Sandy Goes to Sea
by Jolyon Lewes
Sandy had reached a crisis point. He’d just been thrown out of catering college and his parents weren’t slow to show their disappointment. Despite a promising school career in his early teens he’d gone off the boil in his sixteenth year and had achieved no GCSE passes. His father’s hopes that he’d follow him into business were proving fruitless, as were his mother’s hopes that he’d find a girlfriend. Sandy was wondering what to do. Once such a bright and hard-working boy, he now looked destined for menial work. His father said he’d have to pay his way if he were to continue to live at home.
“You’re nearly seventeen, boy. At that age I’d been at work two years, sending my mother money to repay her for scrimping and saving to give me a good start to life. You’ve given us nothing! You’ve had a private education and every luxury a boy could want and look at you – can’t even hold down a place at a bloody cookery school! Sort yourself out!”
It was 1991 and there were plenty of opportunities for the young people of Britain. You could even get letters after your name for learning golf course maintenance. Sandy had been destined for a proper degree at a proper university but now he couldn’t even scrape a catering diploma.
One day in May his mother’s unmarried brother paid a visit. Sandy had always liked his Uncle Ken and happily spent an hour with him before supper. They sat beside each other in the garden, Uncle Ken with a large whisky and Sandy with a Coke.
“You’re a fit young lad,” said Uncle Ken. “Have you thought of joining the forces? The army, maybe, or the Navy?”
“Couldn’t take the discipline, Uncle and anyway I’m a bit of a pacifist. I think it’s wrong to kill people, even if they’re your enemy.”
“Hmm, but does getting away from home appeal, not for ever, of course but just for a year or so? Getting some worldly experience under your belt.”
“You mean like running away to sea?” said Sandy. “Sometimes I think I’d like that but I don’t think it’s possible these days.”
Uncle Ken looked at Sandy, a boy with clear skin, a mop of fair hair and brown eyes that still had the lustre of earlier years. He sipped his whisky and remained silent for a minute, responding to Sandy’s remark only with a pat on the boy’s thigh, just below the fashionably-frayed hem of his cut-off jeans.
Sandy liked the pat on his leg. Uncle Ken had never said anything critical to his nephew and had always been a sort of friend. When Sandy’s parents had been cross with their son Uncle Ken had lightened the moment with a crafty wink, a joke or indeed, a pat on the leg.
“Now that’s got me thinking, Sandy. D’you fancy a clean break, getting away from home, being paid to work with other young people and to do it at sea?”
At supper, Sandy’s parents were surprised by their son’s attitude. For once he was chatty, polite and even smiling. He was almost like the son they’d known before he’d turned sixteen.
Afterwards Sandy’s father had a word with his wife.
“If your brother’s put silly thoughts into the boy’s head I’ll not be pleased. I want a word with him. Why don’t you get your son to help you clear up?”
Sandy’s mother didn’t like the way her husband referred to Sandy as ‘her’ son. Was he trying to blame her for Sandy’s decline?
In bed, Sandy’s father told his wife what Uncle Ken had in mind for her son. Uncle Ken was on the board of a company on the English south coast, at a resort called Timbury Regis. The company operated pleasure cruises along the Jurassic Coast and within the broad estuary of the River Tim. The cruises were aimed at naturalists, bird-watchers, photographers and anyone interested in spotting seals and other marine residents of the English Riviera. The boats were crewed entirely by young people. On-the-job training, uniform and accommodation were provided.
“I know your brother has certain friends I don’t approve of but this cruise company sounds OK and the boy’s quite keen. It could be the making of him.”
Sandy’s mother agreed but privately thought a life on the ocean wave wasn’t likely to expose Sandy to potential fiancées. She sighed. And why, for heaven’s sake, couldn’t her husband use Sandy’s name? He’d always done so until recently.
Sandy was in bed, stroking his silken thighs, for the past two years a favourite pastime of his and one which invariably led to a juicy wank. He thought of when Uncle Ken had patted him. Nobody else had touched him for ages, let alone patted his legs and he’d liked it. He’d felt a further tingle of excitement when Uncle Ken had admired his shorts.
“Nice cut-offs, Sandy. They suit you. Could do with being very much shorter but that seems to be going out of fashion, sad to say. But not everywhere, thank goodness.”
That last remark had puzzled Sandy. What did Uncle Ken mean?
Three weeks later Sandy went to the London offices of Timbury Cruise Lines for an interview and medical examination. For Uncle Ken’s sake he’d tried hard to look smart and his turn-out certainly impressed the two men who interviewed him. He said he didn’t know much about ships and the sea but was prepared to learn.
“Well, Alexander, the company believes in on-the-job training. It’s vital you get on with the rest of the crew and show respect at all times to the passengers. Your skipper and his bosun will give you all the support you need, especially at first. As you’re not yet eighteen your father will need to sign the contract handing you into our care and agreeing to any corrective training necessary.”
