My Father the Czar
                             Copyright 1998
                   Library of Congress number: 98-96138
                          by AUTHOR22@aol.com
                          All rights reserved

Chapter Eleven

                              + + + + +
                            May 5th, 1914
                            THE ADMIRALTY
                            St. Petersburg
                                RUSSIA


Captain Sergey Ivanov, assistant to the Chief of Naval Operations came
into his bosses office and, without being invited, slouched down in an
over-stuffed chair.

"Alexsander, we've got a problem with Veliky".

The senior officer looked up from a report he was reading, "Who? Who
the hell is Veliky?"

"He's a seaman on the Standart. But if you don't remember the name,
I'd better start from the beginning."

"Hmmmm. ...Veliky. The name sounds familiar. But I can't imagine why
the concerns of a simple seaman should wind up in this office." The
Admiral picked up his empty cup and shouted toward his secretary,
"Adrian, bring the Captain and me a fresh pot of tea."

"Let me refresh your memory a little before I start. Veliky is the
young man the Tsarevich took an interest in last year."

The admiral nodded "yes," then said: "Guess you'd better start at the
beginning."

"Piotr Veliky is the son of one of the game keepers at the Imperial
Hunting Lodge in Poland. His father apparently knows someone connected
with the Admiralty and arranged for the boy to enlist when he was
fifteen.

"After basic training he was assigned to the Yaroslav. He seems to
have been well liked by both the crew and officers. It was while the
Czar was inspecting the ship that the Tsarevich met and took a liking
to Veliky. This resulted in an invitation for lunch with the Imperial
family on the Standart.

"As chance would have it, the luncheon was scheduled on the afternoon
of the day the Yaroslav left for the Mediterranean so the Captain
transferred the boy to the Imperial Yacht."

The secretary brought in a silver tray and set a steaming pot upon the
desk, then poured two cups. Both men leaned forward and picked up
their tea while the Captain continued, "Veliky got pretty upset. It
was his intent to make a career out of the navy. His future on the
Yaroslav was pretty well mapped out. Suddenly, because of a whim of
the Tsarevich's, he found himself in strange waters.

"The Tsarevich asked Captain Prokoshov to try and straighten out the
mess he'd made and Prokoshov suggested that the boy study for the
Naval Academy. Incidentally, that is what he has been doing and
apparently is making good progress.

"Veliky met the Grand Duchess Tatiana at that same luncheon and she
too seems to have been smitten by Veliky."

The admiral looked up from his cup and said: "Now it's coming back to
me. Veliky was the sailor who had been apprehended by the Imperial
Guard after the ball at the palace last year. If I remember correctly
one of the officers of the guard was transferred to Siberia because of
that little fiasco."

"Correct. The officer had tipped off the Wedomosti that there might be
a story in the arrest.

"A couple of weeks after that, a reporter from the paper attempted to
pickup Veliky in a bar. The boy reported the matter to Prokoshov and
base security looked into it.

"As you know, the Standart is enroute to Yalta. She had stopped in
Hamburg, London and Lisbon.  Remember, she was having problems with
her boilers and we had to arrange for repairs? I ran that across your
desk several weeks ago.

"While they were in Hamburg the crew was at liberty to tour the city;
however, the Czarina had asked that her children stay on board. We
have reason to believe that the reporter from the Wedomosti had
followed them to Hamburg because, shortly after they left for London
the paper published a piece about a Russian sailor's tour of the red
light district. We think the article was referring to Veliky in the
company of Catherine Rasputin."

The admiral sat up abruptly, "You mean Gregori Rasputin's niece? I did
not realize she had accompanied the family. My god! What are we doing
running a tour agency or a navy?"

"When the Standart put into Lisbon, the Imperial family was invited to
occupy Pena Palace while the ship was undergoing repairs. The
President gave a ball for the family and Tatiana asked that Veliky be
invited. The Czarina said she didn't think it would be appropriate for
a simple seaman to attend.

"Now you are going to get a laugh out of what happened next. The
Portuguese Chief of Naval Affairs, who is the President's son, made
Veliky a temporary commander in the Portuguese navy and had him
outfitted in a uniform fitted with ribbons and medals.

"The housekeeping staff at the palace includes body servants or valets
assigned to each guest room." The admiral looked confused by this
apparent change in subject, but kept silent, presuming the two matters
would soon come together.

"Since the dance would not end until after four in the morning Veliky
was given a room next to Tatiana's. However, his valet was Maria
Rodriguez.

"The plot thickens. All of the staff are members of the Rodriguez
family and the senior Rodriguez is a broker of information. We buy
from him, so do the Germans and the English.

