Date: Sun, 8 Apr 2018 23:53:58 +0000 From: revjpgibson@hotmail.com Subject: The Jupiter chapter 6 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. SIX James Campbell, Quartermaster "We need to beach her and scrape down the keel" Irwin said. Campbell was on the quarterdeck with him. It was cool, late autumn day, crystal clear. He looked out over the ocean and thought about. "Boyo, that's a bit of business there" "We are 2 or 3 knots slower than we should be in all winds, even a gale. That keel is covered, I promise you" "It's a hard job" Campbell said. "But has to be done" Irwin said. Technically, Campbell could overrule him. In the roving life, the Quartermaster had as much say as the Captain, except in battle. Then the Captain reighed supreme. But Cmapbell knew that Irwin was seaman enough and knew the trade and he knew that Irwin was right. Plus, it was easy to follow Irwin and dangerous not to. Campbell, his closest friend, knew that. "If you can beach here, we can haul her up on the beach and then have a blow. One good night and then 3 or 4 days of back breaking toil and we can be underway again" They consulted with Cadogan, the master, decided on one of the islands between the British settlements around Charles Town and the Spanish at San Agustin. They would beach her at high tide, crews pulling her in by boat and then waiting for the tide to go. Then they would set to work scrapping. The rum was hoisted out and freely shared around with the crew around a fire up the beach from the ship. The black boy Antoine and Gabriel, the two saucy boys, danced about with mop heads aloft, imitating a fancy woman as the crew roared and shouted obscenities. Before the night was over, both would be bent over a butt taking a rogering from one and all. Irwin was lenient about it, believing a pair of saucy boys good for morale. Eventually, even Campbell's particular boy, Leon, joined in the dancing with Irwin's cabin boy, Malcolm. Like Gabriel and ANtoine, they did their dancing naked. It was back breaking work and it in the hot, humid sun, even the hardened seaman were feeling the effects. Campbell also had a crew going inland in search of water to refill the water casks. They were armed, of course. The Gaule Indians about locally were not particularly fierce but were skilled at playing Spanish against English. Eventually a crew came back to report that sweet water was to be had but it was miles inland. "It is a fair bit of bother" Campbell said to Irwin Irwin looked across the flat wet marsh. "Aye but it needs doing" And Campbell knew that was the rub. It did need doing. Campbell stayed behind and supervised the cleaning of the hull and building sleds to haul the heavy water casks when the time came. Irwin went off with Bradford, the gunner, to visit with the sachem of the local tribe. Some cutlasses, some tobacco and some rum would be enough to buy them off to not attack, especially not for sweet water. When Irwin returned, a treaty had been made and Campbell could go on to collect up the water. They dragged a pair of sleds through the woods of live oak, heavy with Spanish moss, and scrub pine above and palmetto below. As they pulled. Campbell fancied he heard rustling in the underbrush. He dismissed it, though, as squirrels or even a snake. They gathered up the first two and made it back, again movement off to one side, more regular than a snake. It seemed purposeful, like a change in position to follow them. It was there when they went with the next two. On the way back, Campbell signaled to the others to continue on as before. As they drug the sleds down the path they had created, Campbell, armed with two pistols, swung wide on a defilade to get behind whoever it was making the movement. It was a boy. An indian boy dressed only in a loin cloth. He was startled as Campbell burst from the undergrowth. He stood terrified as Campbell came up short. The boy was unarmed and Campbell relaxed. The boy relaxed. He reached down and pushed aside the loin cloth, uncovering himself. The boy was young but not that young. He was lean but thin armed and thin chested but Campbell could see he felt the fire like the rest and had a member like a long 9 pounder gun, nestled in a small forest of black hair against skin the color of butcher paper. "Mocama" the boy pats himself on the chest. "That your name, boyo? Mocama?" Campbell said. "Mocama" the boy repeated. "Come along, Mocama. Can't have you spying us out. We'll see what Irwin says" He grabbed the boy and pushed him toward the camp. They caught up to the sleds easily and the seaman, doing unaccustomed land duty, made cat calls and lewd remarks as the boy walked lightly along with them. Once at the beach, the Jupiter still heaved over, Irwin saw the native boy. "What the bloody hell, Campbell? You took a youth? Bollocks." Irwin said in a near shout. "He was spying on us" "Only four casks, not even a fortnight of water. And it is too far inland to gaurd." "I think he wanted to come" Campbell said, feeling apologetic. Clearly Irwin thought it a major problem "Bollocks" He took Mocama from him and gathered up Bradford, the gunner to go with him, returning the boy to the tribe. Before they could, a group of Indians stepped out from the tree line, all naked from the waist up. Bradford was the intrepreter, translating English into some language Campbell didn't know and then one of the Indians translated that into their own language for the benefit of the chief. There was a bit of this round robin when the chief held up his hand to stop it. He made his proncouncement and it came around to Bradford. "He says the boy is neither man nor woman. If he chose to come here and chooses to stay tonight then he is