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Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys Chapter 70 Queen Mary Bell-boys by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn’t your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you’ve come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable – you’re in the right place. Don’t leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty – these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. fty/donate.html =============================================================================== There’s not much explicit sex in the next few chapters, so I’ll make them a bit longer and post them closer together. That way we’ll get back to seminal fluid appearing (or disappearing) more quickly. =============================================================================== Chapter 70 “Come.” I apologised for bothering him, and explained the problem. He quickly agreed, and told me that I’d done the right thing. “This is above your head, Patrick, let me deal with it. Will you ask him to come here – no, will you bring him here at 1000. Stay while I talk to him. I went back to the hut and sat at the back listening to Tim. He’s a good teacher and they were asking lots of questions. At 0950 I stood up and said we’d have a ten minute break. I went to Derek and beckoned him to follow me. As we went across to Sir’s bungalow I explained that Mr Corrigan was in charge of the bell boys, and that I had asked him to see whether Derek could go home early. “Is he cross?” “No, why should he be? If you’re unhappy being here it would be unkind to keep you here, as well as being possibly disruptive.” In the end it couldn’t have been easier. Sir arranged for Derek to travel home to Grantham by train, and gave him �5 compensation and money for the journey. Derek was very grateful. Sir sent me back to my duties, and that was the end of Derek. Before I took the next class I explained that Derek had left us. No-one in my hut seemed surprised, but Tim’s lot asked why. I explained that he didn’t fit in, and that it was unfair to keep him here once it was clear that he hating the whole thing. That satisfied them. I told them about the ship, her history and what happened during a voyage. We would cover the layout the next morning. At the next break at 1050 I collared Prince. “I hear interesting things about you from Tim,” I said. Prince grinned, “like what exactly?” “Well, you have a big cock and you like it to be admired. If I had one that big I’d be the same. But what do you like doing with it?” Prince didn’t hesitate. “I love fucking, and I love it when someone sucks it.” “Fine,” I said, ” but do you fuck girls, and it is girls who suck it? If you were waving it around in the dormitory it seems to me that you’re happy playing around with boys.” Prince looked at me. “Can I be honest with you? Can I trust you, Patrick?” “Yes to both. That’s why we’re all here.” “OK. Yes, I like sex with boys. That’s when I can’t get it with men. With something this big a lot of boys are scared, but I’ve found men love it.” “Prince,” I said, “let’s keep this conversation secret. I will tell Tim, but don’t say anything about the men part of it to any of the other boys. I don’t mind if you tell them you want to fuck about with them, but nothing more, OK? Can I have your word.” “You have my word as a prince,” he said with his usual broad grin, “maybe I can fuck you some time?” “Wait and see,” I said with what I hoped was a suitably enigmatic smile, but was probably more like panting desire. When I reported all that to Tim he was pleased. “Race you to see who he fucks first,” he said. “You’re on, but not until we get him on board.” The bargain was sealed with a handshake. The recruits received more instruction from me until we broke for lunch. We decided again to let conversation go where it wanted, but it didn’t go anywhere particularly interesting. At the end I told them that they could have 30 minutes to do whatever they wanted, but to meet in the food hut again at 1430. “What are you planning?” asked Tim. I got out six of the beer bottles and wrote numbers from 1 to 6 on bits of paper which I fastened to the bottles with an elastic band. “When they’re all back in here you take the bottles and hide then in six different places. Don’t make them impossible to find, just a bit difficult. Don’t go further from here than 300 yards in any direction, but make sure the bottles can be seen by someone with their eyes open from a few feet away.” He smiled. “What are you up to?” “You’ll see, just make sure they don’t see you doing it. Wait, hang on, leave one of the bottles here and we’ll hide it before they get back.” We looked about and decided that the best place was on the floor just behind the door. If I put it there after I’d sent them out later