Date: Sun, 30 Sep 2018 09:07:32 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys Chapter 87 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 87 I put Marcus's Passport in my pocket and set off for 637. When 637 opened the door he was surprised to see me. I was getting used to this, and said my usual piece. No, I wasn't there to fuck (or to be fucked) but to settle terms. "Ah," he said, "you'd better sit down then." I said I was Patrick; he was Dexter and had a great desire to get his big black cock inside my 'purty white ass'. Having felt the size of it I said, as a good whore should, that it might be frighteningly large, whereupon Dexter grinned a great grin. I said that his mouth looked the sort of place a white boy might put his little white cock. Dexter roared with laughter. "I felt yo' dick, boy, and it's just the right size." I forbore from saying that when I had felt his cock I thought it would be just right: I liked being stretched. 10 inches or so, I reckoned. Two handfuls, anyway. "Let's talk turkey, Dexter. It's $80 for an hour and $60 for each hour after that. That lets you fuck me as often as you like, and you get me to do whatever you want. The only rule is no pain, although I don't mind a little bit of discomfort when you get that mighty thing up my white ass." We were both grinning at this point - I rather liked Dexter, and I looked forward to the challenge; I hadn't had a cock that big for a while. "Well now, Patrick, why don't we settle for an hour and see how we go?" I told him it would have to be tomorrow, and preferably after 1700. That suited him well, he said, as he would have the whole day to get into the right frame of mind. I rather doubted this, because I could see that the most important part of him was already in the right frame of mind. I asked for his Passport, yet again explaining why, and he handed it over together with $80. "I will see you - all of you - at 1700 tomorrow," I said, giving his frame of mind a gentle touch. By now I hoped Marcus was in a fit state to receive his Passport. I knocked at 545. He opened the door and invited me in. "That's some kid," he said. "I'm glad you had a good time. When he got back he certainly looked happy. Would you like him to visit again?" Marcus would. Marcus went further. Marcus would like him to spend the night: was that permitted? Indeed it was, and $300 changed hands, although his Passport didn't. "He'll come at 2200 and has to be out by 0700. He can't come tonight, and from the look of him I think I mean that literally as well. Tomorrow or the night after?" We agreed that the night after would be ideal. I said that George would be delighted to be of service to him again, and we shook hands. It was Graham time. When I got back down Sam was there with Tim. "Have you two any ideas?" I said. They shook their heads. "It seems to me there are three possibilities. One is that Graham and Prince are an item, even though there's no evidence of it. If they are - or were - then Graham's understandably sad that Prince has gone. Two is that his unhappiness is nothing to do with Prince, but with something or someone on the ship: one of us or a client. Three is pretty unlikely, but we can't rule out something which is nothing to do with Queen Mary. Did he get a message from Sir when we were in New York that one of his family was ill, or dead, or anything like that?" "That's daft, that last one," said Sam, "because Nigel's all right. You've not seen any change in him, have you?" My immediate response was to say no, but I paused. He had seemed less bouncy than usual. I said so. "Maybe he's picked up on Graham's sadness without knowing what it's about," said Tim, "we're like that, aren't we." It was true. Twins don't have to say anything to communicate. "OK, let's rule out the third possibility. What clients has he had?" asked Sam. I got my book out. "He had the Colonel on the way across, which wasn't exciting, but wasn't a problem. He also had David, who was fine. He was approached by Arthur, but he's not due there until the day after tomorrow. Would it help if I gave him George's slot with Arthur tomorrow morning? That way he'll feel he's getting business the same as the rest of us." Sam said he didn't think that a lack of business was the problem, but that having half an hour with Arthur tomorrow would lift anyone's spirits. I decided to change Graham and George round. At that moment Vincent put his head round the door. "Reporting back. Mission accomplished. He said to tell you honey. No idea what he means, but he said you'ld know." "Good, thanks. Shower and get back to your elevator. I'll hear about it later." "It doesn't look like your second option is very likely then," said Tim. "Let's assume that it's all to do with Prince then," said Sam, "what do we do about it? A kid crying himself to sleep isn't something we can just ignore." I said it wasn't easy. "I've spent time with him today out on deck. I talked to him and as I've told you, he said he was aware that I knew he was unhappy. I put my arm round him to comfort him, but he still wouldn't say anything." "Maybe Nigel can find out," said Sam, "you've said that twins understand each other." It was certainly worth trying. "Let's get Nigel in to talk about it," I said, "and if he's not got any idea then some of us have to sit down with Graham and try harder. He's desperately unhappy and sooner or later he'll be unable to keep it in any longer. Sam, will you go and