Pirate's Tail

As I lay, stretched out, on my belly on the platform, Ajit covered me from every direction from behind and on top. He fucked me in the position of the dog from every angle, reaching deeper inside me each time, each time thrusting more vigorously, moving his cock inside me so as to caress all sides of the walls. And my walls were responding, melting, and opening to him. He fucked me from the sides and he even hooked his feet on my shoulders and grasped my ankles with his hands and fucked me in reverse, rocking me back and forth, pushing his shaft against all sides of the walls, teasing them to open for him.

I took him, exhilarating at being liberated at last, but I kept my eye on Rao as he worked his own cock, keeping it large, obviously planning to have another go at me.

"I think now," Ajit said. "I think he will receive you now." I felt his weight come off me. He hadn't come. No doubt Rao had told him Rao was the first one to have the privilege to do that deep inside me. I began to hyperventilate as Rao came up onto the platform, turned me face up and gathered me up in his arms, pushed his massive thighs under my buttocks, which lifted and angled my pelvis to him, and once more began to work his massive cock inside me. This time he gained entry and this time when his bulb cleared my sphincter, I remembered what he had murmured to me on technique. My channel grabbed the bulb and pulled it inside. He laughed.

Slowly, slowly my walls gave way to him and he was deep inside me. Taking my mouth in his in a kiss then, he began to move in and out inside me, slowly pumping me, each stroke taking him deeper, as I panted hard, clutched at his shoulder blades and then his plump buttocks to keep him deep inside and felt my walls melt and shimmer. He whispered further instructions in my ear, I heeded them, and, like a bank vault door rolling open when the right combination is given, my walls dilated and the muscles of my channel began to caress the invading cock. Rao groaned his appreciation for the success of my efforts. There was still pain, massive pain in keeping with the size of the man, but I could readily understand the pleasure of it too—and was confident that the pleasure would supersede the pain in time—and with a less demanding cock.

I had already come before he did as well, registering surprise, as he apparently came before he'd gotten the full measure of pleasure out of me he had sought.

"Oh well, the next time and the time after that," he said as he pulled out of me. I lay there, fully open to him or to anyone else who would appear. Ajit was standing off to the side. I sensed that he would take me again if Rao gave him permission.

"Do you want me to keep him open as you prepare for the next?" Ajit asked.

"No. Go get the rest of his clothes," Rao answered him. "We will take him back to the Devi. I wish to use what I have taught him at greater length."

"You have the use of him for the night?"

"The merchant doesn't want him back until Sunday evening. I will get much use out of him before then."

I groaned. What the hell is "the Devi," I wondered. I found that it was his ship, a beautiful and meticulously cared-for four-masted barque riding the waves just outside the entrance to the Cape Town harbor.

Hertzog hadn't been anywhere to be seen when Captain Rao and Ajit guided me out of the tavern. Rao's explanation was, "He has given me the weekend to break you in."

So that wasn't just bravado about riding me for two days.

Break me in Rao did, laying me gently on my back on his massive bed in the barque's captain's cabin when we were rowed out to the ship, and then laying me at greater length and with a bit more vigor than he had in the tavern, laying between my legs and pressing me into the feather bedding. Whispering again of the magic of mind control that could allow me to open my passage to him, he sank deep inside me and moved in and out as my channel muscles glistened over his hard shaft. He came in a flood of semen, this time deep inside me. I was no vestige of a virgin anymore.

"Now you," he whispered, "Show me that you are mine." He held motionless, his cock deep inside me, a hard, thick, possessing obelisk. "Now, show me what you can do, what you have learned." He gave a low laugh as I began moving my pelvis, rising and falling on the cock by my own effort, fucking myself on the shaft. Moving quicker and quicker, crying out in passion, and collapsing in ejaculation.

Later he held me in his lap, on his cock, facing him, as he pulled me on and off the staff and then on his lap facing away from him, commanding me this time to fuck myself on the cock. I did so, happily. Later, screwed to his pelvis, my legs hooked on his thighs and his hands gripping the small of my back, he walked around the cabin and bounced me up and down on his cock.