"The girl knew that the Standart had been in Hamburg and London and
asked Veliky whether he had seen any submarines or airships. He had
seen both and told her so.

"I suspect at that point Veliky was still a virgin and what the girl
was offering in exchange for the information was the treasure every
young boy seeks.

"Somehow the reporter got back into the story. I suspect he was trying
to find a way into the Imperial family. Anyway he and Veliky made a
connection and apparently cooked up a plot about Russia discovering
Helium. They were sure that would get the boy laid and, from all
reports, it apparently did.

"The fallout from that situation was unpredictable. Within twenty-four
hours, everyone in the world had heard that we had discovered a supply
of Helium in Siberia.

"All of Germany's airships are filled with Hydrogen and are probably
the most dangerous vehicles man has ever invented. The Czarina had met
with the Kaiser and, of course, she had said nothing about Helium.
Last week two of his smaller Zeppelins collided and everyone was
killed, so the Kaiser is very angry with us for not sharing our
discovery.

"I think we should get Veliky out of circulation, so I propose that we
immediately transfer him to the Naval Academy under the pretext that
he will need to take some remedial classes before the next semester
begins."

The admiral put down his cup and said: "So what did de-virginizing
Veliky cost us?"

"Plenty. If you consider what we paid for the information, plus the
investigation I initiated before I brought this to you. Do you want me
to put together an estimate?"

"Good God No! Bury it.  Is there anything else?"

"No, except we'd better do something to defuse the situation with the
Germans. They have been courting Austria and Hungary and have actually
signed several protective treaties pitting those territories against
us. This puts our relationship with Bosnia and Serbia in jeopardy.
From all accounts, the Kaiser is engaged in a massive buildup of sea
power. Of course men like Count von Zeppelin would like nothing better
than a war so they could play with their new toys. We can't rely on
the Belgians, they have treaties with both Germany and with us.

"I'd like to see some of our heavy ships in the Mediterranean and I'd
sure recommend we bring the Standart back to St. Petersburg as soon as
possible."

The admiral sighed, "Well ... what the Standart does is beyond my
control. The best I can do is recommend it to the Czar; but, when it
comes to family matters, he pretty much ignores everyone except the
Czarina and Rasputin.

"Keep me posted on the Veliky matter." He stood up and stretched,
reseated himself, then added: "Have Veliky report to this office
before he goes to the Academy. I want to meet this fellow before we
bury him in school."

                              + + + + +

Ever since the Standart had docked in Tangiers, Piotr Veliky had been
on the lookout for his new friend and source of information, Sasha
Romkoski, Reporter for the St. Petersburg News.

His escapade with Maria Rodriguez had been well worth the effort. He
owed the newsman and it was his intent to repay the debit, even though
he no longer had any use for details on submarines or airships.

He had not, as yet, broached the subject of the interview with
Catherine. There had been several times during their tour of the city
during which he might have spoken to her alone but, each time he made
the attempt, either her attention was suddenly taken else where, or
Tatiana had demanded his.

On the morrow they would be leaving for Algiers and this afternoon
they were to visit another Bazaar at which time they would be seeing
snake charmers and would also enjoy a camel ride.

The snake charmers he could do without. He was not frightened, he just
didn't care for them. He also hoped that he could get a photograph of
himself and Tatiana on a camel. He would love to send it home to his
father -he and the Grand Duchess together on the same animal.

The pace of the day was increasing as the Imperial family made ready
to go ashore on this last tour. It had started with a late breakfast.
The fact that the day was planned had resulted in everyone showing up
in the aft salon at the same time.

Piotr Veliky occupied an odd, and sometimes awkward, position on the
ship. First and foremost, he was a lowly seaman in the Russian Navy
serving onboard the Imperial Yacht. No where in the job descriptions
for the crew was there a position which included companion to the
Tsarevich or boyfriend of Tatiana. His roster of duties had been
assembled by the Captain specifically to accommodate the need to have
him on the Standard. This particular morning, he was pressed into
service bringing food from the galley to the breakfast table. A little
later he would be transformed from waiter to guest when they would
assemble at the motorcade to start the tour.

He was pouring a hot cup of tea for Catherine and whispered: "I need
to speak with you privately. Let me know when it is convenient."

Alex-P/Catherine returned the whisper, "Come to my cabin as soon as
breakfast is over."

Forty-five minutes later, the sailor was standing in the passageway of
the family quarters. He looked both ways to make certain he was not
being observed and then knocked quietly twice. Almost immediately, the
door opened and he passed through into the cabin.

