth sir, don't you think"?
"The best I've ever seen! Now I must pay you for all your help Nat. Look here's ten pounds. Is that ok"?
"I appreciate your generosity sir but I cannot accept and indeed, I have no use for coins, rather there is something else I must do for you before it is time for me to leave".
"What something must you do! You have been more than helpful already"!
Nat fell to his knees and deftly opened the front of my trousers and pulled them down to my ankles.
Very gently he took my cock into the palm of his left hand and cupped my balls with his right.
The feeling was the most explosive of any sexual experience I'd ever had and I was hard as a rock in seconds.
I looked down at him as he looked up at me. Sparks of the most exquisite pleasure pin-pricking my brain.
"But I ... Nat? ... Oh my God"!
"Please sir let me pleasure you. I know your need and it will be a privilege beyond privileges to drink from the fountain of your body".
Tenderly he took me in his mouth and deep throated me. So very gently, looking up into my eyes all the time. His technique was nothing like I'd ever experienced before. One moment flicking the underside of my cock with his tongue until I was almost unconscious with pleasure and then a deep suck which felt like a warm, wet silk glove around me, holding me off, time after time.
My legs were starting to give way underneath me and I swear I was almost incapable of coherent speech.
Nat must have sensed it and look all of me down his throat and swallowed and swallowed on the head of my cock. That was too much! I came! Oh man did I cum! I shook like a leaf and fell back onto the deck and promptly passed out.
I woke as the sun was setting.
I looked around the boat but Nat had gone as was his strange egg-shaped boat.
I went below and showered pondering the weird turn of events and the most incredible sex I'd ever had EVER!
A glass of wine later, I locked the boat and headed toward the town.
Well not so much a town, more a small village. No sign of a shop but the pub looked ok and after today, I needed a bloody drink!
The interior of the place could have sprung out of an old movie! Oak beams, blazing fire, old deal tables and chairs. The only sign of twentieth century comforts was electric light!
Three elderly men were sitting at a card table playing crib and nodded at me by way of a greeting as I walked in.
The landlord was a big bloke! Twenty stone plus some but really welcoming.
"Good evening sir? What'll you be having"?
"A pint of Guinness would do as a starter please"!
Three pints later and I was starting to relax a bit and the landlord was getting tired of talking nonsense to the three old boys sitting at the card table.
"You new to the area then"?
"Very! I came up in my narrow boat this afternoon".
"Bloody hell mate! How close to the village did you get? The cut is so weeded up the farmers are cutting towards us from ten miles north of here! Recon you'll be waiting a couple of days. No one uses it anymore `cept for draining. Can't remember the last time I saw a boatman, can you Geoff"?
"Got to be ten bloody years back, I recon! Not a nice piece of water this. You want to stay close and go like merry fuck out once the weeds are clear boy"!
"Arr! Does this mean I'm not welcome in here"?
"No no no mate! You're very welcome. Sorry! I never meant anything like that! Stay and enjoy `Iris' for what it is but get of this part of the levels as soon as the reed cutting is done is all"!
The landlord spoke up again.
"You never said where you were moored"?
"Pretty close actually. Some kid showed me a fantastic mooring about half a mile south. It's perfect. Like a small mill pond or lagoon".
All the conversation from the card table stopped and the landlord looked at them and back to me.
"A lagoon or mill pond you say".
"Yeah. Is there a problem? Am I trespassing or something because I'll move it I am! Shit, it wasn't even on my map"!
"No. -- No no. The kid. Ten years old, tanned, bright blue eyes and in a little coracle boat"?
"Coracle! I knew I should know what they were called"!
One of the old men at the card table pulled himself to his feet, looked at me and crossed himself.
"Holy Mary mother of God! And me not even a fucking Catholic"!
The landlord was pulling a bottle of scotch off one of the optics and proceeded to pour liberal quantities into four glasses.
The old man spoke. His voice quivering.
"Nathaniel is back.------- Did you really see him or are you making fun of us? You must never make a joke about him, you understand".
I told the story from the time I first saw him until the time we moored up. I left out the part ... Well you know!
"So your boat is still in the lagoon then".
