The Able Seaman Mm/size Matters

Badunkbadonk

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Reception was warm for my previous stories. This is a full-length novel about Paxton, a young man who signs up for the Merchant Marine and spends most of his time "in the barrel". The main theme is, as always, a man with very little downstairs who attracts the attention of the big boys. Enjoy! I will add this in installments.


The Able Seaman


Button Boy
Paxton Smalls grew up in New Orleans. As a youngster, he spent a good deal of his time at the waterfront. His favorite pastime was riding the free Ferry Boat to Algiers and back. The hustle and bustle of the mercantile trade excited him. He counted and classified boats to while away the time until his mother was finished with one of his many uncles. It was on the waterfront that he fell in love. His first love was the Mississippi River, then came the Gulf of Mexico, and then every sea and ocean he could dream of. Paxton wanted to be a sailor.

Due to the nature of his mother’s line of business, Paxton never met his daddy, and never would. His mother told him that he was dashingly handsome, but was never going to marry a girl. “It was one in a thousand he would ever put her in a family way. It just wasn’t physically possible. I was just lucky, I guess.” Paxton didn’t know what this meant until senior year when he joined the varsity football team and had to take showers with his classmates for the first time.

Until Paxton’s first locker room shower, he had no idea anything was amiss down there. He sat down to pee. He never worried about it.. But the other seniors saw his little problem right away. In a moment of horror, he discovered that he had only the tiniest fraction of what the other guys had. He ran from the showers, not even waiting for a towel, the whole room filled with taunts and jeers. He dressed in a bathroom stall, sniffing back tears. The names rang in his ears: Teeny Peenie, Inchworm, Button Boy...the names stung.

Paxton went home to tell his mother about his deformity, but she had an uncle in the room. He had to go cry at the waterfront. He was ashamed and angry. He would never be a normal man. He drowned in shame, deciding never to discuss it with his mother. He was dying to ask how his dad got her pregnant, so he could do the same, but the shame and self loathing were far more powerful than his curiosity. He wondered why she would choose a man who so obviously shouldn’t be making babies as the one to father her child. But she had hinted it was a work-related accident and not by choice.

Paxton sought refuge in the comfort of the waterfront. Longshoremen and sailors took his mind off his shame, but the sadness returned in waves.

With his head between his knees, Paxton’s tears hit the planks and tumble into the Mississippi. When he looked up, he saw a dozen sailors walking in a huddle. He was in their path. When he scrambled to his feet, he hit an oil slick. He fell hard, legs in the air. A young sailor who smelled like rum and cigars caught his arm and helped him to his feet. Paxton noticed the man wore a green carnation tattoo on his wrist. The other sailors whistled and made catcalls.

“Why they shoutin’ like that?”, he asked.

The sailor grinned. “You never put your legs in the air around merchant marines. Go on, jailbait. We’ll just watch you to make sure you can walk okay.” More whistles. Paxton was confused. In school, he only ever heard guys make that sound to flirt with pretty girls. He whirled around.

“I ain’t no pretty girl!” He shouted at the whole dozen.

A sailor cried out, “Any port in a storm!” The words were mean, but his smile was genuine. They meant him no harm.

It was shaping up to be the worst day of his life. The man with the green carnation came close. He wasn’t drunk - that rum smell was spice cologne. He lifted Paxton’s chin and their eyes met. Paxton saw the whole ocean was in those blue eyes. He was overcome with a strange desire that drew his eyes downward to below the sailor’s belt. He was sure the serpentine bulge was a trick of the fabric. Nobody was that size down there. He lifted his eyes again.

“Kid, don’t let them bother you none. We just know when we see one of our own.”

“A sailor?” Paxton was excited.

The man nodded. “Yeah, that’s it, a sailor.” He chuckled. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Paxton, sir.”

“Paxton, when you’re ready to join the fleet of merchant marines, we’ll welcome you with open arms.”

The boy gave the sailor a big hug, which brought on more jeers and catcalls. Paxton didn’t care. He was in love with the sea. He felt movement in the man’s pants, like he had a live boa in there. He stole a second glance and gasped. He touched it briefly and drew in his breath. “Is that…?”

The man lowered his head and grinned. “That’s my Albatross.” Paxton swooned. He had almost nothing, and this sailor had the share of three men or more. The heavily gifted sailor patted the boy’s bottom and sent him on his way. The touch of his hand was gentle but firm. It made Paxton yearn to be on the open sea with these rough sailors.

Paxton was angry at God that he could play such cruel tricks with men’s anatomy, giving so little to some, and too much to others. He let it go. He was in the clouds and didn’t know exactly why.

It was the worst day turned into the best. And not one but twelve sailors called him one of their own. He whistled as he walked home, oblivious to the heads that turned as he passed.

Paxton had another six months of school left. Impatient, he stopped into the US Merchant Marine recruiting office. Dick Williams, the officer in charge, gave the boy a great big smile.

“Paxton,” he said, “you signing up?”

Paxton had seen Dick for most of his life. He often rode the ferry to Algiers. Paxton knew just about everybody on that ferry.

“Yes, sir.”

“No need for sir. You know me.”

“Yes, Mr. Williams.”

The recruiter looked him up and down. “How old are you? Fifteen?”

“No sir, I’m eighteen. Gonna graduate in six months.”

“Well, we can take you right now, but hadn’t you oughta get your diploma first?”

Paxton thought about it. “I guess so.”

“Of course so. You’ll have a lot more freedom to forge your path in life with that diploma. What if the Merchant Marines don’t suit you?”

“But sir, I know I’m a sailor.”

“I’ve known you for years, kid. I’m not going to have your mother come after me with a billy club for yanking you out of high school. Hold on and be patient. Besides, if you ever want to hold a rank, you’ll need that diploma so you can go to the academy.”

Paxton agreed. Mr. Wilson watched the boy’s plump bottom wiggle as he walked out of the recruitment center. He blew a long wolf whistle once the kid was out of earshot. He muttered to himself, “He’s gonna be real busy on that boat.”

Paxton spent the remaining months until graduation studying textbooks about sailing, flags, maritime laws, terminology, and anything else he could find. He let his mother know about the plans; she was upset for herself, but happy he had found his calling. “Not every man figures out who he’s gonna be. You can see those lost souls on Poydras Street, sleeping against the sides of the buildings. If you choose a life at sea, I pray you will never be amongst them.”

“Thanks, Ma.” He kissed her cheek.

She struggled with the next bit. “Honey, you don’t know it yet, but you’re special.”

“Special? How so?”

She studied her nails. “Your daddy, he came to me because he was afraid he couldn’t please a lady or have children. It turned out he didn’t want a baby, and a lady couldn’t please him none either. He wasn’t the marrying kind. I got a hunch you’re like your daddy; you’re not going to be happy with a lady.”

Paxton frowned. “I don’t follow you.” Did having a baby matter? He wasn’t sure he wanted one.

She smiled. “You’ll figure it out on the open seas. The thing is, you need to know that I love you no matter who you become. So be who you are. Please just remember that. Don’t fear me none, I love you.”

Paxton was deeply confused. He had no idea what she was trying to tell him. He found out soon enough.
 

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and, because the sex starts in the second chapter, here's one more tonight:

Off to Sea

The day after graduation, Dick Williams gave Paxton his uniform and dungarees wrapped in blue laundry paper tied with string. It was starched until it was board stiff. With his life’s possessions in a duffel bag, he climbed the gangway of the tramp ship MV Southern Cross. He made his way downstairs to the mariner’s quarters. Because he was new, he was all the way at the bottom of the boat. He counted room numbers as he walked down the passageway. Like a Hollywood musical, sailors poked their heads out of the open doors as he walked by. Paxton held out hope that one of those heads belonged to the man with the ocean in his eyes, the green carnation on his wrist, and the snake in his pants. He was too innocent still to recognize that yearning. All he knew was that he longed for that firm but gentle hand on his backside again. He mistook the longing as a desire to be friends. It was more.

Every head that popped out belonged to a handsome sailor, but none of them were that blue eyed sailor who had been so kind to him. Of course, in a sea afloat with a thousand ships, the odds were small that he would be aboard. And he wasn’t.

The whistles of appreciation were vexing. Paxton had no clue that what God stole from him in front he bestowed to perfection elsewhere. His face could start wars and his ass was a fistfight. He got his beauty from his mother. But that butt was the most perfect, heart shaped mound of flesh to ever walk the deck of any ship.

He found his room: ST-4. It was cramped. It didn’t help that his bunkmate sat on the top bunk, smoking a cigarette, and glaring at Paxton like he was a dirty floor. Paxton put on his charm and extended his hand. With a smile, he said, “Paxton Smalls, new recruit.”

The sullen roommate reluctantly held out a hand and said “You can call me Brick.”

Paxton appraised his new bunkmate. He had curly, red hair, unkempt. His lip was covered by a thin moustache. He had two dark circles under his eyes, just above his freckled nose and cheeks.

Brick admitted he looked like crap. “I’ve been on this ship too long, Paxton. I’m not much of a welcoming committee.” He cracked a smile that made him a lot younger. “Hey, let me show you around.”

They started with the room. “I’m top bunk, and there is no arguing it. You’re a cadet, so live with it.” Paxton couldn’t see why he should care. The bottom bunk meant he had a smaller distance to fall in a storm, and less hassle to the toilet.

Brick pointed to the desk and rolling chair. “That’s for writing letters home, and blow jobs.” Paxton didn’t remember reading about blow jobs in his textbooks. He figured it was some kind of navigation chart.

“Where’s the toilet?”

“Down the hall. There’s one head for twelve mariners. I would show you, but there’s no need; you can’t miss the smell.”

They ascended the stairs to the non-com deck. This was where the cooks, the engineer and the bo’sun stayed. The mess was on this level. “You only get sandwiches while we’re in port. Once we’re on the open sea, breakfast is at 5:30 am. Lunch is noon. Dinner is at 5:30 pm. You get about 15 minutes to eat, so don’t be late.”

Paxton was taking notes. He dropped his pen. Bending over to pick it up, he caught Brick licking his lips.

“What?” Paxton still had no idea.

“A boy as pretty as you, with an ass like that - you’re going to spend a lot of time in the barrel.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Brick narrowed his eyes. “Let’s go back to the room, where I can explain it in private.”

“But we haven’t seen the officer’s deck.”

“Later.”

Back in the room, Brick was silent. He removed his shirt, then motioned for Paxton to do the same. They took turns until both men were in nothing but their underwear.
“You never done this before, have you?”

Paxton didn’t know what it was, but he was sure he hadn’t. He shook his head.

“You’re in luck. I’m one of the best.” Paxton was indeed lucky; Brick was a smaller than average man below the belt.

Brick had him bend at the waist so he could rest his torso on the desk. The freckled fingers tugged at his underwear. Oh no! He didn’t want Brick to know his horrible secret. But he wouldn’t find out with his face buried in his ass like it was now.

Brick sucked on Paxton’s butthole like it would buy him a drink. The young seaman was initiated into the joys of ass licking. The experienced man used his tongue to dig deep, then flexed it to stretch the boy’s sphincter.

“Oh sweet Jesus!” Paxton pounded on the desk. “It ain’t right something should be this good.” He felt Brick nod even as he buried his nose deeper.

Five minutes more, and Paxton was as slick as an ice highway in July.

Brick pulled back. “That ought to do it.”

Paxton figured things were done. He pulled his pants up.

“Hey now, we’re just getting started.” Brick tugged the boy’s dungarees from his grip and let them fall to his ankles. He saw Paxton’s problematic penis.

“Damn. Most men prefer them small. You’re gonna be a busy sailor.”

Paxton rocked from one foot to the other. “But what about women?”

Brick shrugged. “Women ain’t your concern. Not the way God made you.”

“God fucked me over.”

Brick smiled. “Bend over and I’ll teach you what it means to get fucked over.”

A shiver went through him. He liked when Brick spoke to him like that. He leaned across the desk, sweating with fear and excitement.

It started off fine. It was harder than the tongue, but gentle. Then a blinding pain choked off all other thoughts. “Oh! Shit that hurts!”

Brick backed up an inch. He knew his way through virgin ass. “You need me to stop, or can I keep going?”

Paxton waited, then, “Go on.”

Brick pushed in hard, so his head popped past the tight spot. “Still okay?”

A nod was all he needed. With a fury he pumped his little dick in and out a hundred times a minute. Paxton loved being fucked like a woman. He moaned and spread his cheeks to let Brick in deeper. The slamming continued. Paxton’s legs quivered. He grabbed the edges of the desk to keep from falling. The quivering kept going. It lifted his mind twenty feet above. With his mind’s eye, he could gaze down and see his roommate penetrating him with his little dick. It made the quivering increase.

“You like that, Pax?”

Nothing but a moan in response. Brick lay him on his back in the bottom bunk. From that position, Paxton could shake inside without falling. He watched his redheaded roommate fuck him. How could they both feel so good? Brick’s grin looked just how Paxton felt. He wrapped his legs around his bunk mate and ran his hands across his chest.

Brick skipped a beat every time the boy’s hand grazed his nipples. “Pax, you sly fox, you found my weak spot.”

Paxton held on to both nipples. Brick’s eyes were barely visible. He caressed the plum shaped bottom as he plowed it.

“Shit, I’m gonna come!”

Paxton wondered what that meant.

Brick repeated his warning, then threw his head back. “Aaaaargh!”

The man’s penis pulsed inside the lad’s butthole. Was he peeing? No it was thick. When Brick removed his softening penis, globs of the white goop came with it. They left a puddle on the wool blanket.

“Sorry about that, Pax. You can trade with me.” They swapped blankets. Brick was snoring in minutes, but Paxton’s thoughts were racing. So many comments and hints made sense now. He was built to please a man.
 

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As promised, another installment in this lurid tale of salty sea dogs and trembling youth.

Officer’s Quarters

Paxton had trouble walking that first day at sea. Sharp pains spread where his asshole muscles connected to his legs. Every step was uncomfortable, but he grew used to it. He carried his mop and bucket to the non-com floor. Scrubbing the deck, he attracted the attention of passersby. He heard a wolf whistle and whirled to stare at the Third Officer.

“Sir.” He saluted.

“This ain’t the real Navy, kid. At ease - permanently.”

Paxton smiled. His face could melt butter. “Yes, sir. What brings you below?”

“After seeing your ass, I plum forgot.”

A new sensation washed over him, like a wave of hunger. He craved that quivering again. He studied the Third Officer’s body. He was older, maybe 30 years old. He was over six feet tall. His uniform strained to hold in his muscles. His biceps had worn out the seams on the cuffs of his short sleeved shirt. His chest threatened to pop a button at any moment. Paxton stole a glance below, and saw a big lump between those meaty thighs.

“Sir. You’re so big.”

The officer grabbed between his legs and grinned.

“Big all over. Name’s Rocky. You must be Paxton.”

Instead of shaking his hand, Rocky put his arm around the boy. “I’ll bet you’d like to see how the officers live.”

Paxton nodded.

Rocky had no roommate. Officers got their own bunk to themselves. There was a tiny cabinet in the corner labeled “Toilet.” He had a sink to wash his face.

“Only the captain gets his own shower. I still have to bathe with the rest of you. Not that I mind. I like the camaraderie.”

“I prefer to shower alone.” Paxton said.

“There’s only a dozen of us, so I’m sure you can find -- I’m wasting time.” He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a tight undershirt that accentuated his nipples atop his massive chest. When he pulled off his white trousers, Paxton gasped. Rocky didn’t wear underwear. He had a man-sized cock. Much bigger than anything Paxton had seen. It was slowly unsticking itself from the side of his leg until it dropped in front. It pulsed as it grew bigger and lifted off his balls.

“Come on, don’t leave me hanging!”

Paxton blushed with shame. When he finally shucked his boxer shorts, Rocky saw his insignificant endowment. “You’re a real pleaser. I love it.”

“How can I please anyone with this?” He gestured towards his worthless appendage.

“You can’t. It’s your ass. You were designed for men like us.” He grabbed his swollen cock. “It’s our job to give you as much pleasure as we take from you, or more. Just like we do with a woman.”

Big tears filled Paxton’s eyes. He said, “I’m not a woman.”

“Hey, Hey. What’s this?” The Third Officer held Paxton close. Paxton was safe nestled between Rocky’s enormous pectoral muscles. “Sit here.” He made a thick chair out of his furry thigh. Paxton held on to Rocky. He smelled of cologne and the sea. His burly arms held him tight. He had never known a father’s embrace, but he knew this was it.

There was brisk knock at the door. "Captain called an all hands meeting at 1300 hours. You got 30 minutes.”

Paxton sniffled. “I guess I had better go.”

“Oh come on, I can get you begging for more in ten minutes.”