After a few more questions Sandy was sent through to the company doctor, an androgynous youth of twenty-six with delicate features and the tightest trousers Sandy had ever seen. A surprised Sandy had to strip completely and lie on a bench beside the doctor’s desk for his body to be examined in great detail. After a while the doctor got Sandy to turn onto his tummy so he could inspect his bottom, which he did with surprising intimacy. He then told Sandy to stand up and put his hands on his head.
“You’ve very nice legs,” said the doctor, who’d removed his surgical gloves and was stroking the front of Sandy’s left thigh. “You don’t shave them, do you?”
“No, sir, of course not!” said Sandy, feeling a stirring in his groin.
“Hmm, that’s good,” said the doctor, moving his fingers round to Sandy’s inner thigh. “We don’t want hairy young men in the company.”
He looked at the semi-erection now sported by Sandy and smiled. “You’ve passed your medical, young man. Put your hands down and get dressed.”
Sandy smiled back. The doctor left to speak to the interview board, leaving our hero to ponder on his now-rigid penis. The doctor’s fingers had felt so nice as they’d probed Sandy’s bottom and stroked his thigh, far nicer than Uncle Ken’s had felt three weeks earlier. And Sandy thought the doctor was gorgeous. He’d never felt that about another male. But he hadn’t felt that about a girl, either.
“An excellent specimen,” said the doctor to the interview board. “Physically immature for seventeen, so just what we’re after. Fantastic legs and perfect bottom. Almost certainly a virgin. A winning smile, too. I’d recommend he be appointed to Jack’s crew. I’m damned sure he’s one of us. He appeals to me greatly.”
“And judging by that gigantic bulge in your trousers,” said one of the interviewers, “I can perfectly believe it! I suppose you’ll want to go down to Timbury to help settle him in.”
“Oooh yes!” squeaked the doctor. “Such a nice change from my day job in the hospital.”
“Jack’ll be delighted to have some nice new crumpet under his command!” said the other interviewer. “I’ll send the contract to Alexander’s father to sign.”
In his smartest clothes Sandy travelled by train to Timbury Regis. He wore a navy blue blazer as he wanted to look nautical. At Timbury Cruise Lines a pleasant young man in a suit bade him welcome and pointed to a two-storey building opposite.
“That’s the accommodation block. It’s two to a room but we’re a friendly lot so I don’t think you’ll have any problems. We usually eat at the café or get take-aways so you won’t starve. Your skipper’s Jack and he’ll be along to meet you as soon as he’s brought his boat in. But first I’ll take you over to your room.”
On his bed Sandy saw a parcel which presumably contained his uniform but he’d no time to open it as the merry tooting of a horn indicated the arrival of Jack’s boat.
It was a jaunty little two-deck vessel in blue and yellow, named Samantha. The wheelhouse stood towards the forward end of the upper deck and behind it was an open-air seated area with about eighty passengers. Sandy saw a boy about his age leap onto the jetty to grab the rope thrown to him by a larger boy standing amidships. The boys were in white shirts, blue shorts and sandals. The boy on the jetty fastened his rope to a bollard then went towards the after end of the boat to grab a rope passed to him by a girl, also in white shirt and blue shorts. Sandy was struck by the extraordinary brevity of the shorts worn by the boy on the jetty.
Sandy watched as the passengers disembarked and once they’d all gone, he saw the girl go to the company’s offices and the two boys descend to the lower deck of Samantha. He moved away from the window and was about to open the parcel on his bed when into the room came another young man, one whom he hadn’t seen before. He was in the Timbury Cruise Lines uniform but on each shoulder of his shirt was a gold stripe.
“You must be Sandy,” said the newcomer. “I’m Jack, your skipper. Welcome to Timbury Cruise Lines and to my ship, Samantha! You’re sharing this room with Aaron. This is his second season with us. We all live in this block, except Sally, who lives in town. I’ll introduce you to my crew in an hour so I suggest you get into uniform. You’ll find it all in that parcel. Catch you later!”
Sandy opened his parcel. Six white shirts, six pairs of blue shorts, two pairs of sandals and six pairs of tiny white briefs. Lifting up a pair of shorts he began to shake with nerves. Surely he wasn’t expected to wear shorts as short as that? He suddenly remembered that puzzling remark of Uncle Ken’s.
A sense of foreboding struck Sandy and he was extremely reluctant to get changed. Then into the room came the boy he’d watched on the jetty, the boy in extraordinarily short shorts. He wasn’t as tall as Sandy and looked a bit younger. He had a cheeky little face and beautiful, blue eyes.
He seemed pleased to find someone in his room. “Oh – you must be the new boy – I’m Aaron.”
Sandy shook Aaron’s hand. “I’m Sandy. Got here an hour ago. Nice to meet you.”
