Date: Tue, 19 Dec 2017 09:03:37 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Queen Mary Bell-Boys Chapter 2 Queen Mary Bell-boys by badboi666 =============================================================================== 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. Don't leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty - these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Before I start I must correct a mistake in Chapter 1. I said that "Peter" came from Aberystwyth; not so: it was Harry who came from there. Peter came from Edinburgh (as stated). Glad that's cleared up. =============================================================================== Chapter 2 By the time the three of us got back to our cabin it was almost 9 o'clock. Sir woke us all at 6.30 so that we were showered and ready by assembly time of 7. None of us wanted to get ready for bed as there was so much to talk about. It was obvious that Tim and I needed to know a lot more about Alan, and he probably felt the same about us - we were, after all, a team now. I got off my bed and locked the door. "Now we'll be able to talk and do things without being interrupted," I said, moving to sit beside Alan. "The three of us need to get to know each other. Tim and I do pretty much everything together - what about you, Alan?" Alan grinned. "I enjoyed seeing you two naked just now, and what you told Sir you got up to made me horny. I think we're going to have ca lot of fun together." Tim and I both nodded, and Tim scooted over to Alan's bed. "Let's get ready for bed," he said, starting to take off his uniform. I stopped him. "No, let's wash and piss first, then we won't need to put anything on after we've done what we are all obviously dying to do." Five minutes later we were back on Alan's bed, our bladders empty, our teeth brushed and our hands and faces dealt with. One minute after that, by mutual raising on eyebrows and silent nods, we were all naked. Alan had a good look at our cocks, as we did at his. All three foreskins were retracted and the incipient erections admired. "Well?" I said, "what about you, Alan?" His reply was detailed. "My uncle and I have been doing things since I was 10. At first he just stroked my cock in my pyjamas, but we soon got down to it properly." "It?" I asked. "Well, he wanked me a few times - I'd been wanking myself for a year by then, but no-one else had touched my cock, or even seen it. It was hundreds of times better when he did me, and thousands of times better when he first sucked me off. Any 10-year-old who's had that kind of thrill wants to have it again and again, and Uncle Bob was just as keen as I was. About the third time we did it he said I could play with his cock if I wanted - he said it would be nice for both of us. Well, I was full of the thrill of another dry cum, so I was inside his trousers before you could spit. I couldn't believe the size of his cock! I know now that it wasn't all that special, but I'd never seen a man naked before, and Uncle Bob's very hairy. It was like a fucking python in the jungle." "Did you stroke it nicely?" asked Tim. "You bet, Tim, I stroked it very nicely indeed and it got so excited it was sick all over my hand. I had no idea about spunk then, but Uncle Bob said it was what happened to older boys and men, and that my cock would squirt one day. It was messy, so he suggested I lick it up. 'It'll put hairs on your chest, Alan' he said. I wasn't going to argue - after all, everything else he'd suggested had been great fun, so I licked it all up and swallowed it. I didn't like the taste at first, but I soon got used to it." "Did he fuck you?" I asked. "Not then, but he told me he would when I was a bit older. I suppose he said that to make me want it all the more. He started to play with my arse when he was sucking my cock, and I felt much nicer when he was doing that. About a month before my 11th birthday he told me he'd fuck me then as a birthday treat. I could hardly sleep - I was far more excited about getting fucked than I was about getting any presents." "So what happened on your birthday?" asked Tim, now fully erect and leaking precum. I thought it was time to get a bit more intimate, so I reached down and stroked Alan's cock. This had the desired effect of encouraging him to stroke Tim's. When he did he felt the precum and rubbed his fingers in it, then transferred them to his mouth. "Mmm, tasty!" he said. Each of us had been sucked off by Sir only an hour ago, but 60 minutes of recovery time is more than enough at that age. Now, 81 years later, it takes more like a week. I