they wouldn’t see it too soon. At 1430 they were all back, expecting more classroom stuff. “We have a task for you,” I said. I put them into six teams – one from each hut, so splitting up the established pairs. That left Prince, so I allocated him to Graham and George. I hoped that grouping might produce something of interest later. “You each have a number from 1 to 6. Hidden within 300 yards are six items of treasure – they’re all the same – with the same six numbers. You are to go out to find them. If you find your number you are to bring it back here exactly as you find it. If you find some other team’s number you are to remember where you found it, but you mustn’t touch it. OK?” Nods all round – this sounded easy. “When you leave this hut split up, I don’t want two teams going in the same direction. Don’t go further than 300 yards though. I will yell in 20 minutes, and when you hear me come straight back.” “Is there are prize for which team’s best?” asked Graham. “You’ll have to wait and see. Now off you go,” At the back of my mind an idea was hatching, and the treaure might well make it very instructive. I did some preparation while I had the place to ataköy escort myself. I was going to keep Tim in the dark with this one. When I yelled they started to come back. Teams 1 (Nigel and Richard), 2 (the threesome), 5 (Javid and Vincent) and 6 (Colin and Martin) all returned bearing a bottle of beer. Team 3 (Simon and Paul) were empty-handed, as were 4 (Kevin and William). As William sat down he gave a great whoop and retrieved bottle 4 from behind the door. “That was sneaky, Patrick,” he said. “It was a good test though, because no-one else found it either. Who found 5 bottles?” No-one. “4?” Prince and Javid put their hands up. “Did either of you find bottle 3?” No. “Anyone else find bottle 3?” No-one had. “Where it is, Tim. “Under my bed,” he said. “Paul, run and get it, would you.” When he got back the six bottles of beer were proudly displayed in front of each team. “You asked about a prize. The prize is this. At 2100 tonight there won’t be any cocoa. Instead I will put out another 9 bottles – that will be one each. Then we’ll have a quiz – a quiz with a difference.” That got them excited. Several of them sought details about the nature of the quiz, but I wasn’t saying anything. We drove them out for another game of football, followed as the day before’s had been with more skinny-dipping. The reluctance to appear naked had all but vanished, and many of them were sufficiently relaxed about being naked to look openly at the manifold different genitalia before them: indeed some were sufficiently emboldened to comment – not always kindly – about what they saw. Paul had a small cock – barely three inches, and he came in for some ribaldry on this score. “Hold it, you lot,” I said, “the size of a boy’s cock when it’s asleep isn’t important. Some of you are growers and some are showers.” “What does that mean?” asked Javid, himself possessed of a useful six plus inches. Several of them giggled. I picked on one of them. “Vincent, what does it mean?” “Well, when mine gets hard it’s a lot bigger than now, but one boy we know has a big one, but it doesn’t get much bigger – it just gets hard and points up.” “That’s very clear, Vincent. You friend is a shower, because it’s big and he probably likes to show off how big it is. You, and most of us, certainly Tim and me, are growers, and our cocks get bigger when we get horny.” “Paul, will you show us please.” Paul gulped. “What, now?” “No, there’s no point with all this cold water. Why not tonight when we’re drinking the not-cocoa.” He looked relieved, and I wondered how he would deal with it that evening. “Let’s make it easier for him. Prince, you’ve got a big one. Is it a grower?” Prince grinned as he always did. “When it’s this big it doesn’t need to. But it gets a bit bigger, yes.” Good,” I said, “we will all see a demonstration of a grower and a shower. Now get in and get wet, they’ll all shrink then.” ***** When they were all sitting round the tables at 2100 I went round and gave each of them a pencil and a piece of paper. “Don’t write your name. Tim and I have no idea what your handwriting is like, so there’s no way we can work out who has written what – it’s completely anonymous. Before we start, enjoy the beer.” Tim went round after me, opening a bottle for each of them. In order to relax them, and to give the beer a chance to weave its spell on 15-year-olds largely unaccustomed to drink, I asked them whether any of them had drunk beer before. Colin and Kevin had, but it turned out that all they’d had was a glass at Christmas. None of them had sneaked off to acquire some. So my bottles would indeed have an effect. Tim and I allowed ourselves a second – presumably our Fairy Godmother had provided them for just this sort of