He carried the boy to his bed. With his legs aloft, Paxton could see Rocky aim his big dick at his sore ass.

“Here.” Rocky handed him a tiny tube of glass covered in canvas webbing. “Break this and inhale.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a shortcut.”

Paxton broke the vial, and after inhaling the fumes, fell back on the officer’s bunk. Blood pounded in his ears. His heart pounded against his ribs. His vision went blurry. Somewhere very far away, something slippery led to something much too large. There was pain, but the way Rocky’s cock filled him was different than Brick. The big cock was more comfortable, stretching out his sides instead of poking them. He thought of a stuffed turkey.

As Rocky pistoned in and out, he hit a few spots that Brick could not. They made the young sailor’s insides shake.

“Am I too rough?” Rocky’s sweat cascaded onto him.

“Not rough enough, sir.”

Rocky doubled the pace. He fucked in long, cruel strokes. Paxton inhaled hard when Rocky pressed up against a spot about five inches deep, and it made the trembling triple. He looked down, shocked to see his tiny penis drooling a clear mucus. Rocky caught the juice in his palm and ate it.

“The fountain of youth.” Rocky spoke between heavy breaths. “Here.” He held his cupped palm to Paxton’s mouth and forced him to taste. It was sweet.

“I’m gushing the same stuff inside you right now, son. It’ll put hair on your chest.”

Whatever lubricant Rocky had used, it made the pain bearable. The thought of that big fat cock drooling in his ass made Paxton gush another puddle of sticky liquid.

“You like it, don’t you son?”

Paxton grinned. “Yes, Daddy.”

The word was explosive. Rocky’s muscled ass was a blur as he drove himself deeper, finally hitting a wall. The wall hurt Paxton at first, but it became a source of even more pleasure as the beating continued.

“You like it when Daddy fucks you with his big cock, don’t you?”

Paxton nodded.

“Daddy’s gotta finish.”

The clock showed it was nearly 1300 hours.

Paxton grabbed the nipples nestled in fur atop giant mounds of muscle. He squeezed them gently.

“Harder! Pinch Daddy’s titties hard, son.” Rocky’s dominance was like rum to Paxton. Following orders was so much easier than thinking for himself. He twisted and pinched. Rocky opened his eyes wide.

“I’m gonna come.”

Paxton knew it was time, but he wanted this to last forever. Rocky lifted him at the waist. “Oh son, your ass was made for Daddy’s dick.”

Paxton leaned forward and put Rocky’s left nipple in his mouth. He sucked and chewed like it would give milk.

“Oh shit!” Rocky’s muscular body nearly doubled in size as every muscle flexed. Paxton loved Rocky’s white butt. He pressed on it, encouraging Rocky to stay deep.

“I’m there; I’m there, son.”

“Come in me, Daddy.”

Rocky’s huge balls released a hot thick flood inside Paxton. He squirted much more come than Brick had, and for a lot longer. The muscular officer cradled the boy in his arms for half a minute.

“Bathroom, now! Empty that hole and get on deck, son.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“You say ‘yes sir’ until I tell you otherwise. Now go shit out my cum and get ready.”

Paxton was startled to see his blood mixed in with the tablespoon of Rocky’s semen he expelled.

The whistle blew 1300 hours. Paxton was still buckling his belt when he reached the Officer’s quarters. He thought he heard a few snickers. Rocky had beat him by twenty seconds tops. They were both covered in sweat. The assembled crew were an odd sight. There was Rocky and Brick, of course. But he had not yet met the others. A few were dressed casual. From his reading, he knew this must be the non-coms and the chefs. There were mariners like him. Some were Able Seamen, AS like Brick, with the full uniform. Others like Paxton were OS, Ordinary Seamen in starched dungarees and a denim shirt. Every last one of the crew were rugged, handsome, and cheerful. It was like Paxton wanted to eat a whole box of Nilla Wafers. It was hunger for something other than food. He was waking up to his erotic desires.

The captain was brief. He introduced the newest member of the crew, Paxton, and said their next port of call would be Havana in 48 hours. As a “tramp” steamer, the Southern Cross went wherever demand dictated, often on very short notice.

Paxton returned to the non-coms deck to continue swabbing. It was hard to ignore the way men walking by watched his butt like a wolf watching sheep. Paxton grew up believng he was a real man. This new situation showed him how unlike a man he really was. He was a receptacle for other men to use, like a Kleenex. The tears returned, stinging his eyes and making it nearly impossible to do a good job on the deck. His denim shirt was spotty with tears and snot. He was so angry at his mother for giving birth to him with a half-man for a father. He didn’t yet appreciate all the blessings God had bestowed instead. He didn’t know that his ability to take pleasure from anal penetration was rare. He had yet to discover the rarest gift.
D69FAA9B-28AC-430E-BD82-4CF1B3C115AE_1_201_a.jpeg
 

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Thank you. Somebody left 1 star with no review on Smashwords. It’s the only rating so it hurts. I guess my stuff isn’t for everyone!

O Rio
As the ship pulled into Guanabara Bay, Paxton churned with inner conflict. Pain, both physical and emotional, clouded his thoughts. His head throbbed. The captain had nearly split him in two, then tore through his tonsils. It hurt to swallow. His heart fared no better. Brick was leaving him in the hands of the captain, and a stranger was taking his bunk. Even if that stranger turned out to be Brick’s buddy Erasmus, there was a whole layer cake of emotions Paxton couldn’t shake: fear, loss, betrayal, hope and above all - sadness. He was a prisoner in the captain’s cuddy. No, more than a prisoner, a sex slave. Paxton’s tiny member matched the size of his self-esteem. He preferred being paid attention, even if it was for painful sex. He was worthless, and deserved to be fucked bloody every night by the slave master he called captain.

The horn gave one short blast, indicating the ship was changing course to the port side. Paxton stood on his knees to gaze out of the tiny porthole in his sex prison. As the boat came around port side, Paxton marvelled at the city. It made New Orleans look like a ghost town. Rio was composed of thousands of high rise apartment buildings at sea level. They were flanked with colorful gardens and trees bearing flowers in bright colors Paxton had never seen. The hillsides were covered with ramshackle houses. Over the whole city was the shadow of the Natural wonder of Sugarloaf and the man-made beauty of the enormous Christ the Redeemer on Corcovado. He had seen black and white pictures in the atlas. Even back then when they were taken, the city was impressive. Now, ten years later, in vibrant color, it was a kaleidoscope of scenery. New Orleans had a dozen high rises in the Faubourg Ste. Marie. To see thousands in neat rows beside each other was astonishing.

The captain surprised him from behind. He put a meaty paw on Paxton’s rump and squeezed.

“It gets bigger every day.”

Paxton was unsure if he meant Rio or his throbbing cock that strained against his pantleg.

“It’s breathtaking.”

“I’ll tell you what, Paxton. If you promise to keep out of trouble, I’ll let you go exploring. I can’t have a repeat of what happened to you in Fortaleza. But first, I have something that needs your attention.”

Paxton didn’t turn around. He groaned inwardly when he heard the belt loosening and the fly come unbuttoned. The captain’s pants dropped around his ankles, releasing the foot-long summer sausage.

Powerless to prevent what came next, Paxton surrendered. Silently, he lowered his dungarees, exposing his perfect round rump and tiny genitals. The captain buried his face in Paxton’s bumhole, loosening it with his tongue. Paxton moaned with pleasure, despite his misgivings. The captain was an ace in the art of eating ass. Paxton’s legs trembled. The captain held him by the waist and dug his tongue in deep.

“Oh God. Don’t. Stop. Don’t. Stop.” Paxton couldn’t resist the captain’s artful tongue. He was a salt-lick for the horse of a man buried nose deep in his crack. Paxton spread his cheeks, allowing the captain more surface area to work his magic. The older man gently tweaked Paxton’s nipples. The young lad dribbled his clear syrup on the floor. He was no further in his career than his mother. He was a whore. The only way to get through the captain’s frequent penetrations was to surrender completely. The more he focused on the joy of being stuffed beyond capacity with cock, the easier his work became. He knew his mother must do the same.

Behind him, he could hear the captain uncap a tub of Vaseline. The sound he made greasing his bloated cock sounded like a cat lapping up a bowl of milk. The rough fingers pried at his hole. He was stretched and loose from all he had endured on the seas in the past two weeks. His anus no longer puckered. It hung in a wrinkled pout, like a vagina.

He tuned out all pain and inhaled the captain into his hole. In spite of everything, he still loved when the old man fucked him. There were sharp jabs of pain, ripping sensations, things coming loose that shouldn’t; Paxton focused on the fullness and it all quieted. The captain tried hard to be a good lover. He held Paxton by the waist while he destroyed his sphincter, and showered him with kisses. Paxton turned his head to kiss back. The captain believed he was the world’s greatest lover hearing the lad’s cries of “Oh yes! Oh right there!” It was his job now. He’d heard his mother do it a thousand times. It sped things along.

The captain was crotch deep inside Paxton, pounding mercilessly at the rectum wall past which he was too fat and hard to navigate. With blunt force, the officer tore and pounded at his ass, caring very little if it hurt or even killed him. Paxton moaned and shouted false encouragement until, like happens with sex, he believed himself. He talked his way into enjoying this anal pillaging. It was the stuffed sensation, the rhythmic thrusts, and the big smile combined with the beads of sweat falling from the captain’s brow onto Paxton’s back that heralded the stirrings of orgasm in his belly.

He tossed all resentments and fears aside. He focused on making the captain happier and happier. He played with the old man’s teats, pinching the nipples hard. In response, Paxton felt him shudder, sending waves of electric pleasure between them as the rhythm was interrupted by the shaking. He reached back and cupped the captain’s balls, gently squeezing them as if he could wring out come from there. It made the passageway much slipperier as the captain leaked a slick trail of pre-come.

“Oh Paxton, you beautiful boy. I can’t believe how easy it was to break you in.”

Paxton stared out the porthole. He ignored the comparison to a pair of shoes.

He moaned as he uttered a few words. “Ohhh. Fuck. You feel so good inside me.”

It was true, even if Paxton didn’t want it to be. He had brought himself to the precipice of orgasm with lies that became the truth.

“Shit! Oh shit!” Paxton rounded his lips and gave a surprised grunt as his tiny penis shot semen all over the wall in front of him.

“Did I do that? You didn’t even use your hands!” The captain was astonished.

“You fucked it out of me, sir. And it’s coming again.” Another wave of orgasm washed over the boy as he sprayed another heavy load of sperm across the wall.

It must have been a huge turn on for the captain, because he made low grunting sounds, a pig in a trough, and bucked to a completely new beat. He unloaded enough semen to impregnate ten women. His cock grew soft like an elephant’s trunk, then slipped out of Paxton’s loose cunt. Paxton shivered with joy and disgust as he shat out the captain’s bloated tool.

The captain left the cuddy door unlocked. Paxton found an envelope bearing his name; it contained 10 five dollar bills. He ran to his room to see if Brick was there, but someone new was already in the top bunk, with his back to Paxton as he tucked in the sheets.

Before he saw anything else, Paxton saw the green carnation tattooed on his forearm. The new roommate turned to face him. He had the same deep blue eyes he remembered from the wharf that awful wonderful day six months ago. His smile lit up the room.

“You must be Paxton. Brick told me all about you. Hey, I know you! New Orleans.” He remembered Paxton, too.

Paxton blushed. “Uh yeah, I remember.”

“I jacked off for two weeks just picturing your little ass.”

Now Paxton was crimson.

“Oh don’t worry, I won’t try and fuck you. I can’t. It’s not physically possible.” He rubbed the tip of his serpentine cock where it rested just below his knee. “A man can dream, though, right?”

Paxton nodded. He smelled that faint spiced rum cologne and the whole love at first sight sensation came rushing back, making him swoon. He held onto the ladder for support.

“Have you been to Rio before?”

Paxton shook his head. The cat had his tongue for sure.

“Well then, let’s go see the sights, Paxton. Oh, how rude of me. I’m Erasmus.”
 

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Final installment. If you loved this story (or even just liked it) leave a comment about a setting/characters for a story you’d like to read about. Character/Setting examples I’ve used already: Roman Slaves, Rodeo Clowns, World War I, Hollywood in the 1930’s, Coal mines, Rural Montana...you get the idea.

Punta Arenas
The next sixteen hours were a blur for Paxton. He remembered pulling his pants up. Rocky dragged him into a lifeboat with Erasmus and George. In the storm, nothing was visible except a distant light, the Faro de Punta Delgada. Erasmus, George, Rocky and Paxton paddled desperately through the troubled waters until at last they saw a spit of land covered with Penguins. The ship-to-shore radio had alerted the Coast Guard. They were on hand to pull the four men to shore. First, they handed everyone a blanket and a warm brew inside a gourd. They called it "Ma-tay". It warmed his insides and gave him renewed strength. Swaddled in blankets, the shivering sailors boarded a school bus to drive them two hours to the Hospital in Punta Arenas.

According to accounts in the papers, The Southern Cross had struck a rock in the straits between Punta Delgada and Punta Espora. Everyone survived. The captain, however, was unable to explain what had happened, so there were investigations. While Paxton rested in his hospital bed, a doctor came to examine his “culo”. During the investigation, Rocky told the truth, that he found the captain fucking the young sailor when he should have been steering the ship. The doctor’s report confirmed repeated assault with a very large object. The captain’s cock, clearly outlined in his white pants, was the smoking gun that sealed his fate. Paxton was never asked to corroborate the story. It was considered rape by maritime law, and Paxton was a victim, not a criminal. Paxton defended the captain against the rape charges, but he couldn’t deny that their final act of copulation was directly responsible for putting the Southern Cross at the bottom of the Magellan Straits. When Paxton tried to own some of the blame, the captain stopped him.

“You’re OS, son. I’m the ship’s captain. The fault lies with me.

Punta Arenas was quaint. It was the biggest city below the 50th Parallel, yet only about the size of Biloxi. The beaches were dotted with penguins that slipped in and out of the chilly water like it was a hot bath.

Erasmus and Paxton were assigned to the next ship to come into the Magallanes Shipyard. The Lucky 13, bound for Valaparaiso, Costa Rica, Acapulco and San Francisco, was a dirty, run-down vessel, but the crew were welcoming of the stranded sailors. George and Rocky bid the two farewell. They were waiting for a ship headed East, back up the coast and into US Waters. Paxton shed some tears remembering the kindness these two had shown him. They were like older brothers. Rocky said, "We're brothers of the sea. We'll see each other again on one ship or another."

In a surprising turn of events, the sailors were given the First Mate’s room, which had a large double bed.

“Sorry, fellas, we don’t have any bunk beds left. You’ll have to make do.”

And make do they did. Once secured in their room on the Lucky 13, the two men gave off electric sparks. Although the waters had given them a chill, they were quickly heating up. Erasmus locked the door.

Silently, they stripped their clothes. Erasmus let his hardening cock out of its prison. Paxton lay back on the big bed, his legs jutting skyward. He grabbed a bottle of lubricating jelly he lifted from his hospital room. He inserted the nozzle into his anus and squeezed a generous helping. Erasmus spit in his hand several times and slicked up his dong.

“You sure you want this?”

“I can’t get enough.”

Gently at first, then with increasing force, Erasmus dug his way into the warm hole. He made an audible “pop” when the corona snapped past the inner sphincter.

“Oh jeez. Oh man.” Paxton shuddered with ecstasy. It was one thing to have the attention of the sexiest sailor on the seven seas, and quite another to stuff his rectum with the biggest cock on the water.

Paxton’s eyes grew foggy and a tear trickled down his cheek.

“Hey, Pax, are you okay?”

“I dreamed about you from the moment I first saw you in N’Awlins. I didn’t think dreams came true for the son of a hooker.”

“I dreamt about this beauty,” Erasmus pointed to Paxton’s butt. “And now I’m claiming it. The sea brought us together.”

“Speaking of together,” Paxton said, then pulled Erasmus hard to force him into his colon.

Erasmus forgot how good it felt to go all the way. Now his mid-shaft was being massaged by the bend between the rectum and Paxton’s guts. His blue eyes sparkled with delight.

Paxton, overcome with pleasure, rolled his eyes back in his head and lay back on the pillow. Erasmus followed him there, planting his lips on his and kissing him the French way.

Erasmus pushed him onto his side and took him from behind. This gave him the deepest access, filling Paxton with his gargantuan cock.

Like a woman, Paxton began to quake with anal orgasm. His entrails massaged Erasmus in rhythmic waves. Paxton moaned aloud in ecstasy.

Erasmus didn’t need to do anything. The sensation was so powerful, it caused him to come without any effort. Hot semen coated Paxton’s lower digestive tract. It warmed his entrails. The rhythmic spasms of his colon gave way to ejaculation. His come fired out of his tiny penis in an arc and cleared the bed, landing on the desk across the room.