asked him how his uncle had such easy access to him. Did the uncle live with them? It was a large family in Walthamstow, east of London. Alan was the middle of five children, and the only boy. His mother's youngest brother Bob lived with them as he had some kind of injury which meant he needed some kind of looking after - Alan was vague about quite what it was - but whatever it was it didn't interfere with Bob's sexual functioning. Alan would discover it didn't interfere with his urinary functioning either, but that came well after his 11th birthday. With two pairs of sisters who played together Alan made the most of being the only boy and teamed up with the other younger man in the house. He and Bob had adventures of all kinds - adventures that could be talked about with his parents, that is. Bob had taken him to the Zoo and on exciting trips to the far end of the local bus route. You saw the name on the destination blind every day, and it acquired the fascination of an exotic place. Not quite Timbuctoo, but still exciting. You got there and it was just another row of shops like Walthamstow, but sitting next to Uncle Bob at the very back upstairs there were little secret bits of the adventure you didn't tell Mum and Dad about. So Alan and Bob spending time together was natural. I asked Alan how old Bob was when he started fooling about with him. "He was 17 when he got injured in 1928. I was born in 1920, so he'd have been 19 or 20." That made sense - if Bob had been 30 surely Alan's parents would have been suspicious. "It helped that we shared a bedroom of course," added Alan simply. It all suddenly made sense. "Come on, your 11th birthday: what happened?" demanded Tim. "I don't want to tell you," said Alan quietly. Tim was disappointed. "Why not?" "Because I want to show you," said Alan triumphantly, tugging hard on Tim's cock. "You asked for that, kid," said I annoyingly (he hates being called 'Kid', but I don't do it very often, and usually when he's not likely to retaliate. With Alan grabbing his cock and his arse about to be assaulted I felt retaliation to be unlikely). Good as his word Alan turned the willing - very willing - Tim onto his front and spread his legs. Tim, not exactly an innocent in the being-fucked department, helpfully knelt and raised his arse invitingly. "Show then," he said, "I'm waiting." I have no idea whether what followed was a faithful repeat of what Bob had done six years earlier, or whether Alan had an agenda of his own, and it doesn't really matter. Bob fucked Alan and now Alan is about to fuck Tim. Alan's cock was about 6 inches, and quite thick. Father Corrigan's had been longer and thicker, and Tim had had no trouble taking it, so he would be able to take Alan's without any difficulty. He didn't want to miss out on being thoroughly warmed up however, so Father Corrigan wasn't mentioned. Not then anyway. Alan knelt behind Tim and gently parted his cheeks. "Mmm, nice," he said before bending to lick Tim's crack. I had some Vaseline, so I passed it to Alan. "We'll need to get Sir to give us plenty of this," I said, 'cos we'll each need to have some to take with us when we go visiting. Alan smeared some on his fingers and soon had plenty well up inside a squirming Tim. "Come on, Alan, get your cock inside me," he said, "I need a good fucking." Alan would fuck each of us dozens of times in the next couple of years, and we would fuck him as often. The first time, though, was a bit special simply because the cock was new and how its owner moved it in the receiver's arse was new and unexpected. Afterwards Alan told us that he liked fucking boys a bit younger than himself - a good thing because that's what he was being offered. Alan set to work once he was in, and fucked Tim good and hard for about six minutes before he gave a groan, plunged even deeper and filled Tim's arse with his hot spunk. "Oh yeah, that's so got, Alan, I can feel your spunk spurting in me." I know that when I fuck Tim he likes me to reach round and wank him as I cum, so I knew that I needed to get to his cock fast. Usually, as I say, I wank him but this time I could give him a treat. Scooting underneath I put my lips round his hard cock. I could feel the heat of it. "Yeah, Patrick, suck me off, I'm bloody nearly there!" Thirty seconds later my brother's spunk was on my tongue; ten seconds after that it was on his tongue; ten seconds after that we both swallowed. "Christ!" said Alan, "that looks hot. I've never done that. I must do that with one of you next time. Tim and I both thought that would be a good idea. We needed to rest, so we all laid on