bring Nigel down here. Don't tell him why." "OK. I'm on a one hour break, so I don't have to report back up top for 40 minutes." It took Sam only six of those minutes to reappear with Nigel, who looked alarmed at what must have seemed like an inquisition. "What have I done?" "You haven't done anything. It's not you we're worried about, it's Graham," said Tim. "Did you know he was crying for ages in bed the last two nights?" Nigel was shocked. "I know there's something bothering him, but I'd no idea it was that bad." "Do you have any idea what it might be? Prince buggering off maybe?" I said. "I suppose it might be," he said, "he's been funny ever since New York, but if it is about Prince I've not seen any evidence that they're boyfriends or anything." Sam agreed. "The beds aren't together, which they surely would be if they were sleeping together, and they don't sleep in the same single bed." "Have you spoken to him about his unhappiness?" I asked. "Yeah. I've said things like 'are you OK?' and 'you seem down', but he just shrugs. The last time, this morning, he agreed that he was low, but he didn't say why or anything like that." Sam asked if that was usual - there must have been times while they were at home that Graham had been depressed or moody - was this different. "Oh God, yes. We're both up and down, like everybody else, but we can usually cheer each other up pretty fast. Not this time though." Tim and I exchanged a look. We knew instinctively that Graham was in a very vulnerable state. This wasn't just a passing mood he'd snap out of quickly. I made a decision. "This is what we'll do. Sam, go and find Graham and tell him that he's needed in here. Then go back up to the Bridge - it'll be better if it's just bell boys." Sam grinned. "OK, boss," and off he went. "Nigel, I want you to stay. When he gets here let me do the talking. It'll just be two sets of twins. Do what you would normally do when your twin's unhappy - cuddle him or whatever. I want him to be absolutely confident that everyone of us in this room loves him and cares about him more than he can imagine. I don't want him jumping over the side, and that's my biggest fear." When Graham came in Nigel immediately stood up and hugged him. "I'm so worried about you," he whispered into Graham's neck. After a moment Nigel let him go and led him to his bed. "This is crazy," he said, "you've got to let us help you." Graham looked glum. "Look," I said as gently as I could, "it's obvious that you're really unhappy about something. You told me this morning that you knew it was clear to all of us, but you weren't going to tell anyone. What is it that's so awful that it's eating you up, but you can't tell? Is it something that a client's done to you?" "Oh no," he mumbled, "it's nothing to do with any client. They're not the problem." "That's a relief, that means I don't have to get Sir involved." "For God's sake don't tell him, please. Promise? I mean it." I promised. "But in return you've got to trust us. Nigel loves you; we love you - not the same, but we still love you - and you've got to admit that crying yourself to sleep means there's something friends, people you can trust, can do to help. Have you done something really stupid?" By some lucky chance I had asked exactly the right question, because his face crumpled, and he nodded silently, tears rolling down his face. Nigel put his arms round him and held him. I remember Tim doing the same to me when we were about 11 and some terrible forgotten tragedy had befallen me. He and I smiled: he remembered the same thing. We waited while Graham wept and Nigel rocked him. Suddenly Tim's face lit up. "I know what must have happened," he whispered to me. "Go ahead then. You take charge," I said. Tim went to sit beside them and said quietly, "Graham, I'm going to tell you what I think happened, and you're going to tell me if I'm right or not. OK?" Graham nodded, his face hidden. Tim looked at me. I nodded. "I think when Prince got back from his night with Edward you were so happy to see him back that you said things. Am I right?" Graham nodded. "And what you said was that you thought you loved him. And he didn't say anything. Am I right?" Vigorous nods. "And you think your saying that made him run away because he couldn't handle being told you loved him." There was no need for a nod as Graham wailed "yes, and I drove him away and I'll never see him again and it's all my fucking fault," and the tears flowed again. I moved and knelt in front of him, and motioned for Nigel to let him go. I put my arms round him and turned his face to mine. "Listen to me. There's nothing wrong with telling someone you love him. What's wrong is loving someone and not telling him. You've seen Charlie and me, and you spend the night with Tim and Sam. Think how much happiness each of us has with the boy we love. If you keep it to yourself you'll miss out on all that happiness and, more important if you really love him, so will the boy you love. Coming out with it as you did must have been a surprise to Prince, specially if he hadn't a clue about how you felt. Your beds aren't together, so I'm guessing you haven't slept together." He shook his head. "But you want to?" "Of course I fucking want to," he said. A good sign - not only was the sentiment clear but it was expressed with a fierceness unlike the whimpering boy he'd been a minute before. "But I never will because I made him run away." I decided to ignore Sir's