purpose. “Right,” I said, “quiz time. Tim and I will ask you 20 questions and you will write down the answers. Be completely honest, and remember that we may already know some of the answers, so no fibbing. Once the questions are finished you’ll put the papers in a box. Then each of you can ask Tim or me – it doesn’t matter which – one question, and we will answer completely truthfully. This is about trust, guys. OK?” Nods all round, accompanied in most cases by curious looks. “I will start,” I said. “Question 1: How old were you when you first wanked?” A collective intake of breath greeted this, and it was 20 seconds before scribbling started. Tim took over. “Question 2: When did you last wank?” Less hesitation this time, and all of them wrote something, I was pleased to note. “Question 3: Have you ever wanked with another boy?” “Question 4: If the answer to that was ‘no,’ why not? If it was ‘yes’. how many boys?” Tim and I, who had not rehearsed the questions, went on with more and more intimate stuff concerning age of first wet cum, details of boy-on-boy activities actually had, and those wished-for but unattained, until we got to the last four. “Question 17: have you ever had sex with an adult man – say someone more than 19?” “Question 18: If the answer to that was ‘no’, would you like to, provided nobody found out? If the answer was ‘yes’, did you enjoy it?” “Question 19: Is there any boy here you would like to have sex with if he was willing?” “Question 20: Name him, or them, if there’s more than one.” The last two produced more noise from the candidates than any of the others, and a lot of covert looking around took place. “Thanks. You’ve done well, and some of that can’t have been easy,” I said, and I went around letting them post their folded papers into a box with a slot in the top. “Now, it’s your turn. We’ll go round the table. Simon?” “Why are you asking this kind of stuff? What’s it got to do with recruiting us as bell boys?” “That’s two questions, but I’ll let you off,” I said. “Bell boys live in small bedrooms, usually three to a room. We’re all teenagers with all the normal bad habits that boys our age get up to. All of the bell boys now wank openly without anybody raising an eyebrow, and most of us do rather merter escort more than that sometimes. A boy who finds that kind of thing offensive, as Derek clearly did, isn’t going to fit in. He’ll be miserable and so will the rest of us.” William wanted to know when we had started to wank. Tim said that we’d been 9. That caused some surprise, and questions from Graham, Nigel and Prince elicited the details – older brother showing me, me showing Tim. Richard wanted to know how many bell boys there were and did we all ‘fuck about’. Tim said that there had been 12 originally, but it soon became clear than far fewer were needed, and now there were six. “And do you all fuck about?” Richard repeated. “Patrick’s already said that we do, yes.” At last someone asked an intelligent, as distinct from a prurient, question. “Why are you recruiting more then?” I explained that the other four bell boys were all 17, and that Cunard wanted younger boys doing the bell boy duties in the elevators and running about the ship with messages. “Tim and I are 16, and you’re all 15. The ones who are selected can expect to be bell boys for two years. Then they may go to other duties on the sip, or they may leave.” Kevin asked how many would be chosen. “That’s difficult,” said Tim, “we’ve been told to select six, but maybe not all of them will be finally appointed. I can’t say more than that, because we don’t know.” Vincent and George, predictably, returned to the more immediately interesting topic of sex. “Are you and Tim boyfriends?” That was easy. “No.” “Do you fuck each other?” “Sometimes.” There was a pause while this delicious piece of news was digested. Javid rather shyly asked if he and Prince had a chance of being selected “because we’re not white”. I assured him that as far as Tim and I were concerned, and Cunard was concerned, the colour of their skin was unimportant. “When the first 12 boys were recruited in 1936 Cunard deliberately got boys from all over Britain, because they wanted us to be as different as possible. Now that they’re recruiting again the same idea is true: they want boys from different backgrounds. In 1936 they only looked at white boys. They see things differently now.” Tim added that while the colour of their skins was of no importance, he personally thought that the difference in the colour of their cocks would be of considerable interest. When the gales of laughter died down Martin asked the killer question. “Who to?” The silence was profound. At last I said, “their fellow bell boys, I imagine.” Only Paul was left. Anything he asked would be an anti-climax, and he probably sensed that. “What will