Aaron rubbed his bottom and stood facing Sandy, taking in his slim build, fair hair and sensuous brown eyes.
“You should fit in pretty well here and I can see the camera doesn’t lie – you’re gorgeous! Do you know anything about seamanship?”
“No, not really,” said Sandy.
“You learn on the job,” said Aaron, still rubbing his bottom. “And if you’re anything like me you’ll get loads of encouragement! I need a shower.”
Aaron took off his shirt then put on a cotton dressing gown before stooping to remove his sandals, shorts and briefs. Grabbing a towel, he left the bedroom and made for the washroom. Sandy looked at Aaron’s discarded clothing. The shorts had inseams of barely 4 cm, even less than on the shorts Sandy had been given.
Sandy again found himself shaking with nerves. He remembered Jack’s instruction to be in uniform for the meeting with the crew. With great apprehension he took off all his clothes. ‘What have I done?’ he wondered as he put on the tiny briefs and then the white shirt. Looking in the full-length mirror, he took a deep breath and stepped into the shorts and began to pull them up. When the waistband was halfway up his thighs the lower hems were above his knees. Up and up went the hems until they stopped not far below his crotch. His heart was beating very fast as he stared in horror at the mirror. His long, smooth legs were almost entirely bare!
The door opened and in bustled Aaron, towel around his waist.
“Christ! The Bosun’s gonna love you! A yard of lovely, bare leg – just what he likes!”
This made Sandy blush and he turned to Aaron.
“Why? Is the Bosun a pervert or something?”
“You’ll find out soon enough, mate!”
Sandy looked at Aaron and was struck by how good-looking he was. He felt a surge of sexual arousal which was quickly replaced by apprehension when he turned to see again his own image in the mirror.
“I try not to look in that mirror,” said Aaron. “It reminds me how obscenely short my bloody shorts are. You’re lucky – your bare bum doesn’t peep out like mine does.”
“Why d’you wear ’em so short, then?” asked Sandy.
“Bosun’s orders. I have no choice.”
Sandy thought he’d better change the subject. “What do we wear in cold weather?”
“Company policy to wear this uniform all season,” said Aaron. “In rain we have a waterproof jacket and if it’s cold we wear gloves. Makes handling the ropes bearable. But mostly it’s just what you’re wearing now. Meant to give the passengers the illusion of perpetual summer – and for some of the men, a raging hard-on. Your legs will soon get an all-over tan.” Look at mine! He threw his towel onto the bed and stood naked, facing Sandy.
Sandy looked at Aaron’s delightfully hairless legs and saw a marked tan-line at the very top of each. He noticed Aaron was semi-erect. He blushed again.
“We’re having a crew meeting soon,” said Aaron, “so I’d best get dressed and I’ll take you there.” Without turning away from Sandy, Aaron donned his tiny briefs and forced his penis inside, with some difficulty. “Like what you see?” he asked, having noticed where Sandy was gazing.
Sandy blushed even more deeply and looked away.
When Aaron had dressed he took Sandy downstairs and across the road to the Timbury Cruise Lines offices. Jack the skipper was there, as were Sally and four young men Sandy didn’t recognise. All were in the company uniform. Jack’s shorts were the longest, reaching almost to his knees and the other five had shorts of varying length much shorter than Jack’s but not nearly as short as Aaron’s.
Jack opened a bottle of Cava and poured the contents into eight glasses. He offered a glass to Sandy, who was blushing again.
“Here’s to our new crew member,” said Jack. “Welcome to the crew of Samantha, Sandy and here’s to many happy voyages with us!”
Everyone raised a glass to Sandy and he nodded in their direction and gave a shy little smile. After some small talk Jack made another announcement.
“Now Sandy, I’ll leave you with Sally, our catering manager, while I brief the rest of the crew on the trips we’ve got in the next four days.”
Sally came forward, shook Sandy’s hand in welcome and guided him to the far end of the room where sat an unopened bottle of Cava. Sally was a big girl.
“I’ll open this when I’ve filled you in on who’s who,” she said, touching the still-blushing Sandy gently on his forearm. “If you feel self-conscious in your uniform don’t worry too much. Everyone feels conspicuous at first but remember, you were picked for your good looks as much as anything else. And you’ve got fantastic legs! The longer you serve in the company the longer your shorts can be – unless your name’s Aaron. Look at Jack’s – he’s been with us four years.
“Under Jack is Dan, the Bosun, that tall, blond one with legs to die for. He’s twenty-two, second-in-command and in charge of training us crew members. He’s the one who gives corrective training to you boys. The little dark boy is Sammy, the engineer. We hardly ever see him cos he’s down below with his beloved engine. That divine redhead is Rufus and standing next to him is William, the one in tiny shorts. He’s a real sweetie; he runs the bar and helps me with the catering. The cute little one in even tinier shorts is Aaron, your room-mate. Would you believe he’s just turned eighteen? Sammy apart, we take turns at whatever needs to be done. I steer the ship when Jack answers the call of nature. Sometimes I even get Dan to serve drinks. It’s all very friendly and good fun.”