"Make yourself comfortable." Catherine pointed toward one of two
chairs next to a small table. After the boy seated himself, she
lowered herself into the other. "We haven't had a chance to spend much
time together since we left London. You were always busy in Lisbon."

He shrugged his shoulders as if to say it was beyond his control and
unimportant, but said: "I'm sure things will change."

Alex-P/Catherine looked at him inquiringly, "What did you want to talk
to me about?"

"I met a newspaper man from St. Petersburg. He's really an all-right
guy, and he is doing a feature piece for the Wedomosti to enhance the
public's perception of the Imperial family. He want's to meet you."

"You know how the Czarina feels about the press. She wouldn't be happy
about my talking with a reporter."

"Please Catherine. It would be doing me a real favor. You don't need
to tell him anything you don't want to. He's not pushy. He won't try
to trick you into saying things you shouldn't."

"When would this meeting take place?"

"I thought -this afternoon. While the others are touring, we could
breakaway for a short while."

It had been a long time since Alex-P had played the game Uncle Gregori
had taught him so, while Piotr chatted away, Alex-P turned off the
sound and observed the sailor's body movements while listening only to
the intonations of speech. Finally he decided to meet with the
reporter. His reasoning was that if the reporter was a threat to the
Imperial family, he might be able to detect it and warn everyone.

Piotr was quite pleased that Catherine had agreed. "When we join the
others, you must find a reason to ride with me rather than with the
family."

After her guest had left, Alex-P thought more about the forthcoming
meeting. Alarm bells were ringing: "Be careful! You will be talking
with a man who makes his living from ferreting out information that is
not common knowledge." Her number one priority must be the suppression
of her masculinity. As far as any questions and answers which might be
thrown around, they could be based on the truth; and the truth was
that Catherine had not existed prior to Perm. He would substitute the
existence of the little girl who had pointed to his pee pee for his
own.

He went to his wardrobe to select appropriate attire for the tour.
With temperatures in the upper 90's, the dress must be airy and
lightweight. Since he would be slipping away from the main party, the
garment should not be so bright as to draw attention. He finally
settled on one of Maria's old summer frocks. It must have been for
their summer trips to Yalta. It was just right for North Africa, but
far too light weight for St. Petersburg even in the hottest part of
July.

He fitted the hook of the hanger over the wardrobe door. It was light
tan with a full skirt. The fabric was flared out from the hips so well
that he could get away with wearing it without underpants. Hopefully
an occasional breeze might cool his crotch. There was also a matching
hat that was almost the size of a small umbrella, which would shade
his head and relieve the itching that almost always accompanied the
wearing of the wig in direct sunlight.

After dressing himself, he checked his appearance in a mirror, then
went next door to the Tsarevich's cabin and knocked. There was no
answer, but a steward came into the passageway and said: "They have
all gone ashore. You'd better hurry along."

The delay was well timed as the Czarina and her children already
occupied the second car. Piotr, another sailor and two British
Soldiers were standing alongside the first vehicle. The rest of the
security detail were in the third and fourth.

Piotr waved at Catherine as she descended the gangway, beckoning her
to join them.

Alex-P had decided that the best way to suppress his masculinity was
to over power the environment with sexuality, get Piotr horny and keep
him that way.

The other sailor sat alongside the civilian driver. Piotr and
Catherine were seated in the back in between the two Britt's. As soon
as the car started, Catherine grabbed Piotr's hand and held it between
them, sandwiched between their hips. Then she began stroking his hand
and ended up stroking the length of his middle finger. She was pleased
at the results as Piotr's chlen immediately responded. It lay pointing
downward along his leg, just an inch or so from her hand.

The boy removed his hat and put it in his lap.

As they turned a corner, Alex-P leaned across Piotr, pointing to a
shop, and said: "Isn't that where we were the other day?" But, in
reality, it was only an excuse to cover the boy's hat with her body
while she slipped her hand under it, grasped the very hard shaft and
stroked it for several seconds until it was pulsating in a steady
rhythm on its own.

After several more turns, their car came to a stop at an intersection.
To their left was a street full of temporary stalls. The two Britts
and the other sailor stepped out of the vehicle and immediately joined
the security people who had assembled in front of the second car.
Piotr leaned forward and spoke to the driver, handing him a slip of
paper, "Can you take us to this address? We will return in a taxi."

The driver looked at the slip of paper, nodded his head and drove off
as the rest of the Imperial party proceeded down the street full of
vendors.

