Date: Mon, 24 Sep 2018 15:02:47 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys Chapter 85 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 =============================================================================== Chapter 85 The crossing was going to be difficult. It was all very well to say that we should forget Prince, but all seven of us had lived with him for the last three weeks, and most of us had had some kind of sex with him. He was inevitably going to leave a big hole in our lives, not least in terms of the everyday work load. Tim and I had debated whether to transfer Nigel into Tim's cabin so that the twins were together. Being twins we could see that having Graham as the odd one out in Cabin 2 wasn't clever. It would be easier if Javid was the third person in Cabin 1 as he was more used to being on his own. On the other hand as Javid and Nigel were now boyfriends it would be cruel to split them up. There was no easy answer, so we decided to leave things as they were for the time being. The meal at 2000 wasn't as lively as it should have been. There were five boys there who had had a glimpse of New York, and for whom the Manhattan skyline in the early morning would always be exciting. There were four men - it was hard to think of them like that, but that's what they were, all of 18 - who had started on new careers, and were full of excitement about that. And there were Tim and me, with no great change in our lives beyond a fancy title and a bit of gold on the shoulders of our new uniforms. Unless someone took the bull by the horns we'd all get more and more downcast. "Tell us what happened with Larry," I said. What had happened with Larry was that the As had been told what their job would be. As the monkeys at the bottom of the tree they would have all the unexciting chores - fetching used towels and putting them in the laundry bin, straightening chairs beside the pool, mopping the floor every so often so that no-one slipped - really dull jobs. "When do you get to do anything interesting?" asked Tim. "When we're about 30," said Alan. "It's not that bad," said Andrew, "because we'll be trained as masseurs if we want. We're probationers for 3 months, and if Larry and the other men think we're OK then we'll get proper jobs. Alan's just being gloomy for the fun of it." "Our duty hours aren't the same as yours though," added Alan, "we're on from 0900 to 1400 then from 1500 to 2000. We eat at 1400. We're not as flexible as we were as bell boys. I suppose we'll get used to it. Larry said he'd talk to us about our other duties on the way across, so that we should be ready for action in a few days." "Are you looking forward to that?" asked George. Andrew said that it would certainly be different, but neither of them was worried about it. "After all," he said, "there isn't much difference in what we'll be expected to do." I asked then what the sleeping arrangements were for crew members who weren't, or hadn't been, bell boys, but neither of them knew. One day they'd probably want to sleep somewhere else - by the time the new ones were too old to be bell boys, say in 1941 or 1942, the As would be 22 or 23 and probably not keen to share accommodation with the next generation of feisty 15-year-olds. Or maybe they would. It wasn't a decision that needed to be made, but I thought it was worth finding out what the provision was. I made a mental note to ask Larry, or indeed Sir. Charlie's day hadn't been greatly different from the many hours he'd spent with Ryan over the last year and more - since Ashokan. The training programme was going to be explained tomorrow apparently, as mornings were generally quieter. Sam's routines were going to be very different. After a 3 month probation he would have a very junior position on one of the ship's Watches. "What does that mean?" asked Graham. "I'm not sure, but the officers are divided into three Watches - eight hours at a time - and apart from the Captain and the First Officer there are always about six men on the Bridge. I'll be the lowest one in three months. "Will you get to drive?" asked Vincent. "I doubt it, but it isn't called 'driving'," said Sam solemnly, "and when I find out what it's really called I promise I'll tell you. I have no idea when I'm going to be on duty, but I hope Will will explain it to me tomorrow. Will said that things are quieter once we've dropped the Pilot and are out to sea." Sam then had to explain what the Pilot did, and each of us learned something new. To think we'd crossed that Atlantic a couple of hundred times and not known about Pilots. We went down to the cabins for an early night. The hole that was Prince was still there, but at least we hadn't talked about him when we were in the canteen. I wondered where he was. Had he really gone off with Edward for a life of steamy sex? It didn't seem likely, but what other explanation was there? The folded uniform was eloquent: it said "I'm not coming back". ***** Next morning we all had to get on with our new routine - seven bell boys, seven whores on display in the elevators. The 0915 meeting was very brief. Sir merely told them that Prince was gone, and that if he heard anything about why or where, they would be told. "Until then, let me worry about him. Patrick and Tim will