“So what does Aaron do?” asked Sandy, noting that Aaron was still rubbing his bottom.
“Gorgeous, isn’t he?” said Sally. “He’s the Bosun’s Mate. General dogsbody, to you and me. He’s Bosun’s Mate in more than one way cos Dan’s really fond of him, even though he’s always having to discipline him. Have you seen his latest cane marks?”
“N-no,” stammered Sandy, feeling again that surge of fear. “Cane marks, like marks made by a cane?”
“Yes, darling, didn’t you know? Corrective training means getting caned by Dan!”
Sandy felt weak and clutched at the table, making the bottle of Cava wobble.
“Oh, poor dear,” said Sally. “You need another drink. I’ll just open this bottle.”
Sandy fortified himself with his second glass of Cava. It went quickly down and Sally had to refill his glass again.
“D’you mean Dan can cane us?” said he, trying to stop trembling.
“Yes, darling, except for me, of course, or Jack, obviously. Didn’t you agree to accept corrective training when you signed your contract?”
“My dad signed it cos I’m only just seventeen. I didn’t realise it meant caning!”
“Look at Aaron from behind when you get the chance. Two nice red marks on his sweet little bottom which his shorts can’t hide. And probably more further up. Shorts like his can’t hide very much at all….”
Thinking his own shorts didn’t hide very much at all, Sandy put down his glass and tugged at their hems to try to make them cover a little more flesh.
Sally noticed and said “Oh, you sweet little thing! William was always doing that when he first joined and oh – how the passengers loved watching him! Honestly – you boys are so self-conscious! The passengers like to see young, healthy bodies like ours. Makes ’em feel young again. Or so I’m told.”
Sandy now felt sick with fear. What on earth had he let himself in for and what did his Uncle Ken know about all this corrective training?
Jack’s briefing was over and the whole crew went to eat in a nearby restaurant. Sandy had been starving but fear had demolished his appetite and he could only pick at his scampi and chips. By now all the other boys had chatted to him and he felt welcome but scared. Dan told him he’d be under his command for four months. Back in the accommodation block a slightly inebriated Aaron led Sandy to the room they shared.
“So what’s Dan like?” asked Sandy. “Is he as hard as he looks?”
“Hard, yes. But fair as well. He’s not a bully, if that’s what you mean.”
“But he can cane us. Sally said he canes you a lot.”
“Yeah, he does. I usually deserve it and it bloody well hurts. D’you wanna see what he did today?”
As Aaron bent forward and put his hands on his knees Sandy saw the blue shorts ride up to expose an inch or two of Aaron’s bottom where there were three slashes of livid red.
“How many can you see?”
“Three,” said a shocked Sandy. “They look incredibly painful.” Despite his best efforts, he was feeling a strange surge of desire.
“I’ll take off these stupid little shorts so you can see the rest,” said Aaron, standing up, releasing his shorts and easing down his very skimpy briefs to reveal two more slashes on his bottom.
“It’s terrible,” said Sandy. “Looks so painful. You must have been in agony!”
“You can say that again!” said Aaron. “Dan caned me just before the last trip. We had some retired schoolmasters on the boat and I could see ’em training their binoculars not on the bloody sea-life but on me! I don’t s’pose they realised I’m eighteen. Is there any blood?”
“Yes, one of them’s still weeping,” said a horrified Sandy. “What can I do to help?”
“You could sooth my poor bum with a wet flannel. I’ll lie on my bed.”
Sandy was eager to please. He felt revulsion at what Dan had done to Aaron and felt great tenderness for Aaron, finding himself with a growing erection. He wet a face flannel and placed it on Aaron’s bare bottom and patted it gently.
“Ooh, that feels nice!” murmured Aaron, wriggling a little.
Sandy soothed Aaron’s bottom, admiring the smoothness of each firm, white buttock and noting how the cane-marks stood proud of the sumptuous flesh, forming angry ridges in every shade of red. He was careful not to touch them but just to press gently with the cool flannel. He was shocked to find his rigid penis had escaped his little white briefs and was poking out from the left leg of his blue shorts. He was wondering what to do about it when Aaron stopped purring and made to raise himself from his bed. That was when Sandy saw that Aaron also had a raging erection.
“Thanks, Sandy, you’ve got a magic touch. Maybe I can do it for you some time? Oh – I see you enjoyed it as much as I did! Occupational hazard in shorts like these! Look – I’ve gotta go. Dan’s expecting me, for sex. I’ll be back much later and I’ll try not to wake you up.”