Erasmus, shrinking in the wake of his orgasm, saw Paxton’s high-flying come; immediately he stiffened again, lodging himself deep inside once more.

“Paxton, holy crap. You must have broken a record! You got me all turned on again. I’m stuck.”

Paxton rotated to a missionary position, wrapping his long legs around the sailor’s wide body. “I guess there’s only one thing left to do.”

And they did it. Day and night, and during the lunch hour when possible, the two men found erotic bliss in bed, in the bathroom, in the kitchen, anywhere tthey could manage a quick fuck or a long, slow lovemaking session. Paxton’s lips were chapped and red from Erasmus’s powerful kisses. As happens in a deepening relationship, they found the initial penetration increasingly swift. No pain, just a little spit and Erasmus slipped into Paxton’s deepest recesses. By the time the ship pulled into San Francisco, they were in love.


Epilogue
Erasmus and Paxton, or Razz and Pax as they were known in the neighborhood, rented a cottage in the Latin Quarter at the foot of Telegraph Hill in San Francisco. In that part of town, there were a lot of busy bars and cafes that catered to sailors and others of their kind. They were very popular at the Black Cat, where male beauty in all its forms was applauded and appreciated. The two never went on a voyage without the other. They were close to the piers and could always enlist on a vessel bound for an exotic destination. Japan, Thailand and Singapore were long voyages, giving the two sailors plenty of time alone together on the open sea.

Like all marriages, there came a time when they needed variety. Erasmus was so secure in his masculinity, he often allowed a third to enter the marriage and spend time inside them both. Nobody ever dared to do more than touch the giant that lurked in Razz’s sailor pants. It was a formula for marital bliss known mainly to gay men. The outsider brought new blood into the marriage, and reinvigorated the love between them.

They’re together still, in North Beach - living legends. To supplement their income, they give shows in the salons of the curious who demand proof that Paxton is the most skilled passive homosexual in the City. To this day, he is the only one who can take Erasmus at all, let alone completely. Some of the well-to-do on Nob Hill pay as much as a thousand dollars a show. A few photographs and super-8 films have been recorded and circulated. You may see them someday in a magazine, at a peep show, or tucked between the sticky pages of a novel not unlike this one.
 

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Learning the Ropes
Rocky pulled Paxton off the holystone and gave him the easy task of inspecting the ropes and cables for any worn out rigging needing replacement. The work was simple, yet it required intense concentration. Several hours went by in the blink of an eye. It was hot and humid, so the young sailor drank in large gulps from his canteen. He soon needed to pee.

He went to the toilet. It was empty, thank god. Then at the urinal, another OS stepped up beside him and pulled out a small but perfectly functional penis. Paxton was afraid to reveal his. He knew he couldn’t stand there and wait, so he leaned forward and pulled out the button of flesh. Shielding his embarrassment from view, he sprayed the trough with his best aim, hoping he didn’t hit the sailor next to him, who had taken a step back to display his little penis, which resembled a giant next to his insignificant nub of flesh. Paxton was still ruminating over his lot in life and didn’t realize he was staring at the man’s swelling cock. It was growing at an alarming rate.

“Damn it, Pax, now I can’t pee!” The young man’s penis had doubled in length and girth, and was still growing.

“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t- I mean it wasn’t me.”

The guy was not really mad. He just enjoyed intimidating the new arrival. “Look at it! It’s so big and hard now because of you. I can’t pee until you suck it. With strong hands, the OS pushed Paxton into a stall. Sitting down hard, Paxton wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Name’s Bill, by the way, but folks are starting to call me Trip, so you can too.”

“Are you the third Bill in your family? Is that why they call you Trip?”

“Nah, it’s because I triple in size when I get hard.”

Trip held the large chunk of meat in front of Paxton’s mouth, and clubbed his nose with it a couple times. “Open your mouth.”

“Don’t you want my ass?”

“Hell no! I don’t stick this beauty in the mud. Just mouths and pussies,”

Paxton feared this would end badly. Trip put his swollen cock into Paxton’s mouth and pushed it to the back of the throat. Paxton coughed up phlegm.

“That’s the way.” He started doing to Paxton’s throat what Brick and Rocky had done to his ass. He held the boy’s head and forced himself in and out in a slow cadence. It made Paxton retch at first, but the rhythmic motion calmed his reflexes until he could take the whole thing down his esophagus. Of course his airway closed when it was jammed full of dick, so Paxton had to hold his breath for long stretches.

“Wow, you are a natural.” Trip’s compliment made him blush. He liked being used by men like Trip: arrogant, pushy and well hung. He didn’t care if it made him less of a man.

“Ready for fourth gear?”

Paxton couldn’t nod with a long stiff cock in his throat. “Mm-hmm.”

Trip sped up to a blinding rate. His cock was flying so fast and so far down Paxton’s throat, he couldn’t get enough air.

Trip’s eyes were closed. Pax tapped in vain on his throat rapist’s legs, stomach, butt...nothing. Trip was deep in his head somewhere, pounding Paxton’s mouth like it was wet pussy.

The edges of Paxton’s vision turned red, and the red marched slowly to cover his eyes completely. Just before he passed out, he tasted a hot salty flood in his mouth and throat. It tasted like gumbo.

He awoke in a few moments to Trip slapping his face. “Wake up! Jesus why didn’t you tell me?”

It hurt to speak. “My mouth was full.” He sounded like a chain smoker.

Trip scurried off to wherever he belonged, and Paxton returned to the cables. In that whole encounter, never once did he reveal his pitiful wiener. Trip didn’t care. He just needed somewhere to shove his own glorious meat. Paxton was ashamed that he liked it. He was ready for more. But he was inferior, being a woman to these men. He knew what his mother did, and he didn’t want to be like her. She got paid for it; Paxton didn’t. Did that make it better or worse?

The noontime fuck with Rocky had left Paxton starving without lunch. The creole gumbo Trip fed him was hardly a meal. Dinner was just an hour away. He was done with his work. It was time to go below deck and consider who he was and what he was becoming.

Brick was happy to discuss it with his new roommate. “Pax, you see, you’re never, ever going to be able to fuck a hole, so just get that notion out of your head. You’re too little.”

Paxton groaned. He wanted to curl up and die. Brick continued. “Every ship has one. It’s the guy with the smallest willy. He spends all his time in the barrel. Hell, I’ve been that man before. Believe me, I was sore every day on that ship. You’re lucky we’re not all hung like horses.”

Paxton thought of the horses at Jackson Square and remembered their huge cocks. He shivered.

“I have never seen one as small as yours, so it won’t matter what ship, you’re going to spend all your time in the barrel for the whole crew.”

Paxton was defeated. “I’m doomed.”

“Doomed? Are you saying you didn’t like it?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, no, it was great. I just feel so dirty for liking it. But is was heaven.”

“That’s because you were blessed with that ass. It’s wired for pleasure.”

“It hurts a lot now, though.”

Brick smiled, “I know. But once you get past that, there’s nothing better in the world.” He picked up a two-day-old copy of the Times-Picayune and read the Sports section.

Paxton reflected on his experiences, all of them new and different. It was true; once the pain subsided, it was the most satisfied he’d ever been. Brick was good, and big Rocky was great. He even enjoyed Trip fucking his throat. Something was still missing though. Was it size?

“Hey Brick?” The redhead put down his newspaper.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“I like big ones.”

Brick shrugged. “That leaves me out. Why don’t you try George the cook?”

“Is that the Mexican one?”

Brick shook his head. “No, actually, George is Portuguese. I’ve never seen it, but it’s legendary. Oh, and of course Captain Alder. You won’t believe your eyes.”

“He’s big?”

“A colossal hunk of meat. You need to work your way up to it. Start with George a few times, then see the captain. To be safe, before George you might want to practice a while on someone a little less...intimidating.”

“Like who?” Paxton was taking notes.

“Look at you, a little size queen. It’s a pity they’ll wreck your hole for the rest of us.”

“Wreck...my hole? Can they do that?”

“Well, it gets looser. It starts to look like a pussy after a while. So yeah, someone in between.”

“Like Rocky?”

Brick guffawed. “I see you already met. He’s got size. Rocky’s big, but not the kind that leaves you inside-out with pussy lips.” He stroked his thin whiskers. “I know.”

“Who?”

Brick led Paxton to the officer’s deck, to Rocky’s room.

“I thought you said--”

“Hold up.” Brick knocked. Rocky came to the door in pajama bottoms. He filled them out well.

“Come in.”

A few minutes later, Paxton was in Rocky’s lap, face to face. The Officer’s cock was buried deep inside him. He wondered what Brick was doing behind him. It didn’t take long to find out. Brick pushed his way in. Pax howled with the pain of two cocks inside him at the same time.

“Shh, Shh.” Brick said. “It won’t hurt for long.”

Paxton shook with pain. His legs wobbled, even as he was supported by Rocky’s hairy, ham-thick thighs.

The officer put his lips to Paxton’s. Their tongues caressed each other. Brick leaned in from behind and stole a backward kiss. It was just a peck. Then Rocky held Brick’s head, exploring his mouth with his long tongue. They had a history together; it showed. Being the hole that glued these two cocks together was a privilege. As Brick pushed closer to the officer, his small cock rubbed against the much bigger pole. Both men shuddered with delight.

Paxton, wedged between them, had a few body shivers of his own. Between the pressure of Rocky’s cock against the deep recesses of his rectum, and the hole stretching combination of cocks at the entry, he was in his own bubble of pleasure. The fucking grew more intense. Brick fell out several times, but he popped right back in. Rocky strained to get his brawny arms to reach Brick. When he did, he put his hands on the redhead’s freckled ass and pulled him closer. Paxton was pressed hard between the men. He rocked his butt in time with the double-fucking. He stared at Rocky’s hard nipples mounted on two big flesh mountains. He lowered his head and sucked hard.

Rocky jerked from the sudden burst of pleasure. His cock hit the magic spot; Paxton leaked pre-come all over the muscle-man’s belly. Rocky knew the spot now. He pushed and pushed, milking the lad’s tiny nub and sharing the sweet syrup with both men. The two top men grew dizzy from the hormone-laden sap. It was really true; Paxton was like a different type of man from the others. He didn’t ejaculate; he only dribbled the clear precome. Maybe he was part woman. The thought revolted him. He focused again on pleasing the two studs fucking his ass.

Rocky was first. He looked about to sneeze. “Shit guys, here it comes.”

The come made the long journey from his balls out the head to the end of Paxton’s rectum. It was a lot. Gravity brought it raining down on Brick’s little pecker. The hot juice made him slip and slide along the base of Rocky’s massive shaft, He pounded hard. “Damn this is it. Fuck I’m coming!” Brick spewed sperm upwards inside the stuffed hole, mixing his essence with the officer’s. Their cocks softened and slipped out of the boy’s ass. A waterfall of come showered down on the two limp cocks.

When Paxton pushed out the last drops, he lifted off of Rocky’s thick thighs.

Brick suggested a second round, but Rocky pointed to the clock. It was nearly 2100 hours. Time to sleep. Havana tomorrow.

On the way down the two flights of stairs, Paxton’s legs shook. He staggered. Brick draped the boy’s arm across his shoulder and put his own arm around his waist to steady him.

“Was that good?”

Paxton nodded. “That was great.”

Brick beamed. “We can arrange a few more like that before you graduate to the giant ones.”

At breakfast, Paxton fidgeted in his seat. His ass wasn’t ready to sit on a hard bench just yet. A few seamen chuckled. They must know what happened. He looked at Brick, who didn’t seem to notice or care.

He looked up from his eggs. “Pax, I’m letting you know ahead of time. I gotta go ashore in Rio, so there’ll be someone new in the room.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll bet it’s Erasmus.”

“Erasmus. Tell me more about --”

Brick interrupted, “Later. You gotta holystone the deck before Havana.”

“Have you been to Havana?”

“Yeah, it’s swank.”

After scrubbing the heck out of the deck with holystones, the men were relieved to hear the blast that signalled the arrival in Havana harbor.

From the murmurs, Paxton knew it was break time. He, Brick and Rocky went ashore. Paxton was still sore from the double fucking they had given him. He struggled to keep up. They bought cigars, a Coke and a bottle of rum, then found an open bench on the Malecon. The island of Cuba had many different races. There were a lot of black people, but there were also people of Spanish descent, Creole, and Blond-haired men from god knows where. The parade of handsome men and beautiful women passing them was as intoxicating as the rum and Coca Cola. They started with sips from each bottle, then gradually emptied the cola into the rum.

Paxton had never tasted anything so sweet and delicious. The cigars were foul smelling but the effect, once Paxton learned how to puff, was another layer of glee imposed on the drunken rum. Rocky popped off and came back with hot pork sandwiches with pickles and melted cheese. It was no po’ boy, but it was still pretty damn delicious.

By nightfall, the trio stumbled aboard the Southern Cross. Paxton was sure they would be in trouble, but looking around, it was clear they weren’t the only ones indulging in rum. The steam whistle blew three times, and they were out of the harbor, headed for the island of Tobago.

Rocky went to his cabin to sleep off the rum. The two roommates tripped down the stairs and landed in the bottom bunk together.

Brick held Paxton’s perfect face in his rough hands. “You are beautiful.”

“Don’t you mean handsome? I’m a man!” He scowled.

“Handsome is common. Beauty - that’s a gift from God. You are beautiful.” Brick stroked the boy’s cheek, then leaned in for a real, romantic kiss.

Brick may be small, but he had a smooth technique. In one motion he pulled down his own pants and also exposed Paxton’s rump. It was painless when Rocky entered him. It was only because he liked to see Brick happy that he enjoyed the sex. His penis was small and insufficient. Paxton needed a big cock in his ass. With Brick he was eating potato chips when he could be having steak.

Brick was drunk, but he still had good technique. Paxton enjoyed momentary bursts of pleasure when Brick poked him the right way. The sex ended with Brick shooting his load across Paxton’s body, coating him like a glazed donut.
 

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The Seduction of George

They got to breakfast with a minute to spare. Brick picked up his plate of eggs and poured half of them into his mouth and the other half fell on the floor. Paxton had been cutting and stuffing them in small bites. He laughed and tried to pour the eggs down his throat like his friend and bunkmate, getting most of it on the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw George, the Portuguese chef, scowling at him for making a mess.

“Don’t worry, George, I’ll clean it up.” And he did. All morning they scrubbed the deck with holystone. It was tedious, but it worked. They broke for lunch, famished. When Paxton got in line for his chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes and gravy, George was serving. The OS couldn’t read the chef’s intentions. He was learning fast, though. He dropped a green pea and turned to bend and retrieve it. When he handed it to George he said, “I’m sorry, George. Can you throw it away?”

George smirked and tossed the offending vegetable into the trash. “I like it when you clean.” His accent was thick. “It is, eh, better than the men.”

Paxton smiled sweetly. “Thank you, George. I don’t mean to be a bother.”

George smiled back. “No bother, rapaz. My name is Jorge, not George.”

Paxton tried to pronounce the Portuguese version of his name back. “Zheorgie.”

“Close. No matter. You call me George.”

Trip was next in line. “Come on! Can you two lovebirds move it along? The rest of us got to eat!”

Paxton sat where he could eat and gaze at George. Brick and Trip joined him.

“You’re playing with fire, son.” Trip said. “There is nobody on this ship who could take him. Brick, you tried, right?”

Brick nodded. “Paxton’s been practicing.”

Paxton was enjoying the power he had over George, and hardly noticed the two men chattering at his side. He dropped his napkin strategically to give George another view of his magnificent heart-shaped buttocks. When he turned around, George was stroking himself under his apron. There was no way to see what he had under there, but legends always contain truth.

The Southern Cross picked up a two-part tramp voyage first to Tobago then on to Fortaleza in Brazil. It was a long haul with a lot of time at sea. Some sailors welcomed the long stretches; others complained about the delay in getting to Rio.

At dinner, Paxton continued his seduction of George. There was no more work to be done on his shift, volunteered to help George with the dishes. After supper, a dozen plates at a time, Paxton ran the tiny dishwasher. He and George dried plates together, each one stealing glances at the other. George was not terribly handsome; he was tall and stout. A five-o’clock shadow helped hide some of the imperfections in his skin.

Paxton knew better than to break a dish, so he let a spoon fall. Bending for it, he felt George caress his bottom. He stood back up and smiled. “That was nice, George. Do it again.”

He allowed George’s paws to roam, stopping when they got to his crotch. He retreated, staying above his waistline, rubbing up under the young sailor’s shirt. Paxton ground his butt into George. He gasped at just how enormous George was. He doubted his abilities. He should have practiced longer with Brick and Rocky. Based on what he was rubbing against, he should have found a third cock for their party to prepare him. No matter. He was in for a penny, in for a pound. Several pounds. A real pounding.