instruction to keep quiet about Edward. "Listen, you three. I'm going to tell you something that Sir and I know, but absolutely nothing must be said outside this room. Promise. And say it, no nodding." All three said they promised. "Sir and I are convinced that Prince left with Edward because Edward promised him that they'd live together. Edward had a special Passport that meant his luggage wouldn't be searched, and maybe he was able to smuggle Prince off somehow - we don't know how. Sir got in touch with the British Consul in New York to see who Edward really is, and he hasn't heard anything yet, or if he has he hasn't told me. He'll probably hear more when we get back to England. So, Graham, it's OK to feel sad because you'll never see the boy you love, but it's certainly not OK to cut yourself up with guilt because you think you might have driven him away. Edward seduced him, that's why he's. gone." I looked him straight in the eye. "Do you believe me? You can nod this time." To my huge relief the nod was accompanied by a smile - just a little one, but a smile nevertheless. Nigel said, "promise me something. Don't you dare jump over the rail. If you do I'll have to jump in and rescue you, and it's a long way down." Another hug. No tears though. "Come on," I said, "we can't stay here all day. Before we go back to flaunt our bodies for profit, what do you two want to do about sleeping?" Before Graham could open his mouth Nigel said that he would move in to Cabin 2 and be with Graham. "Won't Javid mind?" "Why would he? He and I are boyfriends and he knows that you and I are twins. Right now you need me more than he does. Don't worry about Javid. I love him and he loves me. Looking after you for a while doesn't change that. Anyway, you probably need my body desperately because you haven't had it for nearly two weeks." That sealed the bargain and after Nigel had inspected his brother's face and pronounced him fit for human company again we all went back to work. But not before I'd told Graham that at 1100 the next day his would be the task of managing feeding time at Arthur's. "You'll love it," said Nigel, "he's a nice cuddly old grandad, and he sucks like a pro." "You were brilliant," I told Tim, "how did you know?" "Dunno, it just suddenly came to me. It fits all the questions. Do you plan to tell Sir?" "I can't see why. Prince is gone and Graham's lost a boyfriend. He'll be sad about that, but it's a sadness he'll get over. Getting all that guilt out of the way is far more important, and you've done that for him." "Yeah, we're good at guilt, us rotten Catholics." As we were leaving Sir appeared. "I was coming to look for you, Patrick. I've had a cable from the British Consul in New York. Apparently the Foreign Office has no record of an Edward Locke on a Diplomatic Passport or an ordinary one. So Edward's a crook. That rather confirms our idea that he persuaded Prince to sneak off with him." He looked at Tim. "You know nothing of this, Tim." "Of course not, Sir." Sir smiled. "Yes, well. The British authorities want to see me at Southampton, and I want you with me, Patrick. Uniform, of course. Got to impress the brass. I've cabled back telling them when we dock, and I've also cabled Southampton telling them to close one of the VIP rooms for us." He descended briefly into the vernacular. "That fucking boy is a bloody nuisance." "Can we keep our arrangement out of the picture?" I said. He snorted. "If we don't we're all for the high jump, so we'll just have to make sure that if Prince was seduced it was his idea. I don't have any worry on that score, but that's why the only person I want having any contact with the police anywhere is you, Patrick. You can keep your mouth shut when needed. While I'm here with both of you, how are the new bell boys settling down?" That was a question to which an honest answer could be given. "Very well. They're good at everything they do. They miss Prince, but they'll get over it, I think." "Excellent," said Sir, "I'll let you get on," and he went back to his lair. When we all went down to our cabins before mealtime at 2000 there was a buzz. Javid told me that Graham was moving temporarily into cabin 2 to be with Graham. "Yes, I know. Are you OK with that?" "Of course I am. Graham is missing Prince and he needs comforting. Who better to do that than the boy he's known and loved all his life?" I was impressed and said so. "Ethan told me something interesting about you," I said. "He said you had a beautiful body - well, we all know that, and it's true - but he also said you had a beautiful soul." Javid smiled. "That's nice. I like Ethan. Am I to spend the night with him?" "Tomorrow." That wasn't the buzz though. Between my sending Nigel and Graham back to real life and their knocking off at 1945 there had been an unusual occurrence. Graham and Nigel had left Cabin 1 together and were still together when they got to the elevators. They decided to go to the top deck for a breath of air before resuming their elevator duties, and to have a few quiet minutes together. When they went back they were in the same elevator on the way down, intending that Nigel would change to a different elevator at the main deck where the Purser's office was. On the way a man got in, one who had given bell boys the once-over a few times during the voyage. As he was on his own he evidently decided that the moment was now ripe. "If you two would like to earn some extra money I'd like it if you