In only his flimsy dressing gown, Aaron left the room, leaving Sandy wondering how his room-mate could bear to go to the bed of the man who only hours before had caned him so severely. Sally had said life in the company was ‘all friendly and good fun’ but to Sandy it looked nothing of the sort.
Next morning, after sleeping poorly, a nervous Sandy put on his uniform and presented himself to Dan for a detailed tour of Samantha, which included all the passenger spaces, the engine compartment, the wheelhouse and the hidden spaces where only the crew went, like the bilges and the sewerage systems.
“It’s the junior crew member’s job to clean those out,” said Dan, giving Sandy a big grin. “But we let you have a shower afterwards! We sail at midday and you’ll be in the wheelhouse with Jack for the whole time but I want you to watch everything that’s going on cos I’ll quiz you later and a low score earns corrective training. OK?”
Despite the threat of a fate like Aaron’s if he failed his quiz, Sandy enjoyed the tour of Samantha. Dan was good at explaining things and Sandy felt free to ask questions. He was smitten by Dan’s magnetic personality. Dan formed the opinion that Sandy would soon be a better seaman than Aaron but that wouldn’t be saying much. Aaron was kept on the payroll more as an attraction for the passengers than as a dependable seaman.
In his astonishingly short shorts, Aaron was obliged to display his cane marks as he moved about the ship whether he liked it or not. Dan seemed to love it when he saw passengers staring at Aaron’s weals. Sandy thought this was horribly sadistic but couldn’t help staring just as hard and often found himself conscious of his penis struggling to escape the confines of his embarrassingly short blue shorts. He wondered what poor Aaron had done to have his shorts cut so short. And he wondered what Dan and Aaron got up to in Dan’s bed.
The three-hour cruise was much more enjoyable than Sandy had dared to predict. He stood in the wheelhouse with Jack the whole time, apart from when he had to take messages to members of the crew. He watched the slipping procedure when Samantha left the jetty and the mooring procedure when she came home again. He watched the crew about their business and saw William circulating among the passengers taking orders for drinks. He noted how passengers devoured with their eyes the beautiful young steward in the tiny shorts.
Sandy studied the charts Jack showed him and took the wheel on a couple of occasions (“Just keep her head towards that jagged island ahead”) and he tried to understand what Dan was doing with ropes and fenders and the gangway. He briefly visited hot little Sammy in his hot little engine compartment. He went to see Sally making the passengers’ lunch and Aaron helping to hand it round while William ran the bar. He watched elderly male passengers performing contortions in their attempts to look up Aaron’s brutally short shorts.
Once the voyage was over Jack took Sandy into the company offices. “That was a pretty good trip, Sandy. I think you’re going to get on well here. Now, you’ve probably noticed some close friendships. Rufus and William are an item and so are Dan and Aaron. Sally doesn’t go for boys. We’ve no idea what turns Sammy on. The company doctor said he wants to see you at work and he’s coming down for this evening’s cruise. So I’d like you to spend some time with me in the wheelhouse and the rest doing what Dan wants. Is that OK?”
Despite feeling horribly embarrassed about the brevity of his own shorts, Sandy had felt surges of excitement whenever he’d watched Aaron or William at work, their twinkling thighs catching the light and looking so smooth, bare and vulnerable and in Aaron’s bottom’s case, so ravaged by the cane. Sandy wondered if the doctor would wear company uniform and the thought excited him.
But first there was Dan’s quiz to get through. To cut the story short, Sandy failed the quiz. He’d enjoyed his time in the wheelhouse with Jack but hadn’t noticed little details that a seaman takes in his stride, nor even the big details, like the need when entering harbour to keep the red buoys to the left and the green buoys to the right.
“OK, Sandy,” said Dan. “I’m afraid I’ll need to give you a little corrective training. Usually I do it before a trip, cos it seems to please the passengers to see freshly-whipped boys but this time I’ll do it afterwards, cos I know the doctor wants to be present to see fair play.”
Poor Sandy was frantic with fear. Soon his bottom would be as ravaged as Aaron’s and the fact that his shorts were slightly longer than Aaron’s gave him no comfort at all. The prospect of coping with a three-hour evening cruise only to be caned at the end of it, regardless of how well he performed had him close to tears. Aaron’s offer to sooth his bottom afterwards, while much appreciated, did nothing to alleviate Sandy’s growing feeling of terror.
And then the doctor arrived. Looking even younger than he’d looked in London, he entered Sandy and Aaron’s bedroom just as the boys had changed into clean clothes for the evening cruise. To Sandy’s amazement the doctor was in Timbury Cruise Lines uniform; his shorts were awesomely short and very, very tight.
“Ah, Aaron,” said the doctor, “I see you’re still in those obscene little shorts!”
“Dan insists on it,” said Aaron, blushing profoundly.
“And my dear young Sandy,” said the doctor, “you’re looking lovelier than ever!”
Sandy blushed even more profoundly than Aaron.