look after you. You'll be busy, both on your feet and on your backs, no doubt. Remember that what you do is for the passengers' benefit, but if you chance to enjoy it as well - well, that's your good fortune. Good luck, boys!" and off we went, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, keen to seduce and be seduced. The morning was unusually productive. It was rare for any approaches to be made until the second day at sea, but the New York spring air - it was the very beginning on May - must have got all the boy-lovers going early. By 1200 three of them had come to me with news of business - two fairly routine and one highly unusual. George had had an approach from a man who had, as usual, travelled up and down a few times without getting out. At last, when there were just the two of them, he stood beside George and gently squeezed his cock. "Interested, lad?" George had had great difficult in refraining from saying "you bet", because, as he told me, the client couldn't have been more than about 20 and was, in George's eyes, somewhere between Superman and Adonis. He managed to say that Adonis/Superman would be contacted, and luckily the client got out before George could collapse in a little puddle of lustful passion. Equally luckily George remembered to ask for the client's number - 545. Javid had been propositioned more directly by a fit-looking man of about 30 who had asked to be taken to Deck 9. On arrival there, there being no other passenger, he said that he would like Javid to come to his stateroom to "help him with a little problem". Javid wasn't sure if this was an approach, but he had the wit to say that he wasn't allowed to leave the elevator. "Look," said the man, pointing to the front of his trousers, "the problem just got a whole lot bigger." Javid grinned. "Ah," he said, "you'll be contacted about how I can help you with that," and the man went off. "Stateroom 907," he said over his shoulder. Graham had had an unusual approach. "A man got in with lots of others," he said, "and like they do, he didn't get off but stayed on going up and down. At last there was just us. 'Does Patrick still work the elevators?' he said. I said that you were my boss, the Bell Captain. 'Good', he said, 'stay in this elevator till I get back. Deck 4 please.' He got out and five minutes later he got in again. 'Give this to Patrick', he said, and got out. Here it is." It was an envelope. I tore it open. On a piece of Queen Mary writing paper was the simple message: "Hi, Patrick, it's been a long time. If you are still in business, and judging from the sexy young man who brings you this note I imagine you are, I would very much like to meet you and ... have a drink together. And perhaps have a drink with all of your crew of gorgeous bell boys. Love, Arthur. 466.' My day had suddenly got better. I liked Arthur, and the idea that the seven of us would soon be parading naked before him, our cocks about to deliver for his daily protein intake, was a big lift in the immediate future. Graham had watched while I read Arthur's note. "You've cheered up," he said, "what did it say?" I didn't want to tell him before I told the others, so all I said was that the man had crossed with us once before, and that the voyage had been highly satisfying for him, and for all six of us. "I think you'll find time with Arthur will be time well spent - very well spent," I said. I added that he would learn more at 0915 the next day. As it was the time when passengers would be getting their teeth into their first lunch of the voyage (or perhaps the first pre-lunch cocktails) I decided not to make any of the promised approaches until I'd had something to eat myself. I went in search of Tim - he had to know about Arthur before any of the new ones did. I found him driving an elevator, and got in to talk when the opportunity presented itself. Fate has a strange way of dealing her magic cards. No sooner had I joined Tim than two men, both around 40, got in at the next deck. The four of us were alone. The two men looked at each other. "Pinch me in case I'm dreaming," said one. The other failed to carry out the pain-inflicting process urged upon him by his friend - his very good friend, as we soon discovered - but merely gazed on Tim and me as though the clouds had parted and a vision of Heaven had been vouchsafed him. "Can we book the two of you for the night?" he said. Tim, quick as a flash, said that they would be contacted. "You'll find us in 902." They got out at the next deck, swooning (as far as I could tell) with the delights my brother and I might bring to the party. "What larks!" I said, "it'll be fun to see their faces when I show up to do the booking." My afternoon was becoming more and more interesting. "Come on," I said, "let's eat. I've amusing news for you." When we were sitting in a quiet corner of the canteen he said, "well?" "Arthur's on board." His eyes lit up. "How do you know?" "He saw Graham in the elevator and asked him if Patrick was still around. He then shot off and wrote a note and shot back and gave it to Graham. Read it." "I like the idea of 'having a drink together'. I wonder if he'll want all seven of us." "I don't think there's any doubt," I said, "who knows, we might get rich enough to retire. I've got four to see