Then he taught me the art of the suck, following his example with me—how to kiss down his body as he lay on his back, my fingers playing in the black curls of his pubic hair until they encircled and tightened over the base of his cock, feeling him engorge to my touch. My body was curled on his with his fingers working through the reddish-blond curly hair of my own pubes, guiding me, without words, on what I should be doing with him, playing in the pubic hair and then curling fingers around the base of the cock and applying pressure to hasten and enhance the engorging of the shaft.

Opening my mouth over the glans as he moaned softly, encouraging me with a "Yes, yes, like that. But slowly, gently." Pulling the foreskin down off the bulb and licking the glans and darting my tongue in and out of his urethra. Feeling him shudder to my touch, and then continuing down the sides of the shaft, taking him deep inside my throat, until, holding my head between his hands, he began to move, first small penetrations and retreats and then, holding me more forcefully, picking up speed and intensity, as I gagged. But I was learning to take him, deeper and faster, learning how to sheath the cock in my mouth to allow it maximum penetration and the least pain, until, with a little cry, he bathed my tonsils with his seed, fell back on the bed, and sighed his pleasure and approval.

He held me to him, my cheek on his thigh, his shaft laying over on its side across my mouth, as I opened my lips to it and licked up and down the side, waiting for it to reengorge. And then at his murmured, "Again," moved my face over his loins, brushed my reddish-gold curls out of the way to the side, and took the cock in my mouth. Again and again as the twilight turned to darkness and until he declared me a master, pulled me over him with the strength of his hands on my arms, settled my channel on the cock, and once more began the long slide leading to the vigorous pumping.

"You can take it with the best of them now," he eventually said, and I felt as much pride in him saying that as he did.

Later still, he taught me how to maintain one rhythm in sucking his cock while Ajit was behind me, plowing me to another, more vigorous rhythm.

By Sunday morning, when he handed me back into the small boat to be returned to the Cape Town dock, I was completely undone and vanquished. He had had me repeatedly, in both orifices, I was reamed to his specifications, I was feeling more pleasure than pain in the fuck, and I didn't want to leave him.

"We will be together again," he said. "You are a sweet lay."

"And I am yours," I said.

"That is not true," he surprisingly countered with. "I will use you from time to time, but I have not covered you the past two days to take on a lover. I have been paid good money by your master, Fons Hertzog, to break you down and train you to the serve the cock with your ass and your mouth. He is your master. You will be expected to be his when you return to him to do as he likes with you."

I had to give him respect for his honesty, but in what was left of my innocence I had to believe that there was something more binding between the two of us than just a business service for Hertzog. To be honest with myself, however, I didn't really deny Hertzog his rights and I was relieved to be rid of my virginity and to have had some training in the arts of man-to-man sex.

I was a bit melancholy at this parting. I was sure that he felt something when he was with me. He couldn't be that cold blooded about what we had done together.

* * * *

Hertzog was out attending Sunday services when I returned, tottering gingerly to his house. I understood why I had been given to Rao in this way. And I recognized what my duty was to my master, Fons Hertzog. When the Dutchman passed by my bed chamber door, male servant in tow, on his way to his bath later in the day, I was lying on my back on my bed, my legs open, my now-open anus pointed at the chamber door, my cock in my hand. He did a double take in the corridor when he saw me, but he smiled, waved the servant away, entered the chamber, sank down on his knees at the foot of the bed, and moved his mouth and tongue to my ass. He too did not question that he could have me by right—and he had shown great forbearance and regard for me—although more likely for my deputy governor-general father—in that he had not forced me in a first taking by right but had turned me over to another man for initiation and preparation.

"I want—" he said as he hovered over me, clearly wanting to be inside me.

"Do whatever you want with me," I said. "I accept that it is your right."

He almost crushed me with his big belly pressing into my stomach, lying on top of me between my legs and fucking me in thick jabs. His rutting—it could be called nothing more romantic—as he wheezed and slobbered on my face in his exertions of off-rhythm, belabored thrusting inside me was nothing like Rao's melting lovemaking, but it was clear that my body, my asshole and passage, was what Hertzog was paying for—why he was teaching me what he was about his trade and setting me up for life in that way.

And it didn't stop him from ejaculating inside me in three frenzied bursts of seed.

