Date: Mon, 12 Mar 2018 00:55:24 +0000 From: revjpgibson@hotmail.com Subject: Men and Boys of the Jupiter chapter 1 MEN AND BOYS OF THE JUPITER By Rev Jesse Penfield Gibson, MDiv, DMin DISCLAIMER: This work is fiction. No actual pirates were harmed. The story involves consensual sex between men, between men and boys, and between boys. If this offends you, please do not read the story. If not, enjoy. AUTHOR'S NOTE: this story is set at the very end of Queen Anne's War (also known as the War of Spainish SUccession in Europe), which lasted from 1702 to 1714. The period after the war up until the early 1720's were the Golden Age of Piracy. Complaints, compliments and comments to revjpgibson@hotmail.com Please consider donating to Nifty. I have and you should too. It takes money to run the archive and these stories would have trouble finding another home. CHAPTER ONE CARLOS GONZALEZ Y ALVAREZ, ORDINARY SEAMAN Beads of sweat rolled off Carlos's lithe body as he lay sleeping on a bench beneath the open windows of the stern cabin but not a hint of fresh wind blew. Despite a great deal of tacking, the Jupiter was barely making a knot in the dead air of the doldrums. Bathed in perspiration, Alexander Irwin sat his chair across the cabin cursing Old Isaac, the sailing master. He was a fool and an old fool at that. But the fancy gentlemen in Belfast had insisted on an experienced hand as master, in case Irwin should die. Irwin laughed inwardly at that. The nervous old woman wouldn't last a day in command of this crew should it have come to that and Irwin was twice the navigator he was. Well, not much longer, Irwin thought, now that peace had broke out. Old Isaac was rapidly coming to the end of his days. The little sloop Jupiter was entirely too small for the both of them. Besides the heat and the monotony of it all, the thing that chafed at Irwin was the time it was taking. He wanted to make Kingston quickly before putting the rest of the plan in motion. Carlos slumbered awake. "How long?" "It's 2 bells in the forenoon. You have hours until your watch. Long enough for you to roger me." Irwin answered. He yawned as he stretched his lean, muscular frame. Then he reached down and scratched the luxurious triangle growth of black pubic hairs. "Again?" he asked. "You're young. You can handle it. I was just thinking that with the war over, we could sail into Havana Harbor and drop you off. Just 3 years late. It was Havana, right?" He'd only been 13 when they pulled him off the Spanish merchantman. "No." Carlos corrected him. "San Agustin, La Florida" "Good God. Why would you want to go there? It's nothing but priests, Indians and runaway slaves. " Irwin spat. Saint Augustine was a wood framed shanty town on the very edge of the Spanish Empire, unsafe and uninviting. "My father is an artilleryman in the Castillo. I was sent out when mi madre died. Now I am here." "And do you want to stay? Or would you prefer starving in Florida?" Alex asked. "They say belowdecks that when you hand in your letter of marque that you are going pirating. That you won't go back to Ulster and be a master's mate again. What I hear is that you probably couldn't get hired anyway, except maybe a slaver, because you are a sodomite." Alexander smiled. "They talk do they? Pretty accurate, I'll grant you. Let's say that I have no interest in becoming respectable. No desire to settle down and raise a family. But you haven't answered my question. Do you want to stay with me?" Carlos looked him in the eye. "Si. I don't want to go to San Agustin or Cuba or even back to Aviles. I think staying here would be better. But I think I am too old to be your cabin boy. You should find another. I can climb to the foretop like a cat. I am a man, not a boy." Irwin smiled and nodded. He knew that Carlos spent few off watch hours alone and that he had been with a dozen or more of the crew. That the boy had needs beyond what one man could fill wasn't surprising or disappointing. He wasn't looking for faithfulness anyway. "I thought I perceived a growth of beard starting. And you are right, a new cabin boy is in order. I'll tend to that in Kingston. Afterwards, though, you'll always be welcome in my bed when you desire. If you desire now, young Carlos, I would be very pleased to suck your dick." Carlos had an impressive tool: long, thick and curved. It was the same almond color as the rest of his skin except for the cherry red tip barely peeking past his foreskin. It was the kind of dick that God gave to lean men to compensate. Three years ago, he had been impressively hung for a 13 year old boy and now had the kind of dick that most men would want for themselves. Some men, like Irwin, wanted it for themselves in a different way. Massaging his pendulous balls, Irwin almost choked taking him deep into this throat. True to form, Carlos quickly stiffened under the oral attention. Irwin's own dick stiffened automatically as he blew the boy. He didn't even need to rub it. Just being sexual with another male made his blood boil. Irwin pushed Carlos down to pubic height as his own tool needed some work. The boy had a well-practiced mouth. He had definitely knelt before men on a regular basis. He knew how to work his tongue and paid special attention to the sensitive tip. Pleasing a man takes skill and work and, like a journeyman proving his mastery of the art, Carlos had applied himself. It seemed as if all the blood in his body was rushing to the fire in his crotch. The roughness of his tongue and the wetness of his mouth was powerful. But he didn't want to blow just yet. There was more that Irwin wanted. Carlos laid back and Irwin straddled him and lowered himself onto the boy's erection. Greased with lard, it slid up Irwin's chute easily. He felt that wonderful sense of fullness. Thick and long, Carlos filled him. He felt paroxysms of delight as the boy's pride massaged his prostate. Irwin's own dick pointed