“Let’s just check you both over,” said the doctor, producing a stethoscope. “On your beds, please.”
Sandy had a sudden hope that he’d be pronounced medically unfit to be caned and lay compliantly on his bed. He felt the doctor’s bare thigh pressing on his own bare arm and his heartbeat accelerated. The doctor muttered comforting words and Sandy relaxed, except that his penis was rigid.
“Lovely boy,” said the doctor, patting Sandy’s leg. He turned to Aaron. “On your tummy, please, Aaron. I need to examine your weals.”
Aaron’s little shorts were much looser than the doctor’s and gave easy access to his bare buttocks, his white briefs having vanished into his crack. Sandy watched in fascination.
“Hmm,” said the doctor. “Very nasty indeed but you’ll live to fight another day. OK, boys – let’s get to sea!”
Both boys could see the doctor’s highly-aroused state and Sandy couldn’t help feeling aroused by this lithe twenty-six-year-old’s magnificent body, as hairless as his own. Sandy hoped he’d look like that in nine years’ time. He wondered if Uncle Ken had met the doctor.
The evening cruise went well; the weather was good, the passengers imbibed heartily, Aaron and William were photographed from every angle and so was the doctor. Sandy was able to stay in the wheelhouse with Jack but he saw Dan casting him the occasional lecherous glance and knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d have to face the cane. As the cruise drew to its close and Samantha sidled in to the harbour Sandy found himself trembling with nerves, his stomach churning.
“Don’t leave the ship,” said Dan to Sandy. “I give it to you below deck. Can’t have the public watching!”
Sandy was terrified. It was nine-thirty in the evening, the sun had set and in his sparse clothing he should have felt cold but he was sweating with fear. Why hadn’t he realised corrective training meant a beating? Even the thought of Aaron soothing his bottom didn’t cheer him up. He looked miserably at the last of the passengers meandering off to pubs for a cosy drink.
“Hello, Sandy, my lad.”
Sandy felt a hand on his shoulder. It was the doctor.
“I’ve come to witness your corrective training and to make sure nothing goes amiss. You’re shaking – please don’t be scared – all the boys have to go through this – and I’ll be here to look after you.”
The doctor’s presence made Sandy feel better, although it probably wouldn’t make the coming pain any easier to bear. He turned his pretty face to the doctor and received a nice kiss on his cheek.
“Come on, then,” said the doctor. “We’d best go below.”
He guided Sandy down to the place of punishment, actually Samantha’s bar. Dan was waiting. He had a long, slender cane in his hand and was smiling. It was a predatory sort of smile.
“Ah, Sandy,” said Dan. “I’ve rather taken to you. You’ve got a great body. Aaron’s my Bosun’s Mate but you seem to be a quick learner so in time you could take his title. I don’t think he’d mind. Now one thing I like is to see my handiwork on display and the passengers like to see it too. You should see the tips Aaron collects!”
Despite his terror Sandy was listening and wondered what Dan was going to say next.
“So as well as teaching you seamanship my corrective training will boost your earnings. What a bargain! Only one thing – the cane marks must be visible to the punters if they’re going to cough up! Aaron doesn’t like me hitting his thighs so I go for his lovely little bottom. That’s why his shorts are short enough to show the weals there, especially when he bends over to grab a rope or whatever. I’m going to give you two on your bum and two on your thighs, then you can decide whether you want your shorts made as short as Aaron’s.”
“Shorts down then, Sandy,” said the doctor. “Then over this table and I’ll be the other side to hold your hands while Dan is doing the business.”
In a dreamlike state Sandy unzipped his blue shorts. They fell to his ankles and he leant over the table. The doctor grasped his wrists and held them firm. Tears welled up in Sandy’s beautiful brown eyes.
Dan pulled up Sandy’s shirttail then yanked up on the waistband of the skimpy briefs to expose most of the perfectly-formed bottom. He stood back to admire his target and swished his cane about. It made a noise that had Sandy shaking in fear. Then there was a silence that seemed to last an age. At last, after a tantalising 30-second wait Dan struck the crown of Sandy’s bottom – with his hand. It was more a gentle slap than a stroke intended to produce pain. Sandy was expecting a vicious cane stroke but all he felt was the pat on his bottom and the doctor’s grip on his wrists relaxing.
The doctor slid his hands onto Sandy’s hands and gently helped him into an upright position. “We really had you there, my lovely boy!” he said, smiling at the bewildered boy.
“Initiation ceremony over, Sandy and you passed!” said Dan. “You can pull your shorts up now. Come in, guys!”
To Sandy’s increased bewilderment into the bar came Jack, Aaron, Rufus, William, Sammy and last but certainly not least, Sally. Hastily pulling up his shorts, Sandy turned to face them and as they began to applaud him he blushed as deeply as ever he’d blushed before. Not only were there tears on his soft cheeks that everyone could see but if that wasn’t enough he guessed Sally must have seen his bare bottom. He wiped his face with his sleeve and tried to smile.