Piotr leaned over and whispered in Catherine's ear, "You are a naughty
girl." But his breathing was saying, "More please!" His hat was still
in place but bobbed up and down as Alex-P teased the shaft. The sailor
unbuttoned his fly to give her better access. There was now flesh to
flesh contact as Alex took the instrument into her hand stroking its
full length. Moisture was now lubricating the strokes and the
fragrance of passion rose to both of their nostrils.

The car slowed to a stop and the driver pointed towards a Cafe.
Hurriedly, Piotr buttoned his trousers and held his hat in front of
him as they stepped out onto the street.

Piotr's passion was burning the air as they walked into the dim light
of the bistro. He looked around and saw Sasha sitting in a far corner.
A waiter came toward them, but Piotr was already leading Alex-
P/Catherine toward the reporter.

"Sasha, this is Catherine Rasputin."

The reporter stood and motioned for them to sit. "What would you like
to drink?"

Catherine said: "Just a cold glass of white wine would be nice."

Piotr ordered a cold beer.

The reporter immediately felt the heavy passion that the sailor was
radiating toward the girl. Without knowing what had transpired in the
car, he knew that Piotr's focus was getting the girl into bed.
However, that was not the purpose of this meeting. "Piotr, why don't
you return to the tour while I speak with Catherine. Then I will see
her back to the ship."

Reluctantly Piotr rose, still holding his hat in front of him, smiled
at Catherine and said: "Can we talk further when you return?" His
voice was husky and his breathing somewhat labored.

"If it is not too late? I'll try."

As Piotr set foot onto the street Sasha excused himself for a moment
and caught up with him. "Piotr I have some news for you, but you must
not let anyone know."

"Please do not keep Catherine too long. I want to have some time with
her this afternoon."

"That is pretty obvious. But I would think it rather dangerous
--fucking Catherine while Tatiana is interested in you." Then he went
on, "Well it's rather a moot point. You are being transferred to the
Naval Academy immediately. They will probably detach you here or as
soon as the Standart reaches Algiers."

Piotr just stared at him, "What? How do you know of this?"

"I received a wire from my editor. He had a tip from the Admiralty.
You will probably get your orders as soon as you get back to your
ship. Please look surprised, I would just as soon that the Navy
doesn't know that we have our information sources. That's all I wanted
to tell you. I probably won't see you for quite sometime; although, I
too have been ordered back to St. Petersburg."

The reporter shook the sailor's hand, and then returned to Catherine.

Now by themselves, Catherine sat quietly observing the man. "You were
at Pena Palace in Lisbon, were you not?"

The waiter brought a large round pastry to the table.

Sasha explained, "That is a specialty of the house. It is curried
chicken with almonds. The crust is flaky and sweet. It is also very
hot so be careful."

Catherine looked around for a fork or spoon, then looked questionably
at her host.

"You eat it with your fingers. But be careful, work around the outer
edges."

They sat back and sipped their drinks while nibbling on the delicacy.
Then Sasha asked her where she had been born and about her early
years. She delayed each response, giving careful thought to each
answer. Frequently her answers required that more details be added to
each question. In reality Alex-P/Catherine was getting more
information than she was giving. It would be several days before the
reporter reflected over the interview and realized the skill of this
young girl.

What she had learned was that:

1. Sasha's full time assignment was the Imperial Family.

2. Piotr was wrong, the man's intent was not the humanization of the
Romanovs. Regardless of the man's personal feelings, his stories would
be accurate and factual.

3. The political condition of Russia was extremely unstable and
dangerous.

4. Many people had a grudge against both the Romanov family and Uncle
Gregori.

5. Europe was on the brink of war and Russia would most likely be the
catalyst that started it. It would be England, France and Russia on
one side, with Germany and Austria on the other.

6. Piotr's getting laid in Lisbon may have contributed to the rift
between Germany and Russia.

7. Uncle Gregori's teachings were quite valuable --an unusual
observation for a girl/boy who had just turned thirteen.

The interview had taken longer than the reporter had expected. He had
not heard much that he didn't already know. It was a clandestine
meeting. Still, he would prefer that the Czarina not become aware of
his interest. So, despite the feeling that the discussion had not gone
as far as he would have liked, the lateness of the hour pushed him
into taking the girl back to the Standart.

Piotr's absence had gone undetected. The Tsarevich was poking at two
camels while both of his older sisters were looking rather disgusted
at the scene. Apparently Olga had not been fast enough to avoid being
spit upon by one of the beasts.

Piotr came up beside Tatiana and encircled her waist with his left
arm, "Would you like to mount one of those? We could ask Alex to take
a picture."