skyward and twitched as he bounced up and down. Then Campbell entered the cabin, barging in without knocking. The sight brought him up short. "Boyo," he nodded at Irwin, "When you're done". Then he undid the buttons on his own fly and took out his own semi-hard manhood. Positioning himself, he let Carlos suck him off as Irwin rode him. Irwin knew it was not the first time that the mouth had been around that particularly organ but it didn't bother him. He and Campbell themselves had spent many times off watch pleasuring each other. Things were the way they were. It only took a few minutes and Irwin was pulling on a pair of trousers, Carlos's semen leaking a little from his arse. "When are you gonna kill old Isaac?" Campbell demanded. "Before we make Kingston, I trust." "We're a week away minimum. Until then I thought an extra watch standing officer wouldn't hurt. But we can do it now if you like." "The crew is restless, Cap'n. They're restless and they're tired of his old woman ways. You kill him or they will. They might not stop at just him." Irwin considered a shirt but decided against it. In his late thirties he had the powerful physique of a man who worked for a living. There might be advantage in showing off his muscles. Besides it was hot. It was only a dozen steps down a narrow passage to the ladder and hatch to the main deck. Irwin jammed a pistol at half cock into his waistband as he vaulted up the steps. In the bright hot sunshine, Isaac stood watch beside the helmsman on the aft quarterdeck. His lickspittle master's mate, Bradford, was skylarking at the quarterdeck rail. Purposefully, Irwin walked neither fast nor slow as he proceeded aft. But the men on deck sensed something was up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a boy scurry down below crying out that the captain was up. Irwin, as he climbed the three steps up onto the quarter deck, saw that Isaac was armed with a pistol and so was Bradford. "Good afternoon, milady." Isaac said with contempt. "I trust you are through with your ablutions at last, milady." Bradford laughed out loud. Irwin stared at Isaac briefly. "Yes, thank you. It was most refreshing." "And your husband was satisfied as well? Or can a captain be wife to a dagoe boy?" Bradford, over by the rail, started to smirk but didn't get very far. A lead .50 calibre ball fired from Irwin's pistol transected his windpipe and severed the main artery in his neck. Blood spurted all around as the master's mate strangled a cry and fell in a lump onto the deck. In one swift motion, Irwin grabbed Isaac's throat with one hand and grabbed for the pistol in the other. Isaac was well over 50 and slower in his reflexes and thus was a moment late in retrieving his pistol. Irwin took it off half cock and let the gun fall to the deck before kicking it away. He would kill Isaac with his bare hands. "You are a sodomite, Alexander Irwin." Isaac sputtered as he tried to get air into his lungs. "It is an abomination, a crime against nature. You will burn in hell after you dance on a hangman's noose. You will burn in hell, I say, a sodomite." "Yes and a murderer too." Irwin said calmly as he backed Isaac up step by step, forcing him backwards by virtue of his superior strength. Isaac stumbled down to the deck and Irwin roughly grabbed him up and drug him to the rail. There he pitched him overboard. Isaac, like almost all seaman, couldn't swim. The crew rushed the quarterdeck to watch him frantically try to stay afloat. They shouted insults as he flailed about. As he went down for the last time, cries of huzza erupted from the crew. Irwin went to the rail of the quarterdeck and waited for the din to die down. "They signed a treaty in Utrecht. The Queen of England is at peace with the King of France and the King of Spain. But Alexander Irwin is not going back to being a master's mate on an Indiaman. Because I would just as soon live off the fat of the English and Dutch as the French and Spanish. It's all the same to me. I'm not going to live under the tyranny of the likes of old Isaac or his ilk again. If you come with me, we can be master's of our own fate and not the playthings of kings and lords. We will live our lives as we see fit." One by one the 47 men aboard the Jupiter came into the cabin and made his mark on an agreement and swore an oath on crossed pistols. Irwin knew they would. None of them, save perhaps the carpenter and the gunner, had any real prospects except drudgery in the merchant fleet or regular floggings in the navy. Of course, the carpenter and gunner wouldn't be allowed to leave anyway. Jupiter would not be the most feared ship on the Spanish Main. But she was a fine ship, a Bermuda Sloop of 10 guns. Able to sail close to the wind, she could outrun anything that would be a danger to her. With skill and cunning, she would do well enough against poorly armed merchantman. Of course, her crew was a collection of murderers, thieves and misfits, prone to drink and hard to discipline. But they would fight, Irwin knew that. Of course, as seaman they had spent long months and years on board ship without women and were accustomed to men doing what they needed to do. Plus, Irwin had been careful with the selection of his prize crews over the last few months. The ones who wouldn't turn pirate were sent off. The ones that objected to the licentiousness of the crew were sent off. The devout, patriotic and law abiding were sent off. The rest that remained were loyal and like-minded. A few, perhaps more, would wet his short arm in a women's cunt on land but none felt deeply the deprivation of it on ship, and some, or even more than some, not even that. Of course, on Jupiter, there need be no furtive encounters in the hold to carry a man on. What needed to be done could be done openly. Once you've killed for no good reason and taken what doesn't belong to you, walking away from all society's rules is but a short step.