I could not deny that he worshipped my body—he certainly fondled and prodded it enough. Only that he was crass and gross in going about it. I'm afraid that my father had been swayed more by the importance of the merchant than by his desirability and sensitivity in choosing Hertzog for my master. Hertzog easily lost control and constantly had to be begged not to mangle my bones with his fat, hairy body and to give me more time before penetrating and jabbing at me with his thick staff. He often was so anxious to cover me that he loosed his seed between my thighs even before he worked his cock inside me.

Later that Sunday, when we were both in the bath, he pulled me to and on top of him, grasping my waist between his fat hands; penetrated me again with his cock; and I rode him to another mutual ejaculation. This was a better position for me than him lying between my open thighs; I was not being pressed and crushed by that big belly of his and his spittle was not falling on my face as he rutted on me.

It wasn't that my master covered and seeded me. This was to be tolerated.

After being initiated by the talented Rao and his compatriot, I felt no reticence or embarrassment to be covered by men. I had recognized that it was in my nature, that it was not only tolerated but also expected of me in my circle of living, and that there need be no impediment or disgrace to it as long as it were conducted with discretion and just within a circle of like-minded men. My father accepted it—indeed, embraced it himself—and signaled his wishes for me by having turned me over to apprentice with Fons Hertzog. My father knew what Hertzog demanded of an apprentice in his business, but I think he overestimated Hertzog as a lover for me. Once there, I was merely following custom. An apprentice serves at the whim of his master and the other young men in Hertzog's house and employ were doing the same.

It was just my luck that Hertzog preferred me to all others under his control.

It was Hertzog himself who gave me pause. Sex with him, unless in his bath, was like rutting with a sweaty, smelly pig. His obesity, his intent on dressing in a hot, confining European fashion more tolerable in London than Cape Town, and the snorting noises he made in sex made lying under him more an endurance than a pleasure. To offset that, though, he had a thick cock that could please once your passage had been trained to it—when you held your eyes and nose closed and as long as he was content to fuck from behind with me bent over—bringing forth the images of a pig in rut—or if he wallowed on his back and I rode him.

I could tolerate this, but he was no Rao. After lying under Rao, I no longer had any inhibitions to being covered by a man. And I wanted to do so as often as I could obtain it. I just needed to be covered less by Fons just as he was becoming so infatuated with me that he wanted to lie with me more.

When an important voyage was coming up for the delivery of a cargo up the horn of Africa and to the Levant for passage to Turkey and there was no sailor available who knew the new art of the wireless telegraphy the schooner, Natal, was equipped with for communications with land and other ships, I noted that I knew the art and volunteered to take the voyage. I was desperate for a break from Fons' attentions.

Hertzog, who increasingly was visiting my bed and I his, reluctantly agreed. The cargo, he said, was a vital one.

* * * *

In heaven. Heaven was Captain Rao's cock working deep inside me, coaxing my walls to spread for him, making my walls shimmer, my channel muscles to undulate over the pumping shaft, pulling him deeper into the soft core of me and then, when reluctant to give it all to him—to any man—totally, feeling the throbbing shaft plunge deeper, possessing fully. Conquering me, making me totally his to command. Ravished to the core, surrendering to the sword that took no prisoners.

I was lying, stretched out full on top of him, on the sleeping platform in a room behind the tavern on the docks. My eyes were darting around to various places in the ceiling of the room, without focusing on anything in particular. Like a crab, my feet were planted on the platform on either side of his thighs, raising my pelvis a bit to give his thrusts added power. I was held in his embrace, my back pulled tight into his chest, one of his hands playing my nipples, in turn, and the other stroking my cock. His thick, thick, long shaft was relentlessly fucking up into me, deep, totally possessing. His lips were locked into the side of my neck except when I turned my head for a deep kiss.

He was fucking me interminably. I was his for whatever he wanted. And after he filled me deep with his hot cum, he told me what he wanted. As long as he fucked me again, I would have done anything he demanded of me.

Surely he could feel the special connection as well.