They retreated to the pantry. George stacked two sacks of flour and coaxed Paxton to bend over them. His sweaty hands spread lard in the tight butthole. Paxton couldn’t see George, and when he glanced over his shoulder, George gently turned his head forward. “Is better if you don’t see yet.”

Paxton was scared. He shook visibly.

“Okay, we quit.” George sighed, ready to wrap things up.

Paxton reached behind and grabbed George’s meat. It was slicked up with lard. “We’re doing this, George.”

The man’s enormous cock slipped from the his grip and thumped on the flour sack, raising a small dust cloud.

“No, you don’t want this.” George lingered, clearly needing to fuck.

“Put it in me slow.” The young sailor spread his legs further apart.

The pain was bearable when he first put the tip in. Paxton still had not seen it, so he couldn’t predict what was coming. It spread like a fire down the nerves in his rectum and perineum. Paxton suppressed a scream; it came out a yelp.

“I’m hurting you. We stop.” George pulled out

“No, we don’t stop. Fuck me, goddammit.”

When George put it in a second time, it hurt a little less. But then he went further, and he got thicker, and the same scream rose to Paxton’s throat. He turned it into a moan this time.

“I’m hurting you?”

“No, oh sweet Jesus it feels good.” Paxton lied. After that very thick middle, the rest of George’s cock slid in easily. The pain was everywhere, but Paxton grunted, moaned and made any sound he could to convince the Portuguese lunk to keep pressing forward. Soon, Paxton felt the tickle of the man’s balls against his buttocks. His rectum was too full, the cock had nowhere to go, but he kept begging.

“All the way, baby, all the way. Oh right there. Right there.”

With a pop, George’s cock turned a corner and entered Paxton’s sigmoid colon.

“Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh dear lord that does the trick!” It was like all the pressure had been released at once. The head of George’s cock thrust its way deeper into the digestive tract before it finally stopped with George’s legs between Paxton’s, his pelvic bone pressed against the entryway to his ass.

“I’m okay to keep going?” Sweet George was so polite.

“Fuck me hard! And get in there deep!”

George knew how to fuck hard. He searched out the loosest women on the waterfronts of the cities. They could handle him halfway in their vagina, but he knew how to go deep all the way in the ass, where half his cock didn’t have to remain out in the cold.

Given George’s reticence up to this point, his powerful fucking took Paxton completely by surprise. The man thrust in long strokes, dragging the extra thick middle portion past the prostate and out the rectum before plunging back in again all the way until the head was nestled in the colon.

Paxton’s fear dissolved into ecstasy. He knew all at once that this was his real gift. He could pleasure the titanic cocks and still receive pleasure in return. It took time to get started, but now that the cook was pounding and stretching him brutally, the sailor knew he had found his calling. Taking huge cocks was his mission in life. And right now, he was fulfilling the biggest mission yet.

“Pax, you soft like girl.” George reached up and rubbed the tiny penis. But instead of shrinking from the touch, the young sailor put the older man’s gnarled hand on his weiner. The pleasure coming from his ass was spreading to this little appendage.

“George, rub me.”

“I lick a finger.” He wet his hand with saliva and slid back and forth over Paxton’s tiny hard penis and shrunken balls.

Paxton’s eyes rolled back in his head. First, he leaked a tablespoon of clear juice that he produced every time the thickest part of George’s cock passed his prostate. Then when that thick part left his ass and went back in, his legs trembled. When the head popped past that corner, he felt that need to pee, or come as it were, building. And George’s slick finger intensified the urge.

George was making grunts of his own. He stroked the boy’s little nub with care, like he did to the clitoris when he was buttfucking a whore in port.

For a huge hung man, he had a hair trigger. The right combination of excitement and touch set him off.

“I will come soon.”

Those words gave Paxton intense satisfaction. Not only was he the sole reason this giant man was going to come, the man was making him come, too. It was the perfect negotiation where both parties win. He came down out of his head and to a building pressure in his crotch.

“I’m gonna come too, George.”

George sped up the rubbing and twisting of the tiny cock and balls. It made him insane with pleasure.

“I come in your ass.”

“Fill my ass with your come.”

George reverted to his native tongue. “Porra! Tome a minha tubassa! Santa Maria!” The sound of cursing is universal, even if the words are not.

Paxton knew it was coming. “Shit, George, I’m gonna, I’m gonna!” And Paxton ruined the top sack of flour.

“Porra!” And then the giant came inside the young sailor. The head of his cock was so deep inside that Pax couldn’t tell how much semen George had dumped in his ass.

George flipped him over onto his back, skewering him to the hilt.

George kept fucking. He stlll had more to push out.

“It’s four months no sex. I go again, quick, I promise.”

That was when Paxton realized that the downside of coming with a humongous cock in your ass was that the enjoyment diminished. As George’s pounding wore on, the sex grew painful.

With an expert slicked up hand, George rubbed Paxton. At first, it was a struggle, but eventually those good feelings all came back. The joy of giving and getting pleasure in one act washed over him again, and he smiled. George smiled back. He stopped rubbing.

Paxton lifted his head to get a glimpse of what was going in and out of him with such pleasure. It was not a pretty cock. It was older, the pubic hairs had grey, but the dick itself was enormous. George had to stand with legs wide so he could make the long strokes. If he stood with his legs closed, he wouldn’t be able to work the magic he was working now.

George’s strokes made Paxton have a surprise second orgasm with no hands. This time, the fresh sailor had an orgasm in his ass that traveled to his little cock. It didn’t produce much sperm, but it felt good. George saw the little penis push out its load, and it sent him over the edge.

“I make you come. I come now.” And that was all he had time to say. His whole body shook as he shot more sperm deep inside the young sailor’s sigmoid colon.

George was unattractive, and his dick was ugly, but its size was enough to excite Paxton. As the cook softened and the serpent wound its way out of the hole, he revealed a massive piece of meat. He was mostly hard, and it hardly shrank as he got softer. It reached more than halfway to his knees, as thick as a mooring rope.

George was blunt, probably because of the language barrier. “I don’t fuck boys. I make exception for you.”

Paxton frowned. “You didn’t like it?”

George sighed. “You don’t have big titties. Not your fault. You get titties in Rio, I marry you.”

Before Paxton could dig deeper into George’s kinks, he farted. It was from all the air George had pumped into him. But then the fart turned into a stream of come. It was enough to fill a teacup. It leaked down onto the lower bag of flour. George laughed.

The big giant reached out to help Paxton to his feet. When he stood, he staggered. George caught him in an embrace. He didn’t try to kiss him or hug him. He was just helping him get his sea legs back.

“Many women do the same when I am done.”

“So, this is it?” Paxton wanted George inside him right now. He was so fucking huge.

“You grow some big titties and come see me again, yeah?” He slapped his bottom, which sent shockwaves of pain through Paxton’s body.

“Sorry about the flour.”

George laughed. “It’s still good. Not to be preoccupied. I make biscuit and pancakes. Nobody know.”
 

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Aye, Captain

The next morning, George came to the cabin.

Paxton rolled his eyes. “What?”

George cleared his throat. “I apologize for last night.”

“Which part?”

“I yell and throw you.”

“What about fucking me so hard? Do you apologize for that?”

George was stunned. “I don’t...I am not apologizing for fucking you.”

“And for treating me like a woman?”

“No, Paxton, I’m not sorry for that.”

“Good. Then tonight you fuck me even harder and I’ll scream like a woman for you.”

Paxton made nightly visits to the pantry. George was a big oaf, but he knew how to make a man become a woman. Paxton wished they had more in common. The language barrier and lack of common interests were driving a wedge between them, so that the visits became pure sex and nothing else. It was George who asked for a break. Paxton needed him for sex, but he admitted defeat as far as a friendship was concerned. He agreed.

The next few days were torture. Paxton remembered alley cats yowling in heat back in New Orleans. He understood their pain. Brick did his best to help, but it was like being tickled with a feather. Even Rocky and Brick as a team couldn’t do what George did. They were far more handsome and interesting, but they couldn’t go to that place. Curious, Paxton went to the ship library to see if he could find an anatomy book. He found an illustrated dictionary. He searched until the word “bowel” revealed a map of the lower digestive tract. He saw the rough spots where Rocky had reached, called the rectal valves. George had turned the corner and went into the sigmoid colon. That explains why he thought he was poking a hole in his stomach.

On the third night without George, a knock came at the door. Pax hoped it was his well hung toy, but it was Captain Alder. If he came all the way down into OS territory, it meant someone must be in pretty serious trouble. The captain had broad shoulders draped with golden braids. His build was big, but not flabby. He was all muscle under that uniform.

“Young man, come with me.”

They went up two flights of stairs to the Officer’s Quarters, and then midship to the captain’s Cuddy. He escorted Paxton into this most private room.

“I’ve heard about you and George.” He said it so plainly, Pax couldn’t tell whether this was a compliment or a disciplinary action.

“George is very well endowed. He has a rival., though.”

The captain glanced downward and Paxton followed. What he saw couldn’t be real.

“It’s reserved for those who have demonstrated certain abilities.”

Paxton studied the captain’s face. He saw a twinkle.

“Can you handle it, son?”

“I really hope so.”

And suddenly, the captain was upon him. He kissed the boy deeply. “Here, put your little paw on it.”

Paxton placed his hand flat on the log in his pant leg. “It’s big.”

“No, grip it like this.” Captain Alder curled the lad’s fingers around the swollen mass, so thick that his fingers and thumb could not both touch the captain’s leg at the same time. It stopped a few inches above the knee. About the same as George lengthwise but ridiculously thick, and growing thicker.

“I can’t suck it.”

“Nobody can. I had other activities in mind.”

Paxton was desperate for a big cock in his ass, but not this sea monster. How could he possibly fit such a beast in his anus? It would tear him in two. He had that alley cat heat, much like a fiend for his dope or a drunkard his wine. He needed the captain inside him.

The cock had stretched the captain’s white trousers to the point he could never get them off. Then the captain reached under the inseam and unsnapped the pant legs like a cowboy shirt. The colossal log fell out, causing Paxton to jump.

The captain chuckled. “You like ‘em? I had a dozen of them custom made in Hong Kong. Damn near gave the tailor a heart attack.”

“Sir, hadn’t we ought to go to your cabin?”

“We’re in the cuddy! My cabin is like Times Square. The cuddy is off limits to everyone on board. That includes you. It is invitation only.”

The room had only a desk and a chair. Even flour sacks were better than this.

Captain Alder walked to a bare wall and pulled near the top molding. A Murphy bed unfolded.

The captain opened a desk drawer and removed a towel, a tub of Albolene, and a very thick rubber penis.

“Let’s get you warmed up.”

“What is that thing?”

The captain smiled. “It’s called a dildo.”

“What is it, though? Why do you have it?”

“These were invented by sea wives in Ancient Assyria to keep them from cheating during our long absences. I got this one in Maracaibo.”

“But you’re not married, so…?”

“So bend over and I’ll show you how bachelors use them.”

The older man coated the dildo in Albolene. It was thicker than George, but not as big as the captain. Paxton felt a familiar pressure against his anus. It grew more and more intense until at last the tight muscle gave way, accepting the whole rubber cock at once. The captain stumbled, caught off balance by the ease of forcing the tool into his belly.

“Damn, child. You’re loose.”

Paxton was in blinding pain, but didn’t want the captain to know. As the man worked the rubber giant in and out, the pain subsided. The sensation of the rubber against his rectal walls was sublime.

After ten minutes of moaning and bliss, the captain removed the dildo. Breezes blew through Paxton’s ass. He was gaping open like a cave.

Suddenly, real flesh and bone entered him. The captain put his whole hand inside. As the senior officer punched his way deeper, Paxton’s hole stretched from wrist width to forearm size.

“How am I doing?”

“Good,” Paxton lied.

“Perfect. Here comes the other one.”

Paxton bit the nearest pillow to hold back the scream. Why was the captain doing this? He was thick, but not two forearms thick. The pain became transcendent. Nothing could stop the agony, so he embraced it and made it into a strange flavor of pleasure. His moans were genuine. He was dancing on the tightrope between agony and ecstasy.

“Turn around so I can see your smile.”

Paxton rolled over. The captain’s hands were in nearly to the elbows.

“Oh God. Oh sweet Jesus, dear lord.” Paxton was mad at God, but he needed help to get through this.

“You’re ready for me. I know that look.” The captain removed his slippery hands and rubbed them dry on his enormous cock. He held open Paxton’s gaping shitter and pressed his way in. To Paxton, it was a relief. Then he understood the captain’s methods. He threw him in boiling oil so the boiling water would be an improvement.

“Not so bad, eh?”

Paxton nodded.

“Feels great down here, son.” The older man was indeed well built. As the grey whiskers tickled Paxton’s face, he felt the captain’s powerful abdominal muscles working to guide and strengthen his thrusts. George was into women, but the captain liked young men. It made a big difference in his technique. Every stroke, every kiss, every prostate squeeze was engineered for mutual pleasure.

Paxton’s bladder hurt. The captain was long enough, but far too thick to turn the corner. His blunt cock was a battering ram at the top of his rectum. It pushed hard into the surrounding organs, especially the bladder. Paxton struggled to be quiet and obedient.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s great.” Paxton hissed between clenched teeth.

The captain, encouraged, increased the pace and direction of his thrusts.

Paxton let out a howl. He was in a fog of pain and ecstasy.

“That’s what I was waiting for!” The captain pounded his hole without relent. Paxton shrieked.

The pressure on his bladder was excruciating. He had to let go and allow the urine to exit his bladder before it burst. He pissed the bed a little, then tried his best to keep it from flooding.

“Did you piss the bed?”

Paxton nodded, bracing for the captain’s fists.

But no fists came. The captain chuckled. “Every time. Don’t worry, I planned for it.”

The captain revealed rubber sheets under the cotton. “Just let it flow.”

Paxton grew deeply ashamed as he wet the bed more and more. He hadn’t done that since he was a young child. He struggled to hold back. With each thrust, the captain pushed more piss out.

Paxton let out a strangled cry that grew louder as the volume of urine increased. Finally there was nothing left.

“Ask anyone who’s been with me. I fuck the piss out of ‘em every time.”

“Like who?”

The captain kept pushing and grinding into the sloppy hole. “Nobody on this voyage. They always seem to quit. You won’t quit, will you?”

“N-n-no.” The extreme pressure on his empty bladder was tolerable, if not a bit irritating.

“Good.” The captain threw his head back and roared. “I feel it! Do you?”

Paxton nodded. He wasn’t sure what “it” was, but he was definitely enjoying a lot of different things so chances were he did.

“I’m gonna come, Paxton Pisspillow.”

Paxton wanted to punch the captain. He chose to moan appreciatively instead.

The captain’s summer sausage meat stick swelled like a beignet in the fryer. With that final stretch, Paxton sensed something wrong inside. It was a knife of pain. The older man kept on thrusting, and the pain subsided. Then the captain spewed come. Because he was so thick, and he hadn’t opened the passage to the colon, there was nowhere for the come to go but out the boy’s hole. Come and blood sprayed all over the captain’s sheets.

Panting, the officer covered the sailor with his muscular frame. His satisfaction was palpable. “Next time, it won’t take so long.”

Paxton saw the blood and felt faint. It was a lot more than he had guessed.

The captain groaned.

“Fuck. Fuck. Why do I do that? Sorry, Paxton. It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise. You’re not the first to bleed.”

Paxton sighed. The gut punching had built a wall of misery, like a bruise being pressed hard.

After all that pain and struggle, he hadn’t been able to get the captain past his rectum. He grew more lightheaded as he stumbled down to his room. He was too weak to open the door. When Brick answered, the lad tumbled into his arms. His pant seat had a bloodstain.

“Christ, Pax, are you all right?”

“Christ had nothing to do with it.”

Brick held him tight, peppering him with kisses. “The captain did this to you?”

Paxton nodded. “It was glorious.”

“He damn near killed you! Do you want me to report him?”

“No. It’ll be better the next time.”

Brick frowned. “I love you, man. Don’t do this to yourself.”

“I’m not your man. The captain claimed me.”

Brick shook his head. “He can’t do that.”

Paxton shrugged. “He can if I let him.”
 

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Deep Inside
It was late when the two sailors stumbled up the gangway. Their giggling stopped suddenly when the captain appeared out of nowhere and smacked Paxton hard.

“Where the fuck have you been, boy? I told you to stay out of trouble! I sent the port police out looking for you!”

Erasmus put himself between Paxton and the captain. “Hey! He was out with me. What gives you the right?”

The captain shoved Erasmus and gave a snarl. “You know I have every right. He isn’t safe out there.”