Alan's bed to talk. I said, "if we're going to get lots of business we have to have a plan. Sir told us what to do if we're approached, but no-one has an idea yet that we're available, and that the others aren't." "How do you know they're not?" asked Alan. "Well, Sir didn't suggest they were - he made it pretty clear we were special. I think we should find out about the others ourselves. They're all 16, so that probably all wank pretty regularly. The question is whether they want to wank with other boys, or with men. There are three of us, and nine of them. I suggest we each work on one in each of the other three cabins." "What do you mean 'work'!" said Alan. "Well, I pick one boy from each if the other cabins and try to have a conversation with him about wanking. I don't mean straight out, but it shouldn't be difficult to work round to it in the showers, say. Sooner or later a stiffy will appear and it's only natural for horny boys to comment on it. I reckon we ought to have a pretty good idea who might be up for it within a month." Tim said, "yes, that's a good idea. I'm up fir trying. It's not as though we had anything to lose." Alan agreed. "OK," I said, "we'll need to find out who's in which cabin." "I know already," said Alan, 'cos I helped Sir allocate them. We mixed boys up, so that the Scottish and Welsh ones weren't all together." He got up and got a piece of paper from the drawer. "We're in Cabin 1. Cabin 2 is Roger, Peter and Sam. Cabin 3 is Stewart, Harry and Dave, and Charlie, Chris and Andrew are in Cabin 4. Charlie got very annoyed when I groped his arse when they were taking our photo, so he's no use." "I don't agree," I said, "my guess is that as he comes from somewhere really remote he's never had the chance to rebel against his parents. They're probably strict church-goers and the poor boy really believes in hell fire." "Don't you?" asked Alan, "I thought Catholics were into Hell." "Oh, we're into Hell all right if you mean we're headed there," answered Tim, "but we don't believe in all the mumbo-jumbo that goes with it. How can you, when your priest is busy fucking you silly?" From a purely theological perspective there was no answer which sprang readily to Alan's lips. "Leave Charlie to me," I said, "I'll enjoy the challenge. As for the others I'll take Dave and Roger; Tim will take Andrew, Stewart and Peter; and you, Alan, take Sam, Harry and Chris. Let's not be in too much hurry about it - what we want is to be able to tell Sir in a month or two that we've recruited some more for his gang of likely lads. Agreed?" Both nodded enthusiastically. "How should we do it?" asked Alan. "It depends," I said, "I don't think there can be a hard and fast rule. Wait until you and one of your targets are the only boys in the shower maybe, pull your cock while you're washing it so he can see, and say something like you need a good wank but you can't in the cabin. Let your target see that you've got a stiffy and see what happens. If he's interested I'm sure you'll think of a way of taking it further - but don't for God's sake say anything about Us. Just get to the stage, if he wants to play, of maybe agreeing to do it again, just the two of you. That way you'll see if he's interested enough to think of where and when. Leave me to let Sir know what we're planning to do - it'll be better if he's aware of our plans in case some boy complains to him about unwanted attention or immoral behaviour in the showers." More enthusiastic nods. Indeed the enthusiasm being shown by all three of us for possible fumblings in the showers was producing three more semi-stiff cocks. Tim was all for more action before we turned in - being younger than me he recovers more quickly, I think. "I want to see Alan fuck you," he said to me, "but only if this old guy can manage another." "Cheeky sod," said Alan happily, and applied himself to my arse with the Vaseline. Alan took longer to cum than had had up Tim - perhaps I'd let Tim go second next time - and I enjoyed ten minutes of 16-year-old energy before I felt him coat my guts. Tim returned the favour I had done him earlier and seconds after Alan came I did so in Tim's warm soft mouth - a familiar place for my spunk to shoot into. A general collapse followed. Now, in the important 60 seconds after a good cum, was the time to test Alan: would he like being kissed, or would he be annoyed? He loved it! I didn't think it very likely that a boy trained by Sir for being fucked by sex-starved passengers in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean would not be up for a snog, but I had to be sure. Snogging