“Well, Sandy,” said Jack, “this is your second welcome to Samantha and probably the one you’ll remember! Sorry if the initiation ceremony’s a bit childish but we’ve all had to suffer it and you coped very well. You should have seen the way Rufus fought and spat and scratched when he thought he was going to get the cane!”
Rufus was grinning sheepishly as he came up to shake Sandy’s hand. “Well done, mate. I blew my top but I see you’re made of stronger stuff!”
Sally kissed Sandy and called him a sweet little thing.
Everyone shook Sandy’s hand and said kind words. Last was Aaron, whose shorts seemed shorter than ever. “Welcome to the gang, Sandy. We’re not sailing till midday so we’ve got a long lie-in to look forward to!”
“The bar is open!” announced Jack and sure enough, the hatch slid up and William was in position ready to serve drinks all round. Dan put his arm round Sandy’s shoulder and led him to the bar where William passed each of them a glass of Cava. Soon the crew of Samantha was enjoying the party, apart from Sammy, who’d gone to tend his beloved engine. Once it had registered with Sandy that the caning thing was all part of a joke and that he’d now been accepted by the crew and that corrective training didn’t mean anything sinister or painful he began to enjoy himself too.
William chatted to Sandy and asked him what he’d done before joining Timbury Cruise Lines.
“Oh, I was useless at school and tried catering college but got thrown out. I’d no motivation to do anything but my uncle said I should go to sea and I’ve ended up here. It looks like fun – well, now I’ve got over the initiation thing, it does.”
“Catering college?” said William. “You might take over from me in the galley! All I do is make sandwiches and hand out drinks but it’s fun with a crew like Jack’s.” He manoeuvered Sandy to a corner of the room. “Do people say how cool-looking you are?”
“Well, no,” said Sandy, blushing yet again. “I don’t really have any friends.”
“You do now!” said William. “Me for starters. And Aaron. We saw your photo when we knew you were coming here and I wanted you to share my room but so did Aaron and we tossed for it and he won. He’s over the moon – the photo only showed your face but your legs are just fantastic! You don’t shave them, do you?”
“No!” said Sandy, blushing yet again. “That’s what the doctor asked me at the interview. No, I don’t!”
“No need to, obviously,” said William. “It’s ultra-short shorts for boys like us until we start to get hairs on our legs. Company policy. It could take some of us years!”
“Well, another one with smooth legs is the doc,” said Sandy. “How does he get into those shorts?”
“Yeah, he’s bloody gorgeous,” said William, dreamily. “For an old man.”
Sandy was beginning to realise his legs had become a topic of conversation in Timbury Cruise Lines. He’d landed with a bunch of people who thought as highly of his legs as he did himself. For many months he’d prepared for a wank by stroking his smooth, firm and rather shapely thighs. Now it looked like others might like to do it for him. William for one. Then there was the cute little Aaron who’d said something about Sandy’s yard of lovely bare leg. Sally had said he had fantastic legs ‘but let’s not go there,’ thought Sandy. Lastly, the doctor had several times complimented Sandy on his legs. ‘I wouldn’t mind him stroking my thighs again,’ thought Sandy, closing his eyes. He drank some more Cava.
“Hey, sexy legs – come down to earth!” It was the delicious Aaron. “You look like you’re in another world.”
“Oh, sorry!” said Sandy. “It’s all a bit confusing. One minute I’m going to be thrashed, the next minute everyone’s making me drink and telling me I’m great!”
“You’re not bad,” said Aaron. “This party’s nearly over and we can go to bed. Long lie-in tomorrow, remember. Oh, here’s the doc. I’ll make myself scarce.”
The doctor, brandishing a bottle of Cava, strode to Sandy and refilled his glass. “You’ll do well here, Sandy, of that I’m sure. You won’t need much more corrective training – you’re much brighter than poor little Aaron. I can’t wait to see you next time I’m down this way. I’ll take you somewhere nice for dinner. Oh, and when you next see your Uncle Ken, give him my love, won’t you?”
And with that, the handsome young doctor kissed Sandy on the cheek, patted his bottom and minced smartly away, his skin-tight shorts massively tented at the front.
In a few minutes most people decided it was time for bed and left William to tidy up and lock up. He looked yearningly at Sandy who was being escorted off the ship by Aaron. ‘One day,’ thought William, ‘I’ll get someone a bit more gentle and less hairy than Rufus. Someone who doesn’t hurt me when he has his way with me.’
“Let’s have a proper look at you then,” said Aaron to Sandy once they’d got to their room. “Clothes off and onto your bed.”
“I’m a bit shy …” said Sandy.