this afternoon, Arthur, the two guys who want twins to fuck, and two others - one for George and one for Javid." "That's a lot quicker than usual," he said, "the young flesh must be what's doing it." I could not but agree. "We still love our old guys though." We giggled the sort of twin-giggle which had kept us going in the Liverpool days. "What do you think happened with Prince?" he said. "I've no idea, but the only client he had was Edward, and he had him three times. My guess is that Edward promised him a life of luxury and sexual bliss in America. Prince is self-centred enough to fall for it. What do you think?" "Sam and I have talked about it with Graham, in case he had any inkling, but he hasn't. He's very upset about it - much more than any of the others as far as I can tell. I'll try to see if he knows anything, but so far I don't think he does." I went off to do the rounds of passengers interested in what lay inside our nice new uniforms. I could see what George had seen in 545. When I knocked he flung open the door, clearly expecting that the object of his desires was waiting outside, ready to perform miracles of sexual athleticism. "Oh," he said, "come in." I introduced myself and explained that I was there to discover his wants with George, and to make the necessary arrangements. "What should he call you?" "Marcus. He's got a gorgeous ass and I want to fuck him deep and long." I assured him that George would enjoy that as much as he would, and I explained the charges. An hour would be just fine, it seemed. "One thing, Patrick, I'm into sports and I do a lot of training. What I like in a boy is a lot of sweat, so make sure George is nice and hot when he gets here." I told him that I would make sure that George arrived in the required condition. "For $80 you get George for an hour, Marcus. In that time you can fuck him, or he can fuck you, and you can suck each other's cocks as often as you can both manage. Are there any extras you might like?" "Such as, Patrick?" "Some clients like to piss on the boy, or have him piss on them. It's $30 extra, but if you like them sweaty you may want to play in the shower." I left him to think about it. It took him all of five seconds. "Yeah, I'll have $30-worth of piss time." I asked when he wanted George tomorrow. "Let's say 3 in the afternoon." I pocketed $110 and asked for his Passport. He asked why, and I told him. "Do you get much violence to your boys?" he asked. "Not any more, thank goodness. No-one has asked to be allowed to whip a boy, and if he did there would be no deal of any kind. If a client asked to be whipped that would be different, but it's never happened. You don't want to be whipped, I suppose?" Marcus's smile when telling me that he had no interest in that direction was as broad as mine had been in casting the fly. I made a mental note to discuss that possibility with the others in order to see which of them might be willing to perform such a service, and at what cost. I got his US Passport and left, assuring him that George would be worth waiting 24 hours for. Deck 9 was where the classiest Staterooms were. Javid's client in 907 had simple needs. Another American, he was called Ethan and wanted Javid's "beautiful dark lips" round his cock, and subsequently to have Javid's jizz "where the Sun don't shine". The expression was then unfamiliar to me, and since the charge for Javid to jizz up Ethan's arse - sorry, ass - was the same as the charge for his ejaculation to be oral I didn't feel the need to press for elucidation. Either way, the receiving orifice was not blessed with much in the way of sunshine. No doubt Ethan would make his wishes known to Javid at the right time. $80 and another US Passport lay comfortably next to Marcus's in my trouser pocket. Javid was booked for an hour at 1100. I went to 902 next. This would be fun, I thought. When the door was opened I was welcomed in with considerable warmth. "So you're the contact!" cried one of them. "I'm Patrick, and my twin is Tim. I handle the bookings for all the bell boys. What should I call you?" They made me sit down, between them on a large sofa. "I'm Gilbert, and he's Hugh," said one of them, "what do you need to know, Patrick?" patting my knee. I have no problem with pansies - how could I have, in all honesty? - but the exaggeratedly feminine behaviour of some queers isn't something I find other than faintly ridiculous. But I'm a professional, so I put such thoughts behind me. "What I need to know is what you and Hugh wish Tim and me to do with you, or you to us, should that be your preference." "Ooh! a well-spoken boy, Hugh, I wonder if his tongue's as good when it's doing other things." This was going to be a wearisome interview, and I decided that, as they were on Deck 9, the price might be jacked up a bit. "Gilbert," I said, taking the liberty of patting his knee, "we're up for anything that doesn't involve pain. If you want us for the night we'll arrive at 10 and we have to leave at 7. Between those hours we are yours to do whatever you like with, in or on, or best of all, up." Gilbert giggled happily. "Can you come tonight?" I had to think quickly. I didn't like making a booking on the same day as the request, and these two were so keen that I saw no reason not to make them wait an extra 24 hours. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but we can't arrange our absence at such short notice. Tomorrow, however, we're all yours." It saddens me to have to report that at this stage Hugh said "yummy!" "There's the minor matter of the price," I said. The usual rate for one man with one boy is $500, but since you are together and we are twins I'm happy to offer you both of us for $750. Does that seem reasonable?" It was time to pat Hugh's knee - I didn't want him to feel left out. "You drive a hard bargain, delicious boy," warbled George, "and we hope that's not the only hard thing you drive." As both of them giggled I thought it only right to giggle too. God, the things we do for our clients. I left with two Passports (and had to give the usual explanation. "God, the brutes! How awful for the poor boy!") and $750. I left with assurances that nothing as "truly horrid" would befall Tim or me. I wanted to see Arthur, but the metaphorically-perfumed boudoir in which Tim and I would be spending the following night was so overwhelming that I needed my 10 minutes out in the cold clean Atlantic air. Twenty minutes later I was sitting in an armchair in Arthur's stateroom with a drink in my hand (not whisky straight from the bottle on this occasion), catching up on all that had befallen him (and he me) since our last memorable encounter. Arthur was still living in Chicago, but was hoping to retire to England in a year or two. "So I might still be sailing with you again before too long," he said. "Are the boys all still here?" "Yes," I said, "but four of them have moved to other positions on the ship. They're too old to attract the kind of passenger we're here to service. Tim and I are Bell Captains," and I pointed to my tiny bit of gold, "and you'll be pleased to know that I have five new boys, all 15 and in the prime of boyhood. They joined us in Southampton, so this is only their second crossing." Arthur's eyes lit up. "I'm sure you'd like to meet them," I said. "Oh, there's no doubt of that. The last time, when all six of you came to play, was something I still think about with great fondness." I asked him how he wanted to pass the time on the crossing. Would he like us in small numbers, or all seven at one go? "You know what I like, Patrick, and apart from stroking your beautiful arses while you deliver I can't manage anything else. I would like to meet you and Tim and your five new bell boys one at a time, and then all seven of you on the last day. Can you arrange that? I told him that arranging such things was now my job, and that Sir had passed it to me a year ago. "And do you and Tim still perform?" "Oh yes. We're still only 16, so there's still a couple of years before we're past it, Arthur. The hourly rate is now $80, but as your needs are specialised I think we can do a deal. How about $40 for each boy for half an hour, and $200 for the session with all seven? That would be $480 - why don't we say $450 for the lot?" "I agree." "If you're to savour all seven one at a time you'll need two sessions a day. Would you like the two boys together, or one at a time?" He thought about it. "One at a time, I think. What about one at 1600 each day - that's what you call it, isn't it - and one at 1100?" I said that would be perfect, and that a boy would attend to his needs at 1100 the next morning. He got up to get his Passport. "We needn't bother with that, Arthur," I said, "I trust you." I left with $450. When we went to the canteen at 2000 I told them about Arthur. Sam laughed. "I suppose you offered him all seven of you." "Naturally; I'm the business brains." Javid asked who Arthur was, and I explained about him and his simple requirements. "All he wants is a boy to come in his mouth. He's 60-odd and believes that drinking the spunk of boys, as he puts it, is what keeps him young. He's very nice and kind, and I spent half an hour with him this afternoon - and no, we didn't and I kept my clothes on throughout. He wants each of us to go and deliver as much spunk as we can one at a time, then he wants all seven of us - sorry, oldies - to parade together on the last full day to set him up for the next few months. I know it sounds daft, but as I say, he's nice and kind. All he'll do is stroke your arse and maybe your cock, but you'll be doing the work wanking and aiming. Now who wants to go first? It's at 1100 and 1600 for half an hour each day." Within a few minutes I had a rota. Nigel, Vincent, George, Javid, Graham, Tim and me. "I can't ask you not to come for days beforehand, but if you're down for him please don't come after 1200 the day before. If you get another client we may have to change you around. But all he wants is one come, and we're all capable of giving a decent load after dix hours rest. Still, I want him to get his money's worth. So no coming for Nigel and Vincent please." 0915 would, as was becoming the habit, be interesting for Sir. =============================================================================== The fun will continue in Chapter 86 as we start to earn our money on the eastward crossing. The photographs in Queen Mary 2 are real. 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. ===============================================================================