“Oh, and he’s safe when he’s imprisoned in your cuddy? Really, captain, you’ve sunk to a new low. Now please step aside, sir, so my roommate and I can get some rest.”

Erasmus held Paxton by the arm and pushed past the captain. He stopped short when the captain yanked the boy away from him.

“You want to spend some time in the brig, sailor? I can arrange it.”

Erasmus stood his ground. “You’ll send for the port police? I’ll go get them, and we can sort this out.”

With a shove, the captain released Paxton to Erasmus. “The police won’t be here when we leave port, sailor.”

Paxton resented being a pawn in this battle. He cleared his throat. “Captain, I’m well enough to sleep in my own bunk now, thank you.”

The captain growled, “You know it isn’t about your health. It’s about my needs. I need you, boy.”

“Well, you know where to find me. It’s a ship. I’m not going anywhere while we’re at sea.”

The captain pointed at Erasmus. “This is your doing. You better sleep with one eye open.”

Back in the room, Paxton wrung his hands. “I’m sorry, Erasmus. This is my fault.”

“The blame lies squarely with the bastard who kept you imprisoned against your will. That is despicable.”

“He just didn’t let me have sex with anyone but him. It was for my protection.”

Erasmus punched the ladder. “Damn it, Pax! He said it himself. It was for his gratification. You were his sex slave. Don’t apologize for him.”

Paxton couldn’t stop stealing glances at the long bulge in his roommate’s trousers. It was the longest, thickest cock he had ever seen. It held so much power and sexual energy.

“I’ll be your sex slave. I want you to fill me with your cock, more than I’ve ever been filled before.”

Paxton saw the bulge jump. He knew Erasmus liked that idea.

“You’re crazy.” Erasmus said it with conviction, but to Paxton, it sounded hollow.

Paxton bent over to pick up a sock from the floor. He stayed bent over a second longer than necessary. He tossed the sock in the hamper. When he turned back to Erasmus, the bulge was swelling. He stepped forward and put one hand on the sailor’s big cock. He closed his eyes and waited for lips to meet his. They did. Erasmus held the ordinary seaman’s head and pushed his tongue into his mouth. They stayed locked in an embrace, kissing passionately, for several minutes. Paxton’s underclothes dampened with pre-come. A wet spot developed just below the knee and spread across Erasmus’s pant leg. The seams of his trousers strained as stitches popped. They both wanted to say something to the other, but they were too focused on the kiss to interrupt that perfect moment. Each man held doubts if they could follow through with what came next. Paxton was determined to relax and stretch enough to give Erasmus all the pleasure his commanding cock deserved, but he doubted he could. Erasmus was afraid he would rip Paxton open, killing him. But nothing was said.

With a loud rip, the inseam of Erasmus’s trousers burst open, releasing his cock upwards. It hit Paxton right between the legs. Paxton gasped when the massive log of flesh battered his tiny balls, and he doubled over.

Paxton groaned, but Erasmus guffawed.

“I’m sorry, Pax. I can’t control it,”

Paxton joined him in laughter until they both were overcome with it. They wiped tears from the corners of their eyes and laughed some more. Trip next door pounded the wall. They had to stop. Erasmus solved it by leaning in and kissing Paxton with his tongue. Whatever love Paxton had for Brick, it was ten times as powerful with Erasmus. He put his hand on his roommates colossal dick, watching it swell and lengthen with each beat of his heart.

Paxton would rather die fucking Erasmus than go on living enduring the captain. Despite Erasmus’s protests, the young recruit removed his dungarees and positioned the handsome sailor’s grapefruit-sized head at his hole.

Erasmus said, “You’re gonna need lubrication.”

Paxton shook his head. The Vaseline from earlier that day was still coating his insides. He took a deep breath and pushed back. No movement.

Erasmus grabbed a tube of Brylcreem from his dresser drawer and applied it liberally to the head and the shaft before wiping the rest inside Paxton’s loose anus.

Paxton pushed back with all his might, but the monstrous cock would not push past his opening.

Erasmus shook his head. “Forget it, kid. I’ll always be a virgin. Ain’t fucked man or woman my whole life.”

Paxton popped a tube of amyl nitrate. As the fumes did their work, his inner sphincter relaxed. With a violent shove, Paxton tugged and forced the Able Seaman’s wide cock into his well-worn rectum.

Erasmus gasped. Paxton inhaled a second whiff and forced the massive head to the back of his rectum. The Erasmus still had many inches to go. Paxton couldn’t get the captain to pop past the sigmoid valve, so he worried Erasmus would never know the pleasures of his colon. That wasn’t right. The captain didn’t deserve to go all the way, but Paxton longed to take the blue-eyed sailor’s giant all the way.

Erasmus was astounded. Until a moment ago, he was a virgin top man. Now his cock was surrounded by warm, slippery flesh. He heaved and lunged, enjoying sex for the first time in his twenty-five years on Earth. It was all too much; without warning, he spewed his come inside the younger man.

He began to deflate. That gave Paxton the chance he needed. He pushed against the semi-hard log of flesh until it popped into his colon.

“Holy crap! Did I just tear you open?”

Paxton slammed his rump into the man’s pelvis, forcing him deep inside, then leaned back and kissed Erasmus. In moments, the older sailor was hard again. The soft walls of Paxton’s ass stretched to accommodate the immense girth at the base of the cock. In his colon, the head swelled so large, it felt like gas pains. They were locked together in a rhythmic embrace. Erasmus pulled his cock out until the corona reached the junction; he was trapped and couldn’t pull out until he got off again. He could still slide in and out five inches or so. Paxton loved the sensation when the head snagged at the exit to his sigmoid colon.

Erasmus pushed and pulled his broad flesh filling him completely then retreating hundreds of times.

“Paxton, you’re a miracle.”

The younger sailor rotated and lay back on the bunk, giving Erasmus full access to fuck him hard. He encouraged his impaler by spanking his muscular butt and tweaking his meaty nipples.

The come from earlier began leaking out of the hole, lubricating the immense cock and sending Erasmus into a frenzy. He pumped his meat in and out in long thrusts. Paxton put his ankles on Erasmus’s shoulders. Erasmus lifted them high to gain more traction. He let an ankle drop and twisted Paxton to one side. In the new position, Paxton’s guts compressed, gripping the massive cock even more tightly. Paxton was pinching his partner’s nipples when the twist happened. He saw stars from glorious pain. He pinched very hard until Erasmus let out a holler. Upon release, the nipples sent a shockwave throughout Erasmus’s nervous system, triggering another orgasm.

“Oh Paxton, oh sweet Jesus I’m gonna come.”

Paxton pulled the older sailor to meet his lips. They searched each other’s mouths with their tongues. Paxton exploded, splattering Erasmus’s chest and belly. A second later, Erasmus unleashed a second flood.

“Ohhh! Fuck you’re good!”

Paxton blushed at the compliment as his sigmoid colon filled with warm semen,

They stayed locked together, panting and kissing intermittently. The kisses triggered Erasmus to swell again.

Paxton grasped the man’s buttocks firmly and shoved him all the way in. Erasmus has never fucked anyone, and now he was on his third go with Paxton.

After thirty minutes of constant humping, Erasmus came a third time. Paxton wanted to kiss Erasmus so badly, but they both knew it would swell him up again and they would be locked. Instead, they waited until Erasmus deflated, allowing Paxton to expel the invading tube of flesh from his body. It snaked and coiled its way out of him, followed by a raging river of come,

They put on towels and went down the hall to the showers to remove the sweat, Vaseline, semen and Brylcreem from their tingling bodies.
 

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Try, Try Again
Brick was concerned when Paxton limped into their room.

“Little brother, are you okay?”

Paxton nodded. He felt like he’d taken a beating from a thug at school, but from the inside. His pain couldn’t outweigh the excitement of the royal pounding that caused him to come all over the flour. He laughed to himself when he pictured everyone eating the biscuits and gravy in the morning. Brick hopped down off the top bunk and helped his friend into his bunk.

Brick stroked his hair. “Sleep it off, you’ll be fine in the morning.”

Morning came quickly. Paxton was no better than he had been when he stumbled out of the kitchen the night before. He limped upstairs to the mess. George scowled, but Paxton forced a bright smile. “Hey George. How’s it hanging?”

George leaned forward in a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s not. It’s standing at attention.” And it was. George kept it under the counter.

Paxton balked when the cook said, “Let’s do it again tonight.”

“But I didn’t grow titties.” He whispered.

“I don’t care. Look at my dick.” His apron was loose, and you could still see he was hard as a rock and huge as fuck. “I need to be in you.”

Paxton needed to come again like that. Only George had been able to make him ejaculate without touching his dick. Brick had a talented tongue, but he could never press him and stretch him enough to fill him up, a satisfaction one hundred times more powerful than a small dick in his entryway.

He and Brick had KP together. They peeled potatoes and talked about the upcoming battle inside his intestines. Brick was experienced. “There is no better cure for this than to do it again the next day,” he said.

Paxton wrinkled his nose. “How is that possibly true? I’m bruised and probably torn up. Doing it again would only make it worse.”

“It’s different with ass fucking. The more you do it, the better it gets.”

“You’ve never been with George!”

“No, but I’ve been with guys who were pretty close. Trust me, Pax. You will scream bloody murder the first minute, and then moan like a whore for the rest of the night.”

Paxton’s mom was a whore. He got pretty upset over Brick’s choice of words, but it was the meaning behind them he heard.

“Brick, I’m not gonna back out of this, so you had better be right.”

“Ten bucks says I am.”

After sundown, Paxton met George in the pantry. He was so excited, his chef pants were ready to rip in two.

George dipped his hand inlard, and put a glob at the entryway. He lowered his pants with great effort, and his giant cock sprang up to his chest like a mousetrap. He rubbed the lard up and down the length of his pole.

Paxton wavered between excitement and fear. He kept Brick’s advice in mind as George pushed his way in. It was much faster and more painful than the previous night. Paxton sobbed silently, certain he would die from the pain. If he let George know, it would stop. He grunted and whined, faking pleasure to keep the big Portuguese going. The grunts became moans and the whining ceased. To his amazement, he was no longer faking pleasure; he was overcome by it.

George planted his legs in the archer’s stance and sunk his meat deep. He turned the corner and sent Paxton Into a shuddering orgasm-like trance. The big man was only just getting started. Brick had not been fibbing. After that first minute, it was better than before.

George plunged and retreated with the regularity of a sidewheel crank on a steamboat paddle. The long steady strokes put Paxton ever deeper into his trance. There was only pleasure, and hard flesh sliding against soft. When George pressed on the prostate, Paxton leaked clear sticky juice.

George smiled. “I know I do good when you come like woman.” He let the clear juice fall and soak into the flour sack.

Paxton was angry that George spoke of him like a woman, but he was too turned on to stop. “You make my pussy wet.”

George liked the dirty talk. “You want more wet?”

The novice nodded shamelessly. George went from steamboat to locomotive. Faster and faster he fucked. “I make you woman!” The cook grabbed onto Paxton’s chest and squeezed until his nipples rose. “You have titties now.”

George buried his face In the crack between Paxton’s tits and licked it.

With George’s cock hammering in and out of his gut, and the tongue on his breasts, Paxton began to moan in a higher pitch, like a woman. He became a dizzy girl, his cunt stretched wide by this man’s hard, massive prick,

“Oh George, Come in my pussy.”

“I gonna make you pregnant, yes, woman?”

“Put a baby in me.”

George tried to do exactly that. His feverish pitch sent waves of intense pleasure through Paxton’s insides. Somewhere at the base of his spine, a nerve throbbed in his minuscule genitals. “George, I’m gonna come!”

“Me too, pretty lady.”

He squeezed the boy’s breasts hard. Paxton responded by tightening his sphincter.

“A Porra!” George cursed with joy. “I come in you!”

Paxton didn’t hear, he was busy having a full body orgasm. He shook from shoulder to toes. Again, without touching himself, he ejaculated multiple times, sullying George’s apron and beard with his sperm.

“I make baby in you now!” George threw his head back and groaned. He released a giant shot of come.

“I’m going to have your baby.”

Those words may have been responsible for the next five shots, each one progressively more than the previous. It was a milky white river of baby juice flowing into Paxton’s colon.

George closed his eyes and awkwardly kissed Paxton.

Giddy with post-coital pleasure, the young man laughed. “I think your beard is going to get pregnant with my baby.”

This sudden reversal of roles didn’t please George.

In an angry retreat, he pulled his semi-hard cock out of Paxton’s ass.

“You disgust me.”

Paxton was shocked. “George, I didn’t mean it. I’m the one getting pregnant.”

“You are a man, you let me waste my seed in your cu.”

Paxton began leaking the man’s sperm out of his ass onto the flour sack.

“George, I…”

“Get out! Look at the flour. You filthy pervert.”

The giant picked him up by the shirtfront and threw him towards the pantry door.

Paxton stood and left without a word. He heard George cry out, “Wait! I am sorry. Please!” He smiled to himself. He liked George best when he begged. As he went down the first flight of stairs, he was suddenly aware of how rough George had fucked him. His back hurt, and his rectum was on fire. Covering over the pain was a joyful tingling sensation. With each step, the pain and pleasure increased in tandem.

Doubled over, but tingling like a lightning strike, Pax stumbled into his bedroom. Grease and come trickled down his legs, soiling his pants. Brick smiled. “Did I win?”

Paxton nodded. “Ten bucks.”
 

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In The Cuddy
The next morning began with an argument.

“So I’m just a wife to you while we’re out at sea?”

Brick laughed. “It’s not that serious.”

Paxton was furious. “You don’t take me seriously?”

“Calm down, hot stuff. I’m not saying you’re no good. Heck, you’re probably better, but I got a family.”

“But I have no choice. I’m either your woman or I’m nothing but a memory.”

Paxton was purple. He wanted to punch Brick and every other normal man out there. He raised a hand; Brick grabbed it.

“Watch it, kid. What is this about?”

“You don’t know what it’s like! I have nothing at all down there.”

“Don’t you get it?” Brick asked. “You’re built differently for a purpose. You’ll make a lot of men very happy.”

“But I want to be one of those men! I want to fuck your ass!”

Brick shrugged. “It ain’t gonna happen. You’re a jockey trying out for a fullback. Play to your strengths, man.”

Paxton considered this. “I guess you know a little bit what it’s like, being small and all.”

Brick grinned, “Small gun, but full of bullets. I got two kids and a third on the way.”

“I’m never going to have kids.” Paxton hung his head.

“No, but you’re going to have the best ass to ever sail the oceans, if the captain doesn’t destroy it. You’ll make Able Seamen tremble. You took George, for Christ’s sake. You could make anyone happy. Maybe even Erasmus.”

Paxton perked up. “What about Erasmus?”

“You’ll see for yourself when we get to Rio. Let’s just say he makes the captain look like me. And he pines for the pretty boys like you, but never can get one. He’s just too damn big.”

“Does his wife know?”

Brick guffawed. “Wife? Erasmus scares women away. He’s a man’s man. At least they try to take him. No one ever has. Lonely guy, really.”

Paxton wondered how anyone could beat the captain. His insides were still bruised from the pounding.

Brick said, “Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear.” It was the captain. He tilted his head in the direction of his cuddy. Without words, the two men had a conversation with their bodies. The captain wanted him; Pax was sore. Leading the youthful beauty by the neck, he commandeered him to the cuddy, his private room behind the wheelhouse.

Paxton lay on the bed and pulled his knees to is ears. The captain licked his lips. He pulled the young sailor to the edge of the bed. He wiped his bloody hole clean with a washcloth before lubricating him.

“Bit of a mess, eh? I’ll be gentle this time.”

But the captain’s thick cock was incapable of being gentle. Paxton was glad. He liked it when this man was rough. He stuffed him full and used his powerful muscles to thrust and bludgeon his way to the back of the rectum, where he could go no farther. He left a good two inches exposed because he was too thick and hard to round the bend. Paxton pissed himself again but this time he got off on the pride in the captain’s eyes.

“I’m fucking the piss out you again.”

Paxton nodded. There was less blood this time. The ride was smooth, ending each thrust abruptly with a powerful kidney punch.

“Do you like your captain inside you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir, captain, sir.”

Paxton throbbed inside and out. It was pain, desire, lust and shame making a delicious sex soup in his brain.

He watched the captain’s impossibly thick rod piston in and out of his anus. It was slick with jelly and shined in the tropical morning light. Paxton achieved that blissful Hindoo state of Kama, where all sensual pleasures intersect. The captain’s masculine energies collided with the feminine spirit inside Paxton. Both men shook violently as the brutal colonizing cock conquered the fleshy rectal folds and pressed inwards, releasing an intense wave of pleasure not unlike female orgasm. Neither man ejaculated at that moment. They were overcome by the energy exchange. It was one perfect moment, and then it was gone forever. Neither man would share that bliss with the other again.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh shit.” The captain’s flurry of epithets was followed by another powerful wave of release, and his cock shot hot white globs into The young sailor.