you do with our answers?” “Ah,” I said, “that I can’t answer, but what matters is that you all wrote answers, and no-one stormed out saying it was all disgusting.” The beer bottles were all empty; most of them were a little more relaxed than they’d been before as alcohol was a new friend. “George and Vincent, stay a moment. The rest of you, time for bed,” I said, “off you go.” Tim reminded his lot that five of them were banned from wearing pyjamas. “You were going to tell us what you two got up to,” I reminded them, “but I think I can make it easy for you. You asked if we were boyfriends, and we’re not. But you two are, aren’t you?” They both smiled. “I take that as a ‘yes’ then.” They both smiled even more. “That’s fine,” said Tim, “but you said you both fancied some action with Prince. Does that mean you want to fuck about with other boys?” The two of them looked at each other, then George explained. “He’s the only boy I’ve done anything with, and I’m the only one he’s done anything with. We’ve been fooling around, as you call it, for two years now, and we … we … we’re very fond of each other.” “But we want to have fun with other boys,” added Vincent, “both of us – it’s just that we’ve never had the chance. But here, well, seeing all these cocks … ” He had no need to go further. “We understand,” I said, “and you should do what you feel like doing. We won’t stop you. Now off you go to beddie-byes.” When they had gone Tim asked me what the quiz had been about. I got the papers from the box and unfolded them. “How do you know who wrote what?” he asked, “you’re bound to have done something.” I grinned, and shuffled them all. I showed him what I had in my hand – 15 sheets of paper each one slightly smaller than the one behind it. “And you handed them out in order so you know which is which?” “Yes,” and I wrote each one’s name on his sheet while I had the order in which they’d been sitting fresh in my mind. “What have you got?” We’d learned more that was useful in that hour than we had in the 30-odd hours beforehand. All of them confessed to having wanked – hardly a surprise until I remembered poor Charlie. Ages ranged from 10 to 12 apart from Martin, much as we’d expected. Eight of them had wanked since arrival – again not much surprise. We expected that to reach 15 before the night was out as licence had been granted by the asking of the question. All but three had had a wanking session with another boy – the three being Paul, Kevin and Martin. That was them effectively out of the running. None of them has given a reason, but that wasn’t important. What was more interesting were the other responses. The twins had put “lots” and “too many to count – at least 20”, while most of them had had three or four. George and Vincent had both put just one – each other, no doubt. Were they boyfriends then? Spunk had first appeared quite late for many of them – after their 14th birthday in many cases. Unsurprisingly Javid (at 12) and Prince (at 11, but could he be trusted?) had been faster in that area. When we reached the questions about the nature of the sexual activities it was clear we were largely dealing with boys who only wanked themselves or another boy. Prince had fucked boys and been sucked off, but that wasn’t news to us. George and Vincent had sucked off a boy and been sucked off by him: now there was very bahçeşehir escort little doubt about their faithfulness to each other. But did it cross the line into L-territory? Graham and Nigel had fucked and been fucked, but we were pretty sure of that too. Only Javid and Prince had had sex with a man. Three of those who hadn’t said they might (the twins and George) while one (Vincent) went further and expressed keenness. Javid had been fucked by ‘a few men’ and had enjoyed it. Needless to say Prince had also enjoyed it, and he spread himself over several lines describing precisely why. Question 19 produced the news that one of mine fancied a session with a boy he hadn’t had sex with before: Javid fancied both twins. Tim’s lot appeared to fancy just about everybody, helped no doubt by the nakedness the night before and Prince’s prancing. The only ones showing no keenness were Martin and Paul. “Where does all that leave us,” said Tim, “apart from having a stiffy. What about you?” “Me too. I like where all this is going. Kevin, Paul and Martin are out. That leaves ten. Prince, Graham, Nigel and Vincent all seem happy with the hidden agenda, and my guess is that if Vincent’s a player then George will be too. That’s five. It would be great if Javid were the sixth.” “I agree,” said Tim, “that’s three pairs, although not necessarily three sets of boyfrirnds. What do we do now?” “Tomorrow we have to spend time with each of them singly to talk about the sort of things we’s be talking about in a real interview. We don’t want any of them