She snuggled back against him. "Sure. Why not? If nothing else, it
will show that Olga has no sense of adventure. Did you see how she
reacted when Alex brought that snake close to her? I thought she was
going to swoon right there in the middle of the street."

They asked the animal's owner if they might mount the camel. He was
eager to please. A crowd of tourists had gathered around the outer
perimeter watching the Imperial family.

The animal knelt on command. Tatiana and Piotr climbed onto a platform
made of wooden crates. Both he and the owner lifted and pushed the
grand duchess so that she was seated sideways, her legs resting
against the left side. She reached down to help Piotr climb on and, in
doing so, almost unseated herself; however, with the help of the owner
and an Arab boy, he found himself astride the camel with Tatiana in
his arms. His chlen had immediately reacted to the heat of the animal
and the proximity of the girl. She glanced over her shoulder and
wiggled even tighter against the protrusion resting against her hip.
Piotr closed his eyes and tried to think of something distasteful in
an attempt to take his mind off of his chlen, but it didn't work. The
memory of Catherine's massaging fingers made the head of his penis
throb. He could feel the pre-cum oozing, his crotch feeling noticeably
wet.

Alex had moved closer with his camera. Piotr forced his mind away from
his impending climax and asked: "My Tsarevich, would you take our
picture?"

Alex placed the accordion shaped black device at stomach level, peered
down into the prism like viewfinder and snapped the shutter. "Let me
take a few more just in case that one doesn't come out." In all, he
took almost a dozen photographs from different angles with the couple
in different poses.

Posing for the camera did take his mind away from his discomfort. His
penis had not deflated, but it no longer throbbed.

Finally, Piotr helped Tatiana slide off of the animal. Once she had
stepped onto the street, he slid down, his stomach against the animal
in an attempt to hide his uncontrollable erection. The heat, the
friction and the vivid memory of Catherine's teasings were too much to
overcome and he instantly spent himself. He vowed that in the future
he would wear underpants.

                              + + + + +

The distance between Tangiers and Algiers is approximately 650 miles
or about two days at sea aboard the Standart.

The Mediterranean, once they had passed through the Straits of
Gibraltar, turned into a quiet waterway lulling those who were on her
surface into a feeling of utter tranquillity.

The ship stood out ten miles from the northern shoreline of the coast
of North Africa. Nothing stirred the hot early afternoon air; not a
breeze, not even a wisp of wind. Even their movement seemed to be
ignored by the Storm-God as though he was consciously moving the air
in the same direction and at the same speed as were these interlopers
into his domain.

A messenger from the radio room entered the bridge and saluted his
Captain. "Message from the Admiralty, Capt'n."

The officer's eye noticed the date of origination, May fifth, then the
date of transmission from St. Petersburg which was today, the twelfth.
"Was this message encrypted?"

Before the messenger could reply the Captain noticed that the
transmission instructions were marked "plain language" and "priority
3".

The body of the document read:

"Seaman Piotr Veliky reassigned this date to the Imperial Naval
Academy, St. Petersburg. He is to report to the office of the Chief of
Naval Operations as soon as possible. Commercial transportation is
authorized. Time rather than economy is emphasized."

The captain again looked at the heading. "Who in CNOP was the author?"
Captain Sergey Ivanov. The old man scratched his head wondering what
the urgency was. He had not spoken with Ivanov in many years even
though the Standart was docked less than 2 miles from CNOP at the
Admiralty. The Admiral, Ivanov and he had been in the same class at
the Academy many years ago. But the other two had been close friends
even before they had reached the age of puberty.

The captain looked up at the messenger, "That will be all." Before the
man had reached the exit, the old man said, "Have Veliky report to me
immediately."

Actually, Captain Prokoshov was among the last of the crew to learn
that "The Imperial Darling" was being transferred. The radiogram had
not been encoded so the news had spread across the vessel even before
the last of the transmission had been received.

The radio operator as a matter of procedure had added the distribution
list to the heading. The Captain, to whom it had been addressed, was
at the top of the list, followed by the Czarina, with the target of
the orders at the bottom.

The Captain turned over the deck to a young lieutenant, "I will be in
the aft salon if I'm needed."

The Imperial family had turned the aft salon into a gathering place.
There were only three places on the Standart that they usually could
be found: their bedrooms, the aft salon and the aft deck.

It was rather late in the day. The sun was hours beyond its zenith. As
the Captain entered the salon, he noticed the Czarina and her eldest
daughter, Olga, coming in from the open deck.

"Your Majesty, we have received a radiogram from the Admiralty which
you should know about."

"Oh?" She had received her daily radiogram from her husband last night
and there was nothing particularly note worthy in it. Mostly he was
expressing his