Paxton fired several rounds of come on the captain’s bare furry chest. He felt the rapid withdrawal of the flesh log from his innards. His hole remained open, gaping like a foundering fish. The river of semen cascaded out, buttering the boy’s thighs with the older man’s juices.

A cold wind passed through the room. The captain tied his bow tie and adjusted the cap on his balding head. He smiled at Paxton. It was the smile of a pig farmer to his sow as he dreamed of bacon. It inspired dread.

“You have the day off, young man. I’m keeping this locked so you won’t be disturbed. Oh, and this is for you.” He dropped a packet on the dresser and left.

Paxton spent a day of solitary confinement locked in the captain’s cuddy, a diamond in a safe. The packet contained fifty dollars in fives.

The captain brought him breakfast, then lunch. They shared dinner. The captain showered him with kisses, but each one left Paxton colder than the last. When the captain unleashed his throbbing cock, Paxton obediently rolled over and let its immense girth and unrealistic length fill him completely. He moaned and pretended to enjoy it, just as his whore of a mother had done with the many uncles. He tolerated and even took pleasure in the violent pounding. It gave him a sense of belonging to a higher rank. But Paxton didn’t come with the captain. The money bothered him almost as much as being treated like a possession. Neither of those marked the moment when he went from being loved to being owned. Instead it was that transcendent moment between them that had somehow closed the gates of Paxton’s heart. It was gone. He loved the captain’s huge cock and firm muscles. He loved to nurse on his big meaty nipples. He loved making extra money. But he didn’t love the captain. He was a whore.

Pax lay awake beside the snoring captain. His insides were bruised and trembling. He thought back to the violent lovemaking, and realized for the first time that it wasn’t mere size that would fill the emptiness. He needed something more. He struggled to find words for it. He touched the tender flesh on his behind. It hurt. What he needed was to hurt like that for someone who wanted them both to be happy. He knew such tenderness from Brick, but he would never be satisfied with a small penis like that. The captain had the right anatomy to fill him but only did it for himself. Brick hit the right place in his heart. He needed both.

Tobago was a mosquito-ridden spit of sand. Unlike Havana, there was very little to do. He rode alone with the “longshoremen” who pulled up to the boat. They had a dozen boatloads to bring out to the Southern Cross. It would be several hours. Walking down a shadeless drive, lined with grass shacks and discarded tires, Pax felt a deeper emptiness. They were only here long enough to pick up the sugar cane and plantains. In town, if you could call it town, he bought a Coca-Cola and realized why he was the only idiot who went ashore. The highlight of his time on the tiny island was lunch, served from a grass shack on stilts by a toothless old lady. It was lobster pie, and it was delicious. They accepted American coins here, so he bought two for a dime. He ate the second one on the way back to the ship. There was just enough room for Paxton to wedge himself between the cane and the plantains. He watched the clouds overhead as they moved rapidly by. In the distance, he heard thunder. Before he got to the ship, it was pouring. He tried to help the stevedores but they slapped his hands and sent him up on the crane with a load of cane.

He stepped under the metal overhang and removed his shirt. He wrang it out, but didn’t put it back on. The captain saw him and ushered him to the cuddy.

“I don’t want other men to see you half naked. They might get ideas.

Paxton nodded, seething inwardly. He used to believe the captain was the prize catch, but he was just an annoying prick with an inflated ego.

“You want to do it, then?”

The captain smiled. “I thought you’d never ask”

In the private room, the captain continued to give orders.

“Put your shirt on the radiator.”

Paxton longed for Rocky the Third Officer, who treated him like a son, not a slave. But he had earned this, whatever it was worth. The attention of the captain was a valuable commodity, and lucrative too.

With military precision, the captain pulled out his cock and slipped it inside Paxton. It always hurt, but it took less time to find the pleasure now. The Captain had very little time, so he was careless. He drew blood again, but didn’t stop. He let his thick semen combine with Paxton’s blood. When he withdrew savagely, the red and white mess flew out and stained the bedspread.

“God damn it!” The captain bellowed.

Paxton jumped with fear. But the captain wasn’t a monster. He kissed him and apologized.

“Shall I clean it up, sir?”

“It’s my mess, Pax, not yours. Just leave it.”

Paxton’s shirt was dry now, so he put it on. The fabric burned his skin. It was oddly pleasant. He was so loose, he couldn’t hear his farts. His gaping anus expelled air, then come and blood that trickled down his leg.

Maybe the captain was a bit of a monster. “Clean that up!” His face glowed bright red.

Paxton had created a puddle on the hardwood floor.

“I don’t have a rag.”

“Use a washcloth, you worthless faggot!”

Paxton realized in that instant that despite being of low rank, he held all the power. The captain only got his way by yelling at him or ordering him about. But the captain needed Paxton, more than he needed the captain.

“Sir, I’d like you to clean it up.” he stood defiant.

The captain raised his arm.

“Do it,” Paxton said, “or you’ll never fuck me again.”

“What’s this insolence?” He held his arm as though to strike.

Paxton gestured towards his gaping anus. “If you want this, you have to treat it right.”

The Captain reddened, then said softly, “That’s no way to talk to your captain. I don’t want your ass, I own it. Now that disgusting mess is your fault, so clean it up.”

“If the General Directorate inspects my torn asshole, who’s at fault then?”

The color drained from his face. “You wouldn’t dare.” He lowered his arm. Paxton won.

“Clean up your filthy come. You put it in me, and it’s not my problem it came out. Or leave it, I don’t care.”

The captain lowered his head. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He went to the bathroom, his thick log swinging from side to side. Paxton watched him clean, enjoying the view from behind.

The captain fell into his new role. “Did I do it right?”

“You did good. You can fuck me tonight.”

The captain pleaded, “Will you join me at my table for dinner?”

“I’m OS, a cadet. If I join you in the open, I’ll lose respect from my comrades.”

“Your comrades know your ass is mine. Respect isn’t on the table any more.”

Paxton smacked the captain hard. A smile spread across the older man’s face. “Do it again.”

To maintain the social balance, Paxton stopped spending nights with the captain in his cuddy. As their ship, fully laden with cargo, rocketed towards its next waystation of Fortaleza, Paxton did the rounds, pleasing each sailor the way he best knew how. Trip got a regular mid-day blowjob. They met in the toilet. If it was busy, they waited until they could at least get started by themselves. Everyone knew Trip and many experienced the odd sensation of his loose floppy cock tripling in size in their mouths. If a sailor stumbled in on them while they were busy, he just stepped around them. After lunch, Rocky waited in his room for the handsome lad to come play Daddy and son. After dinner, Paxton made a quick trip to see George, who always needed the relief. Later at night, he joined the captain for a colon-stretching session. He topped it all off with a light dessert: Brick.
 

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Paxton and Erasmus bond over curses
The Albatross
The waterfront was alive with nightclubs, restaurants, bars and dance halls. Erasmus led the way as the two sailors strutted down Atlantic Avenue. Women and men alike turned their heads for a second glance at Paxton’s face. A few eyes wandered further down and widened at the anaconda in Erasmus’s trousers.

The young sailor relied on his new friend to guide him.

“Up this street, there’s the best feijoada in Rio.” Erasmus pointed up a narrow side street.

“What’s feijoada?”

“Are you hungry?”

Paxton nodded. He was starving.

“Then you’re about to find out.”

Feijoada turned out to be a rich stew made with beans and sausages. It was like Red Beans and Rice times ten. The restaurant brought endless baskets of ‘pao de queijo’ - little biscuits made with a white melty cheese. They dipped the biscuits in the stew and it was like heaven.

“Brick tells me you and he made it together.”

Paxton nearly choked on his stew. “What else did he tell you?”

“He told me you got a nasty knock on the head, and ever since, you’ve been in love with the captain.”

“I’m not in love with him. I was in love with Brick, but he had a family. The captain can have me fired, so I gotta act like I’m into him.”

Erasmus pounded the table so hard he nearly split the wood in two. “Not again. That bastard.”

Paxton had questions, but a dessert of little balls of chocolate called Brigadeiro arrived at the table, and they both forgot everything. There was one ball left. Paxton eyed it hungrily, but Erasmus snatched it from the plate. He waited for Paxton’s frown, then reached across and pressed the savory ball into the boy’s mouth.

Erasmus brushed Paxtons lips with his manly thumb as he withdrew. Paxton longed to hold on to it and suck it. He shook his head. He was the captain’s property now. This night out was all the freedom he would get.
“You know, when I saw you that first day on the wharf, I decided to become a Merchant Marine.”

Erasmus chuckled. “Those guys were teasing you mercilessly. Why on Earth did you decide to join them?”

“It was you more than anything. You were so kind and protective.”

Erasmus shrugged. Paxton worried he may have said too much.

“And it was the way that all of you were like a family. I never had that.”

“Are your folks okay with you being a Merchant Marine?”

“I don’t know my Dad. My mom misses me, but she’s proud.”

“It’s a good gig, so long as there’s peace. If we get another big war, you will regret it. Ask the captain, he can tell you what it was like running cargo in the Atlantic during the war.”

“Erasmus, I don’t want to talk to the captain. I like talking to you.”

Erasmus cast him a worried glance. “Be careful with him.”

“I am. I have him believing he’s the best lover in the world.”

“Brick said it’s like being fucked with an oil derrick.”

Paxton laughed. “Brick did it with the captain?”

Erasmus sighed. “He didn’t have a choice. None of us do if he sets his sights on us.”

Paxton frowned. “You too?”

Erasmus grabbed a waiter. “Duas Bohemias, por favor.”

Paxton wanted to know. “Erasmus, did the captain…?”

“I heard you. I need a beer before I can talk about it.”

The two roommates enjoyed the bitter brew. Erasmus ordered two more and then opened up.

“Paxton, everyone learns in the Merchant Marine how to get off with other men. If we didn’t, we’d probably kill each other.”

Paxton drained his bottle and nodded.

“And you know it’s illegal, right?”

Paxton shook his head.

“Yeah, you can get court-martialed if the captain turns you in.”

“But Captain Alder wouldn’t do that, would he?”

“As long as we follow his orders, and do his bidding, we’re safe.”

“If he did that, wouldn’t he get arrested too?”

Erasmus shrugged. “Maybe, but he’s the C.O. It would be anyone’s word against his.”

Paxton took two bottles from the waiter and passed one to Erasmus.

Erasmus continued. “Captain Alder chooses which laws to enforce. As long as he gets a piece of ass every night, we’re all safe. He likes the young, pretty ones best. I was young when I first joined his ship. The other guys broke me in the first couple of days, and then I went off to the captain’s cabin. He was cruel with me, because I’m so much bigger than him. He likes his boys with small ones, like Brick...and you.”

Paxton blushed crimson. He hated that his tiny penis was common knowledge.

“If you think the captain is rough with you, just imagine him taking out his rage on me. Every day my cock threatened his masculinity. But I let him have me. It’s not like I could ever fuck someone with this.” He grabbed his cock mid-thigh.

Paxton frowned. “You called it your ‘Albatross.’ What does that mean?”

“Coleridge.”

Paxton shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“It was an epic poem. ‘The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.’ The sailor kills an Albatross and the crew members make him wear the giant bird around his neck. It’s a sailor’s heavy curse.”

“Well, my tiny hummingbird isn’t much better.” They clinked bottles in a toast.

Erasmus raised one eyebrow, a golden beer light shining through the misty blue. “It’s the same curse, Paxton.”

“I don’t understand. From what I see, you have more than enough. I have nothing.”

“Too much might as well be nothing.”

They both sat in silent contemplation, nursing their beers.

Paxton spoke. “God is an asshole.”

Erasmus laughed. “That’s probably the only asshole I could ever fuck.”

Paxton was giddy. “I’ll bet I could take you.”

Erasmus lost his smile. “No one can. Don’t joke about it.”

“I’m serious.”

Erasmus narrowed his eyes. “I like you kid. I would only hurt you. It looks great, but it’s not built for sex”

Paxton sighed. He could tell he was walking on landmines. “The captain would never let you near me, anyway.”

“What do you mean? We share a room, kid.”

Paxton shook his head. “He keeps me locked in the cuddy. I’m not allowed out. Someone brings me my meals.”

Erasmus’s jaw dropped. “That’s not right, Pax. He’s never done that before.”

Paxton shrugged. “Lucky me. He fucks me morning, noon and night. I’m his slave.”

“He’s gone too far. We gotta get you out of there,” Erasmus said.

“It’s okay. I like getting fucked. He’s not very good at it, not like Brick, but I still like it.”

The two bottles of beer made their way through the two men quickly.

Together, they staggered to the banheiro.

Paxton unzipped and pulled his tiny penis out. Erasmus was a good guy. He wouldn’t ridicule him. He turned and watched his roommate struggle to extract his never-ending hose of flesh from his pants leg. Paxton was done before Erasmus finally liberated the apple-sized head. He had to take a step back to give himself enough space to piss without splashback. Paxton absently played with himself, craving the frighteningly large cock Erasmus expertly aimed like a long rifle. Paxton put a hand on Erasmus’s massive balls, rubbing them with fascination.

“Man, even your balls are huge.”

Erasmus was done, and as he shook off the last droplets, the familiar flow of blood filled his cock, swelling it and lifting it away from his body.

He pushed Paxton’s hand away. “Don’t start evil.”

The younger man licked his lips. “I’ll bet I can get you off.” He held Erasmus by the base of his cock, and stroked him. His fingers couldn’t touch, and the girth kept increasing as more and more blood filled the massive chambers of the sailor’s cock.

Paxton stood behind Erasmus, stroking him. He closed his eyes and pretended it was his own. He spit in his palm to make the stroking easier. It dried quickly and he spit again. Erasmus arched his back and surrendered. His breath grew shallow. He let his head roll back onto the shoulder behind him.

“I get lightheaded, Pax. Don’t let me pass out.”

Paxton wrapped his free arm around the sailor’s broad chest. “I got you, Raz.”

The sailor’s cock grew and grew. Paxton marveled that nature could have created something so absurdly out of proportion to a man’s body. He lifted the tower of flesh until it rested against Erasmus's chin, swelling thicker and thicker. Paxton’s one hand could only rub the flesh now. It was like rubbing one of Rocky’s biceps. Despite its incredible size, the sailor’s penis was sensitive. It was only a minute longer before Paxton felt the recoil of orgasm. Pointing straight in the air, it became a sprinkler, raining down heavy droplets of white rain.

Erasmus made no sound. Paxton realized the sailor had fainted.

As quickly as the massive log of flesh had swollen, it began to deflate. Erasmus regained consciousness and pushed away from Paxton. He began the long, complicated task of replacing his penis in his pants. An uncomfortable silence between the two men was broken by a customer who glanced at the two men, shrugged, and stepped to the trough to pee. Both sailors stared at the customer’s plump, slightly larger than average penis; both sailors felt a deep, hopeless envy, for opposite reasons
 

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Cape of Storms

The roommates made love at every opportunity. The decision had to be quick; if they hesitated, Erasmus would grow too hard and his head wouldn’t fit through the inner door. They spent all free time locked in the room, fucking until their skin burned from the friction. They lost count somewhere between Rio and Montevideo.

In Uruguay, the men hoped the tramp steamer would get an order for the Caribbean, but it was a large order to be delivered around the Horn in Valparaiso. The crew were disheartened. Any trip to the Pacific meant hassles. Getting from the Pacific back to the Atlantic Seaboard was never a straight path. Worst of all, their itinerary sent them through the dreaded Straits of Magellan. In modern times, it was much safer, but it still claimed several ships a year. The Panama Canal was far enough from Uruguay that the tramp steamer would lose money if they didn’t make the perilous passage.

At Cape Horn, a gale became a nasty storm. Paxton had never been through such an ordeal, having only known calm seas thus far. He stayed in the room clinging to Erasmus for comfort until his stomach could bear no more. He rode the railing, nearly washing overboard as he emptied his stomach. A pair of strong, familiar arms encircled him and dragged him to the cuddy. The captain was soaking wet and furious.

“Paxton! Do you know how close you came to dying just now!?”

Paxton had dry heaves; he couldn’t focus on the words.

The captain gave him some Dramamine which he quickly vomited. Only after he swallowed a few Morphine pills was he able to keep down liquids. Paxton knew that the moment he was well, he would be required to service the thickening log in the captain’s pants.

The captain bent him over a chair and stripped him of his pants in a single yank. He hauled out his swollen cock and coated it with Vaseline. Paxton was relieved when the captain entered him without pain. He’d been at it with Erasmus so constantly, he had gained the ability to take a huge cock without flinching.

