Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys 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. fty/donate.html =============================================================================== Sorry about the “Peter” in the last chapter. What with I(3) being Patrick and I(2) being Peter an old man gets confused sometimes. Must have it out with the proof-reader. =============================================================================== Chapter 66 We went on board to find immediate changes. All the corridors now had handrails fitted, as had many of the public spaces. When we looked more carefully we saw that heavy moveable furniture – tables, serving areas, even the pianos – had been bolted down. A lot of the public rooms had been redecorated where there had been damage in the storm. We went down to ‘our’ part of the ship, and were relieved to find that nothing seemed to have been changed. The cabins were as we had left them (although the beds were now separated again: we put that right immediately). There was a note in each cabin. They all read ‘Meet in my office at 1700; J.C.’. So Sir was back! We hadn’t eaten, so the first port of call after dumping our kit was the canteen. The galley crew had been quick to resume duties, and Ryan came out to the servery. “All set, boys?” he said. We assured him that all was well, and that we’d know more after meeting Sir that afternoon. Going round the ship that afternoon was a bit like the first day back at school after the summer holidays – what had changed? where were things no longer in their familiar place? Given our intimate knowledge of her layout, however, and the test that Sir had set us half a lifetime (or so it seemed) ago, by 1700 we felt we were fully re-oriented. I knocked, as I had done so often before. “Come.” We found Sir sitting behind his desk, a stout stick propped beside him. “How are you, Sir?” asked Sam. “I’m fine, as you can see. I no longer need crutches and although I can’t walk as well as I could I should be back to normal in another 6 weeks, or so they tell me. How about you – were you well looked after?” Before we’d gone in we’d had a discussion in our cabin about how much detail we should share with Sir. The As were all for keeping it to a minimum, but Tim and I argued for more disclosure. Tim pointed out that Sir had only to ask Phil, Larry or Ryan, and when he learned that we’d kept things from him he might not be too pleased. “Remember that we’ve never had secrets from Sir,” he said, “and without being in his good books none of us would be doing what we do.” Sam and Charlie agreed, and the As reluctantly came into line. I answered by telling Sir that we had been made to feel very welcome by the people we’d met in Kingston, and that a certain amount of fraternising with the younger locals had taken place. I didn’t quite put it that way, of course. “We met up with a few local boys and cemented international relations.” “What he means is that we fucked them and they fucked us,” added Tim by way of clarification. “Thank you, Tim, I had gathered that from Patrick. Now sit down, all of you.” Sir explained what would be happening. Today was Tuesday. The refurbishment still had a few days to go as priority had been given to the public spaces. Many staterooms still needed work. The plan was that passengers would join the ship on the following Monday from midday and we would sail at 1600. “And then it’s back to business as usual. Nothing changes – I take it you’re all happy with that?” Six boys nodded. “Good. Until then you’re free from your normal duties. However Phil and I have been discussing possible training. He’s told me about what he and the other men taught you at Ashokan, and I would like to build on those skills on board. I would like Charlie to spend time in the galley between now and 1200 on Monday. You will ataköy escort learn a great deal about preparation and cooking. Sam has shown some interest in navigation, and I have arranged for you to receive some basic instruction while we remain in port. Tim will go to the engine room to see whether being a ship’s engineer is an attractive prospect. You have a way with grease, Tim, I understand. Patrick is already engaged on climbing the management ladder, and I shall continue with your training in that area.” I grinned – this was going to be fun. “Andrew and Alan, I’ve left you two to the end. You seem to be the two all-round fittest of the six of you. I want you to develop that, and you will go to Larry to learn what exercise regime he has planned for you.” This left us all rather stunned. We hadn’t been aware that Phil, Larry and Ryan were going to make reports on what we had got up to in Ashokan. Certainly Sir’s information about what were good at, or at least interested in, was completely accurate. Sir went on. “Charlie, go to the galley at 1800. Tim, go to the engine room at 1800. Both of you will be expected. Do as you’re told. Andrew and Alan, Larry will expect you at the pool at 1900. All of you will meet here, as usual, at 0915 each day, starting on Monday. You four, off you go. Patrick and Sam, stay here.” When the door shut behind them Sir relaxed a bit. “I’m glad there was no objection,” he said, “it would have been awkward if there had been. I’ve had to pull a few strings to make all this happen. The boy ring has worked very successfully, as you all know, but none of you is getting any younger and in a few years time you won’t have, let me put in bluntly, the same pulling