spent some time with me and my little friend," he said quickly. Nigel smiled and said he would be contacted. "Good. I'm in room 733." The elevator stopped at the next deck and a couple got in. 733 got out with a smile. When the couple got out Nigel said, "you go and tell Patrick. It's time you had a treat." So when Graham found me some time later he was much more like his old self. "What was he like?" I said. "English, about 35 I think. Slim, nice smile." "Did he say anything about his friend?" "No." I said I would go and find out. "You are due to have half an hour with Arthur at 1100 and you'll come once. Can you manage a session with Nigel and these guys tomorrow afternoon?" "Of course. Just give me an hour or two and I can perform two or three times." I sent him back to his elevator and said I'd tell then what was happening when we ate at 2000. I wasn't all that keen on the "and my little friend" idea. If the second man had been in the elevator, as Gilbert and Hugh had been, then what was being expected was clear. However this mysterious second person could be anything, and as had happened two years ago with Alan, a second person spelt danger. Still, business was business, and if "little" had been used literally the twins might be in for a Bertie experience. I knocked at 733 and the door was opened. I saw a man and a boy, who couldn't have been more than 12 or 13. I introduced myself and said that I was the contact he was expecting. "I like the look of him," said the boy. "But this is not one of the ones we're getting, not now anyway. Sit down, Patrick. I saw two of your boys in the lift and when I made a proposition to them they took it in their stride. I assume you're here to tell me what they do, and how much it will cost." I said that they would be happy to do anything, or to permit them to do anything with them, short of pain. "Oh, we're not interested in anything painful." I still wasn't sure whether the boy was expected to be part of this, so I asked him what Graham and Nigel - "they're twins, by the way" - should call him. "My name is Don, and my nephew's name is Micky. He's 13 and knows exactly what he likes. When I told him that I had arranged for two nice boys to come and play he was very pleased, weren't you, Micky?" Micky's reply left no room for doubt. "I want them to fuck me," he said. I told him that that was what Graham and Nigel were very good at. "Let's get into details, Don," I said. "An hour with a boy is $80, but if you want two I'm willing to lower the price on the second one to $60, so an hour with both of them is going to be $140. Each hour after that is another $100. For that you and Micky can fuck them, or suck their cocks, or they can fuck you and suck your cocks as often as you can manage. If you want any extras they cost more." Micky was alert enough to ask what "extras" meant. "If you want to piss on them, or them to piss on you. It's $50 extra - that's for both of them." Micky wrinkled his nose - it was a very sexy, turned-up little nose with a dusting of freckles - and said that pissing was weird. Don and I exchanged a wry smile: Don was evidently not in agreement with his nephew. Still, piss was not ordered and an hour was booked. "I can't get them to you before tomorrow afternoon at the earliest," I said, "they have other engagements and even 15-year-olds need a few hours to replenish their supplies." "Will 4 o'clock be possible?" asked Don. I said it would be perfect and explained about the Passports. He was a bit reluctant, no doubt because Micky wasn't his nephew at all, but when I said that the temporary surrender of Passports was a condition he produced them and gave them to me, together with $140. "They'll be here at 4 tomorrow ready for whatever the two of you want. You'll enjoy being fucked by them, Micky, I promise." Micky grinned and wrinkled his sexy nose again. "They love licking boys' arses," I whispered to him as I left. I imagined Micky fantasising about this weird prospect - unless Don routinely rimmed him, of course. We'd find out soon enough. I reported all this as we ate together. Bookings were coming thick and fast (as were we for the most part). Tim and I would pass a perfumed night with Gilbert and Hugh. Tomorrow I'd be on parade again with Dexter, my purty ass being under threat; Arthur would be supping at the hands (well, not exactly) of Graham and Javid; Graham would be ready for more with Nigel when they visited Don and Micky. The following night Javid and Ethan would renew their happy couplings, as would George and Marcus, but not until George had been the last of the new vintage to be sampled by Arthur. Tim would provide Arthur's afternoon top-up. Only Vincent had nothing on the horizon, but I didn't expect him to go without business that long. Tim and I got up to go. "Time to prepare for work," he said, "it never stops." "Do you realize this is our first identical twins duo for well over a year?" I said. He laughed. The last time had been very memorable and had involved considerable feats of contortion. We were younger then, of course. =============================================================================== The fun will continue in Chapter 88. Tim and I are entertained by Gilbert and Hugh. The photographs in Queen Mary 2 are real. I saw them while making a transatlantic crossing last year, 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. ===============================================================================