“Your roommate’s prepared you well, son.”

Paxton stifled a sigh. In and out, in and out, banging hard against his bladder, the captain’s cock slid inside Paxton like a hot knife through butter. Without any thought, Paxton raised a leg and let the captain push into his colon.

“Christ! Did I just rip you open?”

Paxton shook his head. Now that he was in all the way, the captain could give Paxton real pleasure. The old man went wild, exploring the new territory like a child at an amusement park. Paxton put on his best whore act. “Oh sir, you’re so powerful. You’re making me come.”

“You like that?”

“Uh huh.”

Paxton tugged on the meaty nipples to force an early release.

“Oh yeah. Here it comes!”

The first glob of sperm shot into Paxton just as a fierce knock came at the door. The captain ignored it; nobody disturbed him in the cuddy. Another hot load of come spurted up inside Paxton when the door opened. It was Rocky.

“Sir! You’re needed at the helm!”

“What is the meaning of this!” But Rocky didn’t get to answer; there was a terrible crash and the ship threw all three men violently to the floor.
 

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First Time for Everything
In the morning, a few minutes before breakfast, Paxton woke to find he had slept on Brick’s chest all night. His neck and back were stiff, but Brick’s smile loosened it all up for him. Paxton traced circles around the freckled nipples and got strong squeezes in return. He couldn’t see himself, but if he could, he would see a youth so beautiful, he made most women look haggard by comparison. Brick kissed him softly one, two, three times on the lips.

“I’m going to miss those lips when I’m gone.”

“Why do you have to get off in Rio, Brick?”

“My old lady phoned ship-to-shore. She’s in a family way and she needs me there.”

Paxton stiffened. He didn’t know Brick was married. “It was you that got her pregnant?”

Brick did math in the air, counting backwards. “Yep, that was the time.”

Paxton rubbed some of the dried semen from his neck. “You’re wasting this on me?”

Brick could see his bunkmate was agitated. He knew what would settle him down.

“Let me show you something,” he said.

Brick knelt down and put Paxton’s tiny cock and balls in his mouth. The younger man stiffened -- embarrassed and intrigued in equal measure.

“Wha- What are you doing, Brick?”

Brick’s mouth was too busy to answer. He stopped licking the miniscule meat to ask, “Do you like it?”

In answer, Paxton moaned. He pushed Brick’s lips back onto his tiny cock, leaned back on his elbows, and let the redheaded stud do his work.

‘This must be what fucking would feel like,’ he thought to himself, ‘If I ever could fuck.’

Brick detoured and licked the inside of Paxton’s thigh. He massaged it with his lips, sending shivers through him. He licked the perineum, applying pressure.

Paxton suddenly needed to piss - much more urgently than usual. He pulled Brick away from his crotch. The redhead leaned in and kissed him, but Paxton pushed him away.

“Brick, I gotta pee real bad.” Even as he said it, the urge was subsiding.

The experienced sailor was puzzled. “Pax, have you ever shot your load?”

“I can’t, it’s not big enough.”

“Who told you that? Look, I promise, if you have to “pee”, you just let loose in my mouth, on my head, anywhere you need to do it.” He went down again, licking and flicking the tiny penis.

Immediately, the urge to pee came back. Paxton panicked. “Oh fuck, Brick, I’m gonna pee now.”

Brick nodded. He kept tonguing the nub of flesh, then put it in his mouth like a nipple. His tongue circled and sucked the tiny sex organ.

Paxton prayed he wouldn’t pee in Brick’s mouth. He was groaning and fighting it. Suddenly, there was no holding back. But what came next wasn’t normal - It was like he was inside a cotton candy machine. His breath heaved, and his asshole twitched. Brick pulled back to let him see. A fountain of white sperm shot out of his tiny penis, hitting Brick in the eye. But there was more. He drew his breath and another load sprayed Brick’s hair, face, neck and chest. It kept coming. The third shot was the biggest yet. After that, the contractions in his ass grew less frequent, and the pumping from his little balls shot smaller drops of come. Brick sucked the last of it out of the young sailor’s dick. The two men grinned at each other.

“Damn, boy, where do you hide it all?”

Paxton blushed. “Did I just come?”

Brick nodded. He grabbed him and pulled his lips to his. They kissed like lovers. Paxton held back the tears. He didn’t want to lose the first man he gave his ass to. He couldn’t believe he could come like other men, despite his curse. If he let go of Brick, the man would see the tears. Paxton did his best to man up. When he regained control of his emotions, he let go. It was after 5:30, and they both needed a shower.
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Saloon

The contrast between the equatorial sunlight and the dark bar left Paxton temporarily blind upon first entering. The bartender, who was polishing a table, vaulted over the bar like an Olympian. The place was empty.

“Sorry, sir, It’s a bit early still.” He was British, with light brown hair and matching eyes. Paxton was a sucker for an English accent.

“What part of the Kingdom are you from?” he asked.

“Derby. Little city, not much happening.” The bartender did a backflip behind the bar. “What can I get you?”

Paxton was still numb from morphine. He examined at the bartender’s hands.

“You’re not married?”

The man blushed. “Do you know what sort of place this is?”

“I do now.” Paxton sat facing him. “I’ll have your local special.”

“Caipirinha.” The bartender grabbed some rather dusty supplies.

“What’s that?”

“Cachaça, sugar and lime.” He poured a clear tonic over the sugar cubes, then squeezed a lime and sprinkled some powdered sugar into the cocktail. “Taste it.”

Paxton had a few sips, then downed a big swig. “This is incredible.”

“Thanks. May I ask, the way you’re dressed, are you a sailor?”

“I’m OS - an ordinary seaman.”

The bartender grinned. “You’re American, but from where? I don’t know the accent.”

“N’Awlins,” Pax exaggerated the accent, to the delight of his new admirer.

“I’m Donald, by the way.” He extended a well-manicured hand.

“Paxton Smalls, at your service.” He saluted. The morphine and drink were a powerful combination.

“At my service, he says? Do you have a menu?” He topped off Paxton’s glass.

Paxton sized up Donald. He remembered his gymnast’s leaps over the bar. He checked below his waist. Nothing remarkable stood out, but it was hard to tell with linen.

Donald lifted the hinged countertop. Paxton joined him behind the bar.

While the sailor greedily explored the sinewy curves hidden under linen, Donald focused intensely on Paxton’s best asset. The barman put his hand down the back of hiss dungarees, inserted his finger into the loose hole, and held it to his nose. He sniffed the perfume, then put it in his mouth. “Fresh come. You’ve been busy.”

Paxton roved along the tight muscles, making his way eventually to the thighs. Nothing hung down - Donald was not one of the big boys. But Paxton found a decent cock standing at attention under the summer fabric. He rubbed it a few times. It was not going to do much damage.

“What time do you get off? Paxton asked.

“Right now.” The barman guided him to his knees. “You’re young. Do you know how to--”

He couldn’t finish his sentence before Paxton had swallowed his entire cock.

Donald was a nimble gymnast. He stood on the second shelf and used his arms to push up from the bar. He plunged into Paxton’s greedy mouth.

The effects of the Caipirinha were strong enough to melt the walls. The young sailor stood up and steadied himself against the bar.

“What did you put in my—?” But Paxton never finished his sentence. After a crushing blow to the back of his head, he watched the floor rise up to meet his chin.


Back to the Cuddy
Paxton woke up to Brick and Rocky carrying him by his arms and legs along the Praia Iracema towards the docks at Mucuripe.

“What’s going on?”

“You got mugged.”

“Is Donald okay? Was he hurt?”

“Who?”

“Donald, the bartender.”

“Curzon has been closed for years. There’s no bartender, Pax.” Rocky set him on a park bench.

“Then, who was that?”

“Probably the man who stole your wallet. Did he get your passport?”

Paxton kept that in his underwear, next to his small parts, because no man ever went there. It was still there. He held it aloft.

“That would have been a real problem,” Brick said. “How much did he get?”

“Not much. I left most of my money in -- well where I leave it.”

Rocky held his chin. “You don’t know how lucky you are. Brazil is a dangerous place, and Fortaleza is the most dangerous of all the cities.”

“More than Sao Paulo?”

“It’s the docks. It’s just a rough town. How’s your head. Is it bleeding?”

It was. But Paxton felt fine. The morphine was a long, steady cushion between all types of pain.

“I just need a little morphine, I’ll be right as rain.”

“Morphine?” The Third Officer was annoyed.

“Yeah...the captain is, well, he does a lot of damage.”

Brick stayed quiet. He was high on the same stuff, and didn’t need Rocky sanctioning him.

“I wonder why Mateus directed me to Curzon? Wouldn’t he know it was closed?”

“My guess he was part of the con,” Rocky reasoned.

Brick cleared his throat. “Let’s get a carro.”

“Mateus said to get a Ka-hoo.”

“Brick chuckled. Same thing. That’s how they say it in Brazil.”

A carro turned out to be a horse and carriage, fighting its way through modern traffic. The carrro cost a fraction of a taxicab. Unlike taxi drivers, the carro driver was trustworthy and kind.

Paxton’s head was a bruised watermelon by the time he boarded ship. He took two capfuls of Morphine and drifted off to sleep.

When Paxton regained consciousness, he was In the cuddy. The morphine could no longer protect him from the pain that encircled his skull.

The captain appeared in his foggy field of vision. He smiled like a priest might smile at a choirboy. “You have a lump on the back of your head. It’s bigger than your dick.

Paxton groaned. “That doesn’t sound too serious.”

“You could fuck someone with it.” There was a bead of sweat trickling down his brow.

“Why am I in your cuddy and not the hospital?”

“I prefer our doctor. He’s more...familiar with the way a merchant marine operates.”

“When will he be here?”

“He came already, you don’t remember?”

Paxton shook his head and winced.

“He said to keep an eye on you for signs of brain swelling. Brick’s got the first watch.

The captain closed the door on his way out. Brick leaned forward into Paxton’s field of vision. “Hey, Kid. Feeling better?”

“Better than what?”

“Better than last night.”

Paxton shook his head, slowly this time. “I got mugged, right?”

Brick nodded. “We got you back in one piece. You’ll be sore for a while, but you’ll make it.”

“Why didn’t the doctor wake me up?”

Brick frowned. “There was no doctor, I’m afraid.”

“Why not?”

“The medic would have sent you to the hospital, then the captain might have lost his rank over this. One look at your stretched asshole and the hospital could file charges against anyone you named.”

“It ain’t illegal in Brazil.”

“Maritime law is complicated.”

Paxton frowned. “I would never give anyone up.”

“With what the captain’s packing, he’d be the prime suspect.”

“I don’t get why it’s even a crime.”

Brick smiled. “It boils down to some lines in the Bible that lawmakers cling to out of all proportion to others. I don’t know why.”

It was near sunset. “How long have I been out? It’s nearly dark.”

“You slept a long time, Pax.”

“I’m starved. You got something to eat?”

Brick produced a covered bowl from the captain’s desk.

“George brought this for you about an hour ago. It’s still warm.”

Paxton lifted the cover and was greeted by a tantalizing aroma. It was a blend of onions, greens, garlic, and an oily chicken broth. As he dipped cornbread into the stew, he discovered thick slices of sausage. With each bite, Paxton’s strength returned. It hurt his ribs to raise the spoon. It didn’t matter; the soup’s savory goodness outweighed his bodily pain.

Brick leaned over and whispered, “The captain is just making sure you’re well enough for him to fuck. He can’t wait a fucking day.”

Paxton propped himself on his elbows. “How will he know when I’m ready?”

“He’s asked me to warm you up.”

Paxton guffawed. “That’s the difference between a spoon and a shovel! No offense, Brick.”

“No, you’re right. He’s half crazed over you. I’ll just tell him you weren’t ready.”

“But Brick, tonight could be our last night together before Rio. I want you to fuck me,”

Brick gently pulled the young man by the legs, draping them over his freckled shoulders. He wiped spit and petroleum jelly on the perfect asshole.

Paxton grinned. “Fuck me.”

Brick’s small cock entered him effortlessly. They each exhaled a loud sigh. Brick was not big, but he had a magnificent technique that no big cock could ever hope to rival. He stayed pressed against the boy’s backside so as not to fall out. He shoved and jammed his way into Paxton’s rectum, pressing against his Cowper’s glands. A clear, steady stream of sticky fluid oozed from Paxton’s tiny penis.

The younger sailor moaned. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

Brick stopped short, “Am I hurting you? God, I’m sorry.”

Paxton shook his head. “It’s not that, Brick. You made me love you, and soon you’ll be gone. Who will protect me?”

Brick intensified his powerful thrusts. “Don’t worry kid, Rocky’s got your back. And if Erasmus replaces me, he’ll protect you to the death on my mere say-so.” Never losing a beat, he wiped the tears from his bunkmate’s face. It didn’t work. They returned in a downpour.

Paxton knew his tears would make Brick soft, but he couldn’t control them.

“Kid, I had no idea you were so sweet on me. It almost makes me wish I’d never met my wife and had those kids.”

“Leave her.”

Brick stopped thrusting abruptly. “That isn’t funny.”

“It’s not supposed to be.”

Brick pulled out. “I’ll tell the captain you’re still too banged up for sex.”

“No! Brick, wait!” He left the cuddy. Paxton was alone with his thoughts.They were bad and his emotions were worse. The huge lump on the back of his head throbbed. Carefully, he got to his feet and rifled through the captain’s dresser. In the sock drawer he found five bottles of morphine tablets. He took three tablets from each bottle before returning it to the drawer. He swallowed two and washed them down with a glass of scotch.

Within ten minutes, the effects of the scotch grew stronger, and then the pain relief kicked in. Sad, lonely, and high, Paxton drifted off to sleep.
 

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Make-Up Sex
In the morning Paxton popped two pills and joined the crew at breakfast.

He was astonished at how happy they were to see him. The men were careful not to hug him or clap them on the back. They touched his shoulder or patted his rump. The gentle hands brushing his skin in combination with morphine was enough to send him into bliss. They could never tell, but he had an erection under his white sailor pants. A spot formed, giving him away. He was careful to keep his hand hitched to his pocket to cover the wet stain.

Trip brought Paxton a tray of breakfast. George had slipped in some Portuguese sausage to make the meal special.

Brick was the only sailor sitting out the little welcome party. He ate in the corner of the mess. As soon as Paxton could break away he went to the room. Brick was moping on the bottom bunk.

“Hey,” Paxton tested the waters.

Brick heaved a sigh. “Hi.”

“I’m sorry about what I said. I know your family means the world to you. I’m just a friend.“

Brick grunted. His frown remained.

“Even though you have more important people to care for, I need you to know how important you’ve been to me. You taught me how to get fucked. You made me come for the first time in my life. You showed me who and what I am, for Christ’s sake.”

Brick looked up. “And?”

“And I don’t want our last day together to be a piece of shit.”

Brick’s lips curled into a smile. “How do you propose to turn it around?”

“Since you’re already on my bed, scoot over.”

Paxton lowered his pants and lay on his side. Brick whistled.

“Your ass gets me hard just looking at it.” He spit into his cupped hand. He wiped Paxton’s hole to make it slick. In seconds, he was inside thrusting his rock hard cock in and out in a slow, steady rhythm. He planted his lips on the boy’s neckline and sucked his skin, leaving little welts. His freckled skin glistened with sweat. The morning had just begun, but the temperature soared.

Brick reached one arm around and held Paxton’s teat between his thumb and forefinger. On each inward thrust he pinched hard, releasing on the out stroke. His perfect little penis pressed in all the right places. Paxton moaned in soft assent. Brick reached between the sailor’s legs and found the tiny mound of flesh there. He massaged it. Paxton’s moans became howls. He greedily devoured his three course meal of ass, nipple, and genital stimulation.

For dessert, Brick ran his stubble along the skin where the neck meets the shoulder, kissing it in tiny droplets. Spasms of pleasure caused Paxton to writhe and kick. His writhing in turn caused the redhead’s cock to swell further.

The spasms grew more frequent, as Paxton built toward a full body orgasm. Brick was big and powerful when stroking Paxton’s tiny penis. It gushed clear pre-come all over his hand. He put it to his lips and sniffed before tasting. It smelled like pussy juice. He greedily gulped it down.

Paxton couldn’t stay quiet. The seizures that spread deep, intense pleasure from the knot on his head to his pinky toe grew more powerful.

“Yes! Yes! Oh! Yes!” All the noise was bound to attract attention.

Brick’s breath grew shallow and rapid. When he had licked the fingers clean he put his hand between Paxton’s legs again. Paxton stared over his shoulder at his roommate; their eyes locked. Silently, each let the other know it was time.