power you do now. In 1940 or so you and Tim, Patrick, will be 18, too old to be lift boys, so Cunard will no doubt be recruiting younger lads by then. I assume you will all wish to stay on board, enjoying what we do – not all passengers want boys, remember, some want young men – so you’ll need jobs you can fill.” I saw now what his plan was, and had to applaud his foresight. None of us knew then, of course, that events in 1940 would not be as he had foreseen. “Will will take you under his wing, Sam. You’ll be getting expert teaching, so make the most of it. The opportunities for a qualified navigator are immense. Report to the Bridge at 1800 and Will will be expecting you. You don’t need me of all people to remind you to call him ‘Sir’,” and he smiled. He really was fond of us all. “Off you go, Sam.” “Well, Patrick, it’s now 1725. Ryan will send a Steward to bring a meal for two in here at 1830. Why don’t you tell me all about Ashokan?” ***** On the Saturday the six of us were in the canteen for our midday meal. The ship was by then almost empty of the shore-based tradesmen who were working in the staterooms. Ryan came out looking for us, and sat at the end of our table. He spoke quietly as there were other crew members at another table a few feet away. “We haven’t forgotten your birthday tomorrow,” he said. “By 1500 tomorrow everyone will have left apart from the crew. We’ll have the ship to ourselves for the first time since before the maiden voyage. I’ve talked to the others and the plan is that we will all meet at 1800 in one of the private suites on Deck 9. Phil has agreed that it will be perfect for the passengers by 1000 on Monday, and you lot will have to help if he asks. The party will start on Deck 9 band move to the Pool when it feels right to move.” Tim and I were excited – we weren’t the only ones – and I couldn’t help asking who else would be there. “One for each of you of course. Phil, Larry, Will, Gus, Francis and me.” It would be some party, I thought. After a very brief discussion when Ryan had gone back to the galley we all agreed to be celibate for the 30 or so hours until the party was under way, so that Saturday night was the first I could remember for a long time when Charlie and I just went to bed with nothing more than a kiss and a cuddle. The morning was a bigger temptation, but we manfully resisted. Over breakfast we all exchanged news of our unaccustomed chastity. “We’ll all be coming like fucking Niagara,” said Tim happily. merter escort “No,” said Sam, “if it’s like Niagara we’ll be jizzing, surely.” That set the mood for the morning. Most of the other crew, certainly those eating nearby, seemed to accept the physical contact that the bell boys had with each other. I had noticed quite a few of them smiling, doubtless because they were in a similar boat. It was good to be home again. At 1700 we all showered in readiness for the expected fun. Since joining the ship we’d been wearing casual clothes, but we agreed we would all wear our uniforms for the party – jackets and trousers only, of course (well, with socks and shoes). “Caps?” said Charlie, who always wore his at a jaunty angle. “Yeah, let’s do it properly,” said Alan, slipping unaware into his role as senior bell boy, if only as Sir’s first recruit. Thus it was that six smartly turned-out boys arrived on Deck 9. There to greet us was Phil, also dressed formally (so we got that right, thankfully), with Gus alongside. “Good evening gentlemen,” said Phil, “and that’s the end of the formality. Come on,” and he led us to 902 – the scene of our session with Bertie and his father James. “Happy memories,” I said to Phil. He grinned. Inside were Will, Larry and Francis. “Many happy returns, you two,” said Will, giving us each a glass of champagne. Phil passed glasses round the rest of us. “I want to drink a toast,” he said, “to all of us in our little groups, to James Corrigan, to all the passengers we haven’t yet met, to Andrew and Alan, to Sam and Tim, to Charlie and Patrick. May our enterprise thrive.” We solemnly raised our glasses. I hadn’t drunk a toast before. I was too inexperienced to know that I should have made some kind of reply: the party was in Tim’s and my honour, after all. All I said was “thank you, Phil – thank you, all of you. It’s good to be back.” That seemed to satisfy everybody. Francis came forward and took Tim by the hand. “Come on,” he said, “work’s over for the day, come and sit with me.” That was the signal for the other men to claim a boy. Phil took Andrew, Gus took Alan, Larry took me and Will took Sam. Charlie was left for the few seconds before the door opened and Ryan came in with one of his colleagues wheeling two trolleys. “You weren’t thinking you’d be left out, Charlie,” he said. He and the other guy put the food onto the large dining table at which James and Bertie had entertained us months earlier. When it was all laid out Ryan turned to his colleague. “Thanks, Johnny, I’ll deal with the rest of it. You needn’t come back.” Johnny smiled a complicit sort of smile and turned to go. “Happy birthday,” he said, and went. “How much does he know?” asked Will. “Nothing, beyond that this is a private party. What he guesses is up to him, but we’re all in uniform, so he got no hint that anything unusual might be happening.” “Is he queer, do you think?” Will went on. “Probably,” said Ryan, “but I don’t know. I haven’t hinted at anything, but look at him. With eyelashes like that on a neat little 19-year-old what