Rao had let me go long enough without his attentions—and with the unsatisfactory substitute of Fons Hertzog—that I was tense and nervous for want of him. Then, when I was at my most needy and skittish, he came upon me in the streets of Cape Town, near the harbor, running an errand for Hertzog, and told me he wanted me again—now.

I said yes instantly, but it wouldn't have mattered if I hadn't. He immediately was guiding me, a hand on my buttocks, back to the alleyways of the docks and the smoky tavern with the Indian clientele—and thus to a small room beyond the beaded curtain, with the only furniture necessary: a sleeping platform. Not the room we'd been in before—but surely its twin. I didn't care any more now that it was shabby than I had before. Now, as then, I only had thoughts for Rao—and his cock.

"I've heard you are sailing from Port Elizabeth with Hertzog's schooner, the Natal, in a week's time," he murmured in my ear, still holding me to and above him, still shafting me deep and languidly moving inside me in the natural lubricant provided by his own prodigious semen.

"That is so."

"And I understand you are to operate their wireless telegraphy for the ship."

"That is so also."

"I have the same cargo I wish to get to the same market before the Natal arrives. I want you to use the Natal's telegraph to keep my ship apprised of you position so that I can get to market ahead of the Natal. Hertzog can still sell his cargo there, but I will do so a premium prices if I can stay ahead of him."

"As you wish," I'd answered. His had not really been a request, and it seemed to do little harm to Hertzog's interest. It wouldn't have mattered if it did, though. I would have said yes to him about anything as long as he had his cock inside me. I didn't even ask the nature of the cargo. It wouldn't have mattered if I had—as long as he had his cock inside me.

And I could feel the cock coming alive again. His embrace tightened, his legs came up, lacing mine in his and raising and spreading mine, giving his cock even deeper access inside me—which he was using to best advantage: thrusting deep, pulling back, thrusting deeper. I moaned and writhed within his grasp, not wanting to escape him but wanting to become one with the rhythm of the thrust. When I had, my mind became totally absorbed in the working of his shaft deep inside me. Sighing, moaning, groaning, taking him big and deep. Exploding and feeling him jerk as well, flooding me with his seed.

As twilight approached, I was lying on my back between Rao's spread legs. His back was elevated on an incline by pillows. He was palming my chest, thrumming a nipple, with one hand and had the other pressed to my belly. We were savoring what I hoped would only be an interlude, as I turned my face to his and we kissed.

"Ajit, come," he called out, and I turned my head to see Ajit enter the room, wearing just a loincloth, which was discarded as he approached the bed platform. He was in erection. "As we discussed, it is time to start more deeply teaching our little friend here the art of the passage wall muscles. We are teaching you a closely held art of the east, Geof. It will increase your pleasure and that of your partner greatly."

I think I muttered something, but I was too mellow from Rao's attentions to even think of demurring. If he said it was a way for me to increase his pleasure, although I had no idea how mine could be increased in any way when I was with him, I would willingly learn.

Ajit took hold of my ankles and wishboned my legs. I arched my back against Rao's massive chest and moaned deeply, as Rao held me close to him with the hand on my belly and on my chest. Ajit presented his cock head at my hole and pressed in. When he had moved deep inside me, Rao started whispering in my ear, giving me instruction on how I could control my body—the muscles of my passageway—and how I could heighten my pleasure and that of my partner as he moved his shaft within me. Ajit worked me well for over a half hour as I began to learn the secrets of controlling my passage walls—making them shimmer, grasping and sucking in the moving cock, undulating the muscles of the wall over the shaft, and closing tightly on the throbbing cock.

I was open and sighing, feeling Rao tense up under me and breathe harder, when he said something to Ajit in a language other than English, and Ajit, without dislodging his shaft inside me, lifted and rolled my buttocks. Then Rao spoke softly to me, saying, "Now follow my instructions closely. You are going to will yourself to open more, to dilate your passage greatly." Following his guidance, and to my surprise, I felt my passage loosening, opening even more than it already had. Rao, under me, was in massive erection. I huffed and puffed as his cock entered me, under that of the already sheathed Ajit, and, when it was saddled inside me, he and Ajit worked me together. Rao held me close, kissing my mouth and eyelids, whispering words of encouragement, while not seeing how I possibly could take the cocks of two men at one time, I did just that.