Brick planted his lips on Paxton’s, pressing his tongue deep. He swabbed the back of the lad’s throat. If he could force it deeper he would have. Their eyes closed. A strong love washed over them, different from love of family or brothers. It was the love of a dear friend whom you knew you might never see again. Their love was the sensation that overturned the bucket. Paxton’s tiny penis shot a long white rope that flew between Brick’s fingers to splatter on the wall opposite. He rubbed gently to coax out more and more come in warm, wet missiles.

Brick was churning up a warm salty brew of his own. When Paxton shot like a tiny gun and spasmed against his hips and belly, it brought the redhead to orgasm. He panted, releasing a flood of semen. The sphincter muscles, not yet destroyed by the captain, became a hand milking an udder. Each contraction caused him to dump another gob of semen inside Paxton. Despite there being plenty of spare room inside the rectum, Brick’s sperm overflowed and sprayed out the hole and onto his freckled belly in violent spurts. It took nine pulses before his balls were drained of semen.
 

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Two small chapters cam be just as good as one big chapter...

Sick Bay

Paxton could hardly feel Brick after the captain, but he always knew when his loose hole had brought the redhead to climax. Thick rivulets ran down his leg. All this work was outside of his normal job, and exhaustion set in. The captain ordered him to the ship’s medic. There, he was given an unusual exam involving manual insertion into his rectal cavity.

“I already told you, Doc, I’ve been giving it away day and night. You’ll find plenty of signs of wear and tear.”

The doctor shone a flashlight through the back of his hospital gown and down his hole. “Son, you’re fine. You just aren’t getting enough sleep. You need a day or two to catch up on sleep. The captain requested you use his cuddy for privacy.”

A knot of dread formed in Pax’s stomach. He wouldn’t get any rest at all.

“Listen, Doc, is there a bed up here in Sick Bay?”

“Well yes, it’s not very comfortable.”

“Can you tell the captain I need a couple days in isolation to be sure I ain’t got the Dengue Fever?”

The middle-aged medic mopped his brow. “Son, it will be a terrible temptation having you here with me.”

Paxton looked at the man’s trousers. Nothing special. “Give in to temptation if you must.”

The doctor was very gentle. He had studied surgery. His delicate touch was a new sensation for Paxton. He was used to being needed so bad that the caresses became greedy and strong. Not so with the medic. He lightly touched all the beautiful places on the young sailor. His hand brushed his nipples so softly, Paxton thought he’d dreamed it.

The doctor kissed Paxton like a butterfly landing on a magnolia blossom.

The fucking was gentle, too. The doctor was big, but not extremely so. He entered Paxton with mechanical precision. When he came, it was restrained. The doctor inhaled, held it, then let go softly, throbbing inside Paxton, coating him with a soft spray of semen. More butterfly kisses and it was over.

“Will you tell the captain I’m sick?”

“Yes.”

“But do it in a way where he doesn’t suspect anything.”

“He’s a suspicious man. But, okay.”

For two glorious days, Paxton slept. He was interrupted occasionally by the doctor, but nobody got to visit because of the fear of contagion. It was brilliant. The doc was a vacation from extremes. He was neither tiny nor tremendous. He was Goldilocks sized. The doctor justified his rutting sessions as “treatments.” To that end, he coated his prick with a homemade jelly containing cocaine and mercurochrome. It eased the burning, and helped the torn areas repair themselves. He wished the vacation could have lasted for weeks, but they were about to arrive in Fortaleza. The doctor sent him home with a medicine chest of remedies: oral morphine for pain, cod oil suppositories, and a whole tin of Amyl Nitrite.

Brick walked in while he was putting away the stash.

“Morphine? Man!”

“You want some?” Paxton held up the bottle.

“You first,” Brick insisted.

The cadet poured out a capful and swallowed it, nearly choking on the nasty flavor. “Oh, that’s vile!”

“Just wait.” Brick took a capful, and an extra swig.


High As a Kite
It would be hard to say when the medicine blasted its way through their consciousness, but they were definitely still at sea when it started. Several horn blasts signaled their arrival. Fortaleza was a city of over half a million. It was the closest port to the Amazon, and all the trucks brought goods from up and down the river. American Cotton was in high demand, so that was the first to be unloaded. Here the stevedores were short and muscled. They whistled appreciation for Paxton’s naturally tall, slender body. He blushed and smiled, which only made them chase him more. One charmer used his best English. He held Paxton’s elbow.

“You come see the warehouse?” His accent was funny, like he was talking through his nose.

“I don’t know. What’s in the warehouse?”

The short, handsome man reached down and tugged on his bulky meat. “I’m Mateus.”

“I’m Paxton and I’m stoned out of my mind on morphine!” He laughed, but Mateus only smiled. He didn’t get it.

Before long, they were in a warehouse full of liquor, rubber, coffee and Brazil nuts. Mateus was strong. He lifted Paxton onto a sack of coffee beans, and held his legs aloft. He planted his mouth on Paxton’s hole, slurping and licking with gusto. Mateus was not gentle. He was rough and strong. When he had slicked up Paxton’s ass, he pulled out a billy club of a cock. It wasn’t as long as Rocky, but it was thicker than the captain. It was the size and shape of a can of Bohemia. Mateus expected the usual cries of protest, but Paxton welcomed him inside with ease. The morphine made it easy to ignore the ripping flesh. There was blood, but it didn’t hurt. Mateus paused.

“Is okay?”

“Fuck me.” Paxton surprised the Brazilian muscle man. He pulled hard, forcing Mateus inside him until his balls smacked his butt cheeks.

“Porra!” Mateus was astonished. Never had a man or woman taken all of him so quickly and easily.

“Damn you’re so fucking thick!” Paxton threw his head back, moaning with delight. “Fuck me!”

Mateus had powerful thighs. He pumped his meat forcefully into the young sailor. Paxton writhed and squirmed at the assault on his anus.

Mateus held Paxton down by pressing on his belly. He ravaged the hole until it was stretched and sloppy.

Paxton couldn’t ejaculate on Morphine, but he could come like a woman. His body shook with anal orgasm.

“Oooooohhhh!” Paxton’s holler reverberated through the empty warehouse. Mateus continued his assault on Paxton’s ass. The sailor’s anal orgasms caused tight spasms that massaged the stevedore’s thick meat.

“Unnnh!” Mateus was close. “I come.”

“Inside me. Fill me up.”

Mateus didn’t speak a lot of English, but he understood that command. In giant spurts, he emptied his balls into the American sailor.

Paxton leaned in to kiss the stevedore, but he pulled away. With a violent popping sound, the barrel-chested Brazilian yanked his chunky cock out of the boy’s ass, leaving webs of come in its wake. The coffee bags were slick with spit and come.

With his powerful arms, Mateus lifted Paxton to his feet.

“Thank you for I fuck you.”

His awkward English was charming.

“You’re welcome.” He tried to kiss his Brazilian companion, but Mateus pulled away.

“I kiss only women. But you are, eh, a maravilhoso ass.”

Mateus was a wonderful introduction to Fortaleza. He was able to explain in broken English that the name Fortaleza means fortress, but also strength. Pax squeezed the stevedore’s giant arm and smiled. “They weren’t kidding.”

Mateus had to get back to his wife and kids. His shift had been over for at least an hour; they would worry.

“Is Fortaleza dangerous?”

“It is most dangerous city in all of Brazil. Stay by docks; you are safe.”

How dangerous could such a beautiful city really be? Pax was still reeling from the morphine, and he yearned to shake off his legs and see something other than a grey metal wall full of rivets. “Mateus, can I walk with you towards town?”

“Yes, but take ka-hoo back to ship.”

“Ka-hoo, okay.”

On land, the attention of men is not always directed towards potential partners. Strong, handsome men paid no attention to Paxton’s graceful body. A few did notice him walking the strand with the handsome stevedore; they kept their distance. Mateus looked like he could tear them in two.

“If they only knew how gentle he is,” Paxton thought to himself.

The beach ended at a plaza with several towers and fortresses. Mateus pointed towards the colorful plaza.

“Heart of the city.”

“Will you stay?” There were far more suspicious people lurking than Paxton had imagined.

Mateus pointed to his wrist and shook his head.

“Malandros.” He gestured at the sprinkling of thugs that peppered the square. “Policia, en nenhuma parte. Dangerous.”

Paxton still had twelve hours to enjoy dry land. He was not going to let these ne’er-do-wells ruin his shore leave. Just before Mateus parted ways, he pointed to a saloon called “Curzon.” Pax thanked the man, who said “Oh-bray-god-do” back to him.
 

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False Imprisonment
The two men held each other lovingly, spoon fashion. Paxton wished it would last a lifetime, but it was only a matter of three or four seconds before their union was shattered by a loud clapping. The captain stood in the doorway, his monstrous cock throbbing down his right leg.

“Bravo, gentlemen. Color me impressed.”

Paxton froze. Was he in trouble? Worse, was Brick in trouble? His head flooded with dozens of horrible outcomes. He chose to save Brick.

“I’m ready now, sir.” He turned to Brick. “Thanks, man. I needed a warm-up before he tears me in two with that monster.”

The captain rubbed his right thigh and chuckled. “Good work, Brick. Now grab a holystone and scrub the poop deck. I need this young man’s hole.”

Brick gave a smile that contained a thousand words. He was grateful for Paxton’s quick thinking and sacrifice. He was going to miss Paxton. The sex was great. It would never happen again. This was goodbye.

Brick saluted and left the room.

The captain grinned. “You ready for this?” He grabbed the log of flesh for emphasis. He escorted Paxton back to the makeshift sex prison called the cuddy.

Paxton was trapped. He dropped his trousers and presented his dripping hole.

The captain was gentle. He knew Paxton had many bruises and bumps. He was greedy and lustful, but he wasn’t a devil. He kissed and licked his exposed asshole, then stood.

“You’re not to leave this room unless I say so.”

To emphasize his point, he turned the key in the lock and put it in his pocket.

“But Sir, how will I get out if the ship is sinking?”

“Do you think I’m such a bad captain that I’ll sink this ship?”

Paxton shook his head.

“Good. Because I have a big ship that hasn’t docked in days. I’m going to open the port.”

He produced a tub of Albolene and with a wave of his hand, commanded Paxton to spread it on his hole.

Images and desires collided in Paxton’s head. The captain’s cock was the thickest, if not quite the longest he had ever seen. But it was rock hard. It was like being fucked by a wine bottle. There was no give. He could fill his rectum, but he couldn’t go where George had been, so the secret room remained empty. The captain was strong, powerful, and virile. He made Paxton feel like a little girl. But the captain’s kisses tasted strange. He was much older, perhaps more than twice Paxton’s age. He earned a lot of money. If he brought Paxton ashore, he would spoil him with expensive gifts and fancy meals. Paxton should love this handsome man and lust for his huge insatiable cock, but he didn’t. ‘It’s something I could get used to,’ he told himself. Having known love or a close facsimile with Brick, he knew he was lying to himself. The captain was not a man he could ever love. And now he was locked in the cuddy, a concubine or worse.

“Hey! Where did you go?”

Paxton saluted. The captain chuckled.

“At ease, sailor. I need you nice and relaxed.”

The captain unbuckled his white trousers and pushed them towards his knees. His hard cock made it difficult.

“Can I get a hand here?”

The captain put his hands on his hips while Paxton struggled to work the massive cock out of the pant leg. When at last he set it free, the cock sprang up and clipped Paxton’s chin.

“Suck it.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. Do your best. Just lick the tip if that’s all you can handle.”

Paxton was turned on in spite of himself. The captain’s gravity defying cock pointed skyward above Paxton’s Head. It already leaked pre-come from the tip. The size and stony hardness proved there was art in nature. It was a carved statue in flesh. The solid head peeked out of the soft foreskin. Paxton raised from a sitting to a standing kneel to reach the zenith.

He licked the salty head and worked his tongue under the foreskin, circling the colossal head in wide strokes. He wrapped one arm around the log of flesh to steady himself.

“Can you suck it?” The captain sounded like a child whining for a corn dog at the carnival.

Paxton clamped his mouth over the top of the head. It was comical, like a lamprey clamped to a much bigger fish.

The captain, careful to avoid the swollen bump, pressed hard on Paxton’s head, forcing more and more of his cock into his mouth. The stretch was so severe, he the corners of his mouth tore. He wrapped his lips over his teeth to keep the cock from getting scraped up.

Suddenly, the captain bucked his hips forward, burying himself deep. The cockhead tore its way past Paxton’s tonsils and landed deep in his esophagus. The older man sighed with contentment, but Paxton couldn’t breathe. He coughed and retched until the cock and a load of clear thick saliva forced its way out of his mouth. The captain caught it in his palm and rubbed it on his cock.

“I juiced you. Now it’ll be smooth. Ready for more?”

Paxton nodded. The goopy saliva acted as a lubricant, allowing the captain to slide in and out of Paxton’s throat with ease. Paxton’s eyes watered. The salty tears burned the wounds on the corners of his mouth. It was impossible to keep from retching. Each time he gagged, the captain smacked him on the cheek.

“No more of that now. You love my big cock in your mouth, don’t you?”

Paxton nodded.

“Say it.” He pulled out.

“I love your big cock in my mouth.” Paxton’s larynx was bruised, so the words came out in a hoarse whisper.

He plunged past the tonsils again and remained there, choking him.

“Do you want it in your ass?”

Paxton was ashamed how badly he wanted it. He nodded, and the captain pulled out, his cock covered in curtains of thick saliva.

“Let me see your hole.”

Paxton presented his hole to the captain like a cat in heat. Anything to keep it out of his mouth. His throat was on fire worse than the time he got mumps.

“Spread it.”

Paxton held his cheeks apart to show off his asshole. Brick’s semen oozed out, dripping down his balls.

The captain snorted, “Is that your roommate’s pecker juice?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Between that, the Albolene, and your throat spit, we’re gonna have a smooth ride.”

It was smooth. Paxton was relieved when the massive meat slid easily into his ass. Nothing tore, and he could breathe. He was used to the captain’s hardness and girth. He even liked the way he kept hitting the back of his rectum. He looked over his shoulder and saw the captain playing with his own teats. He twisted them. They sprouted gray hairs.

“You have such a pretty face. Lie on your back for me will you?”

Paxton rotated, skewered by the captain, until they faced each other. The old man hunched over and pressed his cigar stained mustache to Paxton’s lips in a passionate kiss.

Paxton took his tongue into his mouth and let him lick his teeth and the roof of his mouth. After his kiss with Brick, it was empty. But he pretended to like it.

The captain pulled his cock out and pushed Paxton’s cheeks apart. The girth made his hole stay open like a wishing well. He blew air in it. Paxton writhed in ecstasy. He plugged it back up with his giant cork and fucked hard. Paxton’s head hit the wall a few times before the captain realized what he was doing.

Paxton didn’t care. He had crossed an invisible hurdle, loving the sensation of being filled and stretched. Sex was good, no matter how he felt about the guy fucking him. He needed the captain to fill him with his come. He reached up like an infant reaching for his mother until his hands clamped over the old man’s nipples. He twisted them hard.

“You’re gonna make me come!”

“That’s the idea, isn’t it?”

“I wanna come down your throat.”

Paxton smiled to cover his fear and disappointment.

The captain pulled out and rammed his ass-stained cock down Paxton’s throat. In this position, he was pinned to the bed, a butterfly on a spreading board. He couldn’t stop the captain from choking him. Luckily, the old man knew how to fuck a throat. Paxton coughed up sputum so hard, it flew out his nose. He tasted his own ass juices, which made him retch again. But soon, the captain was sliding in and out of Paxton’s throat without a cough or retch. Paxton accepted the captain all the way, so his pubic hairs were smashed against his nose. He stayed there, taking little short strokes, softly growling.

Paxton couldn’t breathe, but that only made him more excited. His throat belonged to the captain. He reached up and twisted the captain’s nipples.

“Oh shit!” The captain staggered backwards, giving Paxton a chance to breathe before the captain leaned in and started pounding furiously. Paxton didn’t enjoy his throat stretched and filled. He preferred to have his ass stuffed. But his mouth being used as a fuckhole was exciting. The captain controlled everything: his breath, the depth he plowed, the place he would leave his sperm.

“Get ready!”

Paxton coughed as the first load landed deep in his throat. By the time the second burst erupted, the massive cock was pointed at Paxton’s mouth. It had been a couple of days and the captain was full of built up semen. That second burst landed in a huge splash across Paxton’s face. He swallowed and licked what he could as two more pumps came. Then the captain went all the way to the balls down his throat and fired several more nourishing bullets of semen before withdrawing. He collapsed beside Paxton, out of breath.

“You’re my prisoner now; remember that.”

“Yes, sir.” Paxton felt his control over the Captain slip away. He was locked in a gilded cage.

And he remained a prisoner until they got to Rio, where everything changed.
 
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