"Yes. I locked up and came straight here. Why what's the problem"?
"Stay in the pub tonight. Don't go back. The lagoon you speak of has been filled in for some seventy years past. If as you say, your boat is there, we'll have to dig you out".
"What!? It's the best mooring I've ever seen"?
" What you saw is a haunting. A flashback to the past. It happened some seventy years ago. -- The same thing exactly. He beat the lad off with a pole `cos he asked for something or other. When he went back to his boat he was killed horribly. Don't go back tonight".
It turned out that Nathaniel was killed on the river whilst it was under construction.
Paddling his coracle to and fro the working boats selling beer and food. Sometimes himself.
The account of his death describes an encounter with a man who wanted rather more than `a small favour' but Nathaniel resisted and was knocked into the water and being unable to swim, perished as his attacker looked on.
And so. Periodically he is said to make a reappearance. Being helpful and nice to water people and then taking his revenge on them as they slept.
The last such reported event was exactly seventy years ago to the day.
I shuddered as the story unfolded. Shit! Did I really come into contact with a ghost, - a spook?
We must have done a litre of scotch between the five of us. I was slightly unsteady on my feet but decided to go back to the boat. The others were too pissed to notice my exit.
I felt very calm and in control despite my alcohol intake. I wasn't in the least bit scared. Quite the contrary! The night breeze was cooling and fresh and the path back seemed clearer than before, perhaps helped by a three-quarter moon but it almost looked as if it had been cut back but I was too drunk to give it much more than a cursory thought.
I found the lagoon and my boat. In the moon light it looked like a little piece of heaven. Warm, cosy and quiet save from the gentle lapping of the water against the hull of my boat, the occasional quack from a roosting duck and the spash of a rising fish.
Another stiff whiskey and bed.
"Sir? If you please sir"?
I woke with a start. Almost as if I'd never been asleep but there it was again.
"Sir? Please sir"?
No fear despite the stories.
"Yes Nat. Please come in and feel at home. You are welcome here"!
The same small delicate little boy entered the cabin and made his way over to where I was laying. He was smiling that beautiful smile!
He proceeded to undress and get into my bed. His body warm and velvety, smelling of old English roses, lavender and fragrances I'd long forgotten existed. Wonderful.
`If this is how I am to die, then so be it'.
"I must go by daybreak. I want to do this for you because I feel your loneliness and sadness. You were so very kind to me. I could feel your love and compassion. I can rest now. Never come back. I want to give you love. My love and the promise of a safe passage for the rest of your life. When your time is through, I will be waiting for the only person who has ever shown me affection and warmth. Fear not the stories you have been told about me. I will not harm you but always love you".
We made love in every possible way for the rest of the night. I was on a high and have, never before or since, felt so consumed with joy and passion. Nats body so soft and warm, his touch like vevlet and his ministrations to my body had to be the most erotic a man could ever experience.
I lost count of the number of times I came, in his mouth, in his arse, in between his sweet little feet. It was almost like I was on a drug high with neither of us tiring from the exertions, pleasure waves rocking my brain, not having any understanding of time!
I must have blacked out like before, because the next thing I knew I was woken by bird song and the early morning sun filtering through the curtains.
I glanced at my watch. Five o'clock. Looking around the cabin there was no sign of the boy.
Did I dream it all? Had I eaten some strange mushrooms?
I collapsed back on the bed and the smell of the night before filled my senses. Roses, lavender, newly mown grass. Then away in the distance, a voice.
"Remember me beautiful man. I shall be waiting for you when you have finally travelled your road. I love you and if it is your wish, we will be together for eternity".
I made a cup of tea and ventured out on to the deck, slipped the moorings and started the engine. The familiar shudder under my feet as the propellers pushed the boat away from the bank towards the now wide open lagoon entrance snapped me back to reality.
No. I'd not been dreaming nor hallucinating.
A pair of rough cotton britches lay on the roof of the deck house and that smell again!
I spoke out loud.
"No Nat. I will always remember you. Please keep your promise to wait for me? I love you too".
I smiled as a thought skipped through my head.
`Strange how death holds absolutely no fear for me now.'