do you think?” It seemed an interesting prospect, and one which Charlie would be well placed to discover during his brief time behind the baize doors. Ryan took Charlie’s hand and led him to the table, joined by the others. We were seated as couples. I took my cap off saying it was uncomfortable to eat with it on. The others did the same, all caps being thrown across the room. “I imagine you’ll be removing other things as well,” said Phil quietly. “Sure thing,” I said, still annoyingly using the local idiom, “but fewer than you expect.” It took Phil about four seconds to work that out. “Ah,” was all he said, then he whispered in my ear. “Snap.” This was going to be a memorable party. The food was not what a 15-year-old’s birthday party in Liverpool would have been like in 1936, nor in 1996, come to that. Like it or not we had begun to acquire sophisticated, or at least grown-up, tastes. The meal was as unlike a birthday tea as you could imagine. The rest of the champagne went well with the salmon, to be followed by what Ryan told us was ‘a particularly good claret’ with a beautiful steak. Our normal diet, bahçeşehir escort although wonderful by the standards of the life all of us boys had come from, wasn’t up to these standards. A big cheese board appeared. We weren’t used to cheese in this way – it wasn’t part of the canteen regime, but Ryan explained that since there was still plenty of claret it had to be cheese. “Claret is not nice with sweet stuff,” he advised us. Gradually our palates were being educated. Years later Charlie would remind me of this evening. When all was done six boys were full of food and comfortably relaxed with at least three glasses inside us. Will announced that that had been a splendid feat, and that Ryan was to be thanked. Applause broke out. “I know that there will be a second phase to the birthday celebrations,” he said, “but I for one won’t be ready for any energetic behaviour for a couple of hours. Why don’t you Ashokan types tell the rest of us what you got up to?” Phil laughed, “we’ll be here till the middle of next week.” “Well, just give us enough to whet our appetites,” said Francis, who until then had said very little. Ryan said, “before we start, there’s the little matters of presents for our birthday boys.” This was a big surprise – Tim and I looked at each other. Surely the meal was the present? Phil got up and fetched two small parcels, giving one to each of us. “We discussed what to get you, and we thought something useful to your work would be best. It was Mr Corrigan’s idea.” Tim and I unwrapped the parcels to find two beautiful leather posing thongs, but posing thongs with a difference. As well as suede pouches at the front each one had a leather butt plug in just the right place. The dimensions were just perfect. “Where on earth did you find this?” asked Tim, “it’s just what I wanted.” Laughter drowned any reply, and to this day I have no idea where they came from; indeed I’ve never seen anything like it in any of the many emporia Charlie and I have visited. Plenty of pouches, but none of suede with a leather butt plug built in. We left the table and gathered on the many settees, still in couples, man and boy. Gradually the various adventures at Ashokan were described – Jakey and Esau, the crocodiles, Cy, Abe and eventually Harry. Gus was fascinated by the easy way in which we seemed to acquire other queer boys. “Don’t you worry that you might try to pick up the wrong type, the violent type who might beat you up?” I had to confess that it hadn’t seemed to be a problem. Maybe my sensitivity was highly tuned; maybe I was just lucky – after all, the only violence any of us had met was by Alan, and that had been at the hands of clients. “Are you going to try them on?” asked Phil, “they’re for wearing, not for admiring.” Tim hoped that they would be admired even more when we were inside them. “And them inside you,” said Alan. As each bell boy had one of the men who seemed to have adopted him, at least for the next part of the party games, it was clear that we boys were going to be the recipients of whatever the men wanted to do with, to, in, or on us. If we were to be sex objects then we might as well pay at being lascivious seducees. I reached up to Phil’s face and stroked his cheek. “Help me try this thing on,” I said, “I don’t think I can manage by myself.” Larry made me stand in front of him and started to undo my fly buttons. “Oho! commando,” he said, “are you all like that today?” “Why not find out?” said Sam. Will obliged, announcing a few seconds later that his one was. Two minutes later all twelve of us had stripped, or been stripped. Tim and I were standing with our legs apart, making it easy for Larry and Francis to ease the butt plugs into our pre-greased arses. (We had guessed that such a precaution might be useful once the party got under way.) Once we were comfortable we each wiggled our fetching bodies, to the delight of all. Larry and Francis pulled the two of us onto one of the beds. “You don’t get fucked for a while,” whispered Larry, “we want those butt plugs in there for some time.” =============================================================================== The fun will continue in Chapter 67 as the party continues. 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 net – that is after you’ve dropped a few quid. ===============================================================================

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