“Come on!” said Aaron. “You’ve seen my bum – it’s only fair I can see yours!“
Sandy took off his shirt, sandals and shorts and stood facing Aaron in just his diminutive briefs. He felt himself trembling again. And blushing. “Will this do?”
“Bloody hell, Sandy,” said Aaron, smiling sweetly, “you haven’t had much experience, have you? Let’s sit on my bed and chat.”
Sandy was much happier to do that, especially as the sight of Aaron’s caned bottom peeping from his shorts was giving him an erection. Sandy swallowed hard and asked the question he’d been dying to ask ever since Dan had pretended to cane him.
“One thing really puzzles me, Aaron. If corrective training doesn’t really mean being caned by Dan how come your bum’s a mass of cane marks?”
“Glad you asked, Sandy. Dan’s caned me and William a couple of times since we’ve been here but that’s because we were stupid and deserved it. This time it was different and now it’s my turn to blush. When we saw your photo William wanted to have you in his room but so did I and we were about to come to blows about it when Dan came up with this idea: if we were going to trap you into thinking you’d be caned for failing Dan’s test we needed to show you what his canings were like. Dan said whoever agreed to take a really vicious caning could have you in his room. William backed off then but I agreed to it. I only hope you’re worth it!”
“Thanks,” said Sandy in amazement. “I don’t know what to say. But isn’t Dan expecting you in his room, like last night?”
“Not every night, mate. And the doc’s here, isn’t he? He’ll be Dan’s guest tonight.”
“Bloody hell! Is the doc like that as well?”
“With bells on! What’s more, he likes Dan to cane him! Bloody gorgeous, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” said an astonished Sandy, trying to picture the doctor being caned by Dan.
“So I’m stuck with you, tonight,” said Aaron. “Only joking – I’m really looking forward to it. Are you ready for me?”
“But I’ve never done anything with another boy … or girl …”
“I’ll show you then. I’m only little but I’m older than you so I’m in charge!”
Sandy looked at Aaron, whose blue shorts didn’t even cover all of his bottom and saw physical perfection. He felt an urge to kiss his new friend.
“Right then!” said Aaron, smiling sweetly. “No time to waste, you’re even more gorgeous than the doctor and I want you tonight! Let’s get into bed and I’ll show you what Dan does to me. I promise to be gentle. You’re gonna love it in Timbury, Sandy!”
“Just one more thing,” said Sandy, stalling for time. “Why are your shorts so much more revealing than anyone else’s? Even more than William’s – or mine?”
“My turn to blush again,” said Aaron, blushing. “Yeah, I know they’re totally indecent but as you know, I’m always making mistakes and I’ve nearly been kicked out several times. But about four months ago, when the weather was bloody freezing, Jack said I could stay but only on condition I wore shorts of special design, his design. Loose-fitting and incredibly short. My bollocks freeze, my bum pokes out, it’s bloody embarrassing but I keep my job. It’s excruciating when we’ve got young passengers on board: the boys mostly look embarrassed for me but the little girls giggle and point and put their fingers inside my shorts. OK, so do a few boys. But the old men love it and I get loads of tips from them, specially if I agree to sit beside them for a few minutes. I’d seriously suggest you get shorts like mine – or you could borrow a pair of mine – they’re all the same size. Oh wow! The passengers would love it – and so would I!”
“So much to learn,” said Sandy, changing the subject a subtly as he could. “This is a whole new world!”
“Plenty of time for that,” said Aaron. “But I’ve noticed you get a hard-on looking at me, just as I do looking at you. If you’re a bit nervous, I could start with those fabulous legs of yours and move slowly upwards. Could take all night.”
“First, let me just get this straight,” said Sandy. “You volunteered for a horribly painful caning just so you could have me sharing your room. Is that it?”
“In a nutshell,” said Aaron. “And the more I look at you the more I think it was worth it!”
“Bloody hell!” said Sandy. For the first time he could remember, he felt wanted by someone. It was a good feeling.
Five minutes later the lights were out and Sandy was lying in bed with his silken thighs being stroked and for once it was not he doing it but someone else, the delicious Aaron. Sandy proved an eager student that night. He had to be gentle with Aaron’s aching bottom but otherwise it was cuddling, French kissing, writhing about, stroking, sucking, spilling seed and several other things Sandy had never before even dreamt of. One was kissing the weals on Aaron’s bottom to make them better. Curiously, it seemed to work.
After some wild and exciting sex, Sandy was cuddling the sleeping Aaron and thinking about his day. He didn’t want his shorts any shorter even it meant missing out on tips. No, they were far too short already. And what about the handsome young doctor knowing Uncle Ken? Was it a sexual relationship? Sandy pictured Uncle Ken patting the doctor’s bare thighs. And what about Aaron? Sandy had never cuddled another boy, let alone had sex with one and now, after the most exciting night in his young life, he was lying with the sweetest and sexiest boy in the world. Was this better than catering college? You bet it was!
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