was very much on Alan's list of things to do. Once the snog was over all three of us got into our own beds. "Night, guys," came from all three. ***** At 0630 next morning the door was banged by Sir, who put his head in to make sure we were all awake (and no doubt to afford himself the chance of seeing any early-morning stiffies which could not be concealed sufficiently quickly). We went to the showers only to find that all three were in use, with four other boys queuing. Our plan to find only one other boy while we were showering was not going to work, but I thought of a way round it. Parade at 0700 for instructions told us that today was the last day for any preparation. Tomorrow passengers would start to board at noon, and our job would start in earnest. "Make sure you are all completely on top of everything," said The Boss, "and that includes every location on the ship. I will set you all a test at 1700, and I want no failures. Breakfast now, then a midday meal at 1300. From tomorrow your mealtimes will be different as I want to have 6 boys on duty all the time. Cabins 1 and 4 will eat at 1110 and 1810, and Cabins 2 and 3 at 1135 and 1835. You get 20 minutes and I don't want anyone late. From tomorrow you will get a 30 minute break in the afternoon: Cabins 1 and 4 from 1430 to 1500 and Cabins 2 and 3 from 1515 to 1545. Got that?" Nods from most of us. "Got that, all of you?" Nods from all of us. "Good. Now off to breakfast." He looked at Alan, who made a tiny nod. We dashed off to breakfast - "Don't run! Smart boys don't run, they have thought ahead and gone where they should be ..." but his words fell on deaf ears. ***** At 0914 we three sinners were outside Sir's cabin, and on the stroke of 0915 Alan knocked. "Come." (I have always liked 'come' as an invitation to enter; 'come in' rules out the equally attractive 'come on', and moreover leaves the person doing the coming with no choice.) We stood in front of Sir in a nice neat line, just as Sir likes it. "Nothing to report, Sir," said Alan. "Nothing?" "Well, er, ... " "I said I wanted a full report each morning, Alan, and I didn't mean just a report on action with passengers." I spoke up. "Sir, the three of us had energetic sex with each other yesterday evening. Alan fucked both Tim and me and when he'd cum I sucked Tim off and then he sucked me off." "That's better," said Sir with a smile, "I want details. Is that all?" No-one seemed to want to add anything, so we were dismissed. Once we were outside the door I shooed the other two away and knocked quietly. "Come." I explained that I needed to tell him about the plan we had hatched to find out about the other nine boys. I gave him all the details, and he smiled. "Well done, Patrick, I'm proud of you - you have a big future in front of you if you can work all that out." I said that we'd found the shower arrangements were going to make this really difficult: with three showers and 12 boys finding only one boy there was going to be really difficult. "Could you alter the rota maybe? Not now, but once we reach New York there are bound to be things that aren't working as well as you expect. A different shower rota would help. If we showered before or after our afternoon break there would be a better chance of five minutes with the boy we want to find out about." Sir said he would think about it. "Well done. You've earned a reward. What would you like?" I wasn't sure what I ought to say - I had no idea what might limit the reward. What I really wanted was Sir's cock. OK, Patrick, go for it. "I would like your cock, Sir, but I want you to choose where I get it. And I'd really like to have my reward this evening so that I can spend all day looking forward to it." Sir smiled. "My brother was right. You are one horny little bugger. Very well, I grant your request. I will think about where to deliver it, and let you know. One request: you don't cum between now and reward time, and you shower at 1830 after your meal. Now off you go. You may tell Alan and Tim about our reward arrangement - the more they know about rewards, the better for them." "And you," I thought as I slipped out. There was no-one in sight: good. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 3 - that is, if enough of you boy-lovers tell me you are interested. The story is, of course, fiction, but the photographs in Queen Mary 2 are real, and copies can be emailed to you. I saw them while making a transatlantic crossing a few months ago, and the boy I describe as "me" is really cute. I'm sure he had adventures ... Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================