to feel they’re being treated differently,” I said. “We can both talk to the ones who are couples though.” We walked slowly back to the dormitory huts. We’d learned a great deal, and there wasn’t much still left to discover. Still, discovering it would be interesting. I went into my hut, and was presented with a scene I hadn’t expected. Graham and Nigel were both clearly in mid-wank. Both were naked. Colin, Javid and Simon were gathered close by, watching with interest. Kevin was sitting on his bed, but seemed to be just as interested. The wankers stopped as soon as I came in. “Don’t stop just because I’m here,” I said, “I’ve done what you’re doing, and I know it’s not much fun being interrupted.” Graham said that the flow had been broken. Nigel then said that he had a better idea, and looked at me for encouragement. I didn’t want to appear too keen, and I hoped that the tiny nod I gave wasn’t noticed by the others. I stripped off, deciding not to bother with pyjamas, and lay back on my bed to see what would happen. “Why aren’t you wearing pyjamas?” asked Simon. “Because I like being naked in bed,” I said, “that’s how I am on Queen Mary, and I don’t see why I should wear pyjamas just because I’ve got a bunch of randy 15-year-olds to look after.” This was interpreted by Javid and Simon as licence for them to remove their pyjamas, leaving only Kevin and Colin still with their cocks concealed. Concealed, but clearly aroused. Javid, hairiest of the boys in my hut, asked the question I’d been anticipating. “Why haven’t you and Tim got any hairs on your bits? We’ve all got hairs, but you’re older.” “Tim and I shave our hair,” I said. It wasn’t entirely true, as you know, but it was as far as I was prepared to go at that stage. “Why?” persisted Javid, “I like having hairs as it makes me feel grown up.” “Yes, that’s how we felt at first, but think about it. If you can grow hairs and shave then it makes your cock look bigger, and that’s what we like. Besides, if you’re the only boy of 15 without hair you’re going to look special.” I left it dangling, wondering if Javid would ask why we might wish to look special. Nigel and Graham had had a brief whisper while Javid was questioning me. Nigel reached over and started to wank Graham, who was quick to reciprocate. The others watched. George said “this isn’t working,” and pulled Nigel on top of him. Judging from the looks on their faces none of the other four had seen a 69 session before. “Wow!” from Simon. “Fucking hell” from Javid. “Mmm!” from Colin with a wide smile, “I’ve heard about this, but I’ve not seen it.” Nothing from Kevin, but he kept on watching. “OK,” I said, “this is called 69ing, and you can work out why. Tim and I do this, and probably most twins do. Who wants to have his cock sucked?” I knew that only Colin had, and that Javid had written that he wanted to. Both of them put up their hand. “OK, who wants to suck someone’s cock?” Apart from the twins this hadn’t produced any offers. “Think about it, guys, if you want to suck someone’s cock shouldn’t you be prepared to suck his? Why should he suck yours?” I could see four boys wrestling with this etiquette dilemma while watching a very practised pair bringing each other close. Graham and Nigel were bouncing about, and release was imminent. Suddenly Nigel groaned and I knew that he was coming. Graham underneath reached round and pulled Nigel’s arse closer and engulfed his brother’s cock deeper into his mouth. “God! he’s doing it in Graham’s mouth!” said Kevin in a horrified tone. “That’s what you do when you 69,” I said, “and Geaham will shoot in a moment.” Simon said that that had looked really hot, and that maybe he wouldn’t mind sucking someone’s cock if they would suck his. I grinned. “That’s how it works, Simon.” While Graham and Nigel came down from their exertions the other three watching at close range were all stroking their cocks. “If you’re going to wank, do it on your own beds,” I said, “you don’t know each other well enough to do it on each other.” That got an very interested look from George, who received a wink in return. Five minutes later Colin, Javid and Simon had all had orgasms, all in full view of the others, all noisy. Kevin had had an orgasm under his bedclothes, out of sight, and obtained quietly. Poor Kevin, I thought. =============================================================================== The fun will continue in Chapter 71 where things hot up even more. The photographs in Queen Mary 2 are real. I saw them while making a transatlantic crossing a few months ago, and the boy I describe as “me” is really cute. I’m sure he had adventures … Drop me a line at net – that is after you’ve dropped a few quid. ===============================================================================

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