responsible for himself. But we can't take him from here." With the peace preserved, they went and got the rest of the water butts filled with sweet water. Crews in boats and tow ropes manhandled the Jupiter back just far enough that high tide would refloat her. It did but a lee shore is a lee shore and the men had to make more hard pulls to slowly warp her out to deeper water. it was night before Irwin set the anchor. Feeling secure in a sheltered inlet, they repaired ashore for one last shorebound rum fueled frenzy. Mocama was there, bare arsed naked, dancing around the fire as the men called out obscenities to him. The black boy, Antoine, who had fled the service of threadbare grandee, got up and danced with him, also naked. Campbell sat there in the sand with Leon between his legs, watching it, pulling back some rum too. Mocama dances over to Campbell and stays there, swaying his hips and thrusting them. He reaches down and strokes his short arm to make it grow as he dances closer in between Campbell's feet. "He wants you to roger him" Leon said, turning half around. "Maybe he wants you to" Campbell put his hands on Leon's tackle. "It's you" Leon said as he struggles out of Campbell's lap Mocama danced up in between Campbell's legs and then planted his feet on either side of Campbell's arse. The white man leaned forward to take it in his mouth but Mocama pushed him back gently. "He wants to be rogered" Leon said. It was a minor matter to raise the mast. After all, the boy in front of him was enough to make the juices flow and Campbell wanted to ravish him. The other men were cat calling and jeering, figuring they might have a turn at it once Campbell was done. Now rigid, Mocama eased himself onto it. All the way. His weight was resting on Campbell's lap. It went in easily, not as tight as a virgin boy and Campbell guessed that the young men of the tribe had their way with him from time to time. He leaned forward and began to rock. Leon had his hand in his slop pants, rubbing himself, as the Indian boy rode Campbell. The Scotsman for his part, ran his hand along the lean brown torso, feeling the hardness of his body. Mocama had his knees on the ground and began to ride Campbell's mast up and down. He was hard as he did it, his own mast slapping against Campbell's hard and corrugated midship with each bounce. Campbell smiled. He thought the flopping cock a nice touch. Leon, too, although young, had needs to and his tool came out of his pants, the waistband of which was tucked underneath his generous balls. He siddled up close to Mocama, who regarded another member to be fine. He beckoned Leon closer and took him in his mouth. The Indian had opened the flood gates. Sailors crowded around to watch, mostly wanting their turn too. Dicks came out and pants were thrown aside. Mates paired off and began they're tender ablutions but the lustier sorts wanted the boy. They stroked themselves hard as Campbell and Leon drove themselves into him, one in the mouth and the other in the arse. "You fuck him man" said Skinner, one of the seaman. "Then we'll wear him out" The crew responded in a lusty shout. But Campbell had nothing to do but lay back and let the boy do the work. And he did work. He wanted it inside of him. He rocked and rode him, wiggling around, getting the full benefit of it, even as he sucked on Leon's cock like a calf on a teat. And remained erect even as he did it. Campbell threw him off. He wanted the arse and wanted it desperately but passivity wasn't what he desired any longer. The boy needed violating and Campbell wanted to be a man. He threw him to the soft sand and turned him over, Leon scurrying about. A couple of the sailors shoveled sand underneath Mocama to get his arse in the air and Campbell straddled him, driving himself into it. All the way in, reaching down and stroking the fine piece of wood carried between his legs. Mocama cooed, moaning in sheer delight at being dominated. Leon hung back, hungrily waiting. "Come take him" Campbell said, beckoning Leon over. Pulling out, he let Leon in, seeing his firm butt squeeze tight as he forced himself into Mocama, the young, lean muscles defined. THen his arse, round and developed, relaxed and Campbell got up next to him, bent a little at the knees and drove himself into Leon even as his own boy fucked the other. Leon gasped but kept his stroke, never stopping the ravishing of Mocama. The middle sets the pace. He slides his pole in and slides off the one in him but as he pulls out, he drives it deep. They all are hard. The men around them hard. The watchers stroked themselves as witnesses, calling out obscenities and blasphemies. The participants were feeling the lust, the fire burning. Leon kept it up, driving in and out, harder and harder and with it more and more in himself. He was losing control and Campbell knew it, having read the moods of men now for some years. THe young men, full of fire and emissions of men, want their pleasures and Leon was getting his even as Mocama stroked his and seemed lost in the ecstasy. Campbell knew he was close too. A powerful urge overcame him and he shoved his rod deep into Leon and unloaded it there, spent and fulfilled. He pulled away and let his young mate fully lose his lust in the native's ass. Leon did him hard, both of them sweating but Mocama stayed hard as he violated. When Leon was spent, there was another man ready to take his place. Sometime after the last man had his fill in the flicker light of the flame of the bonfire, Mocama slipped away into the woods, back to his people. The people of the Jupiter pulled their oars in the morning light and the ship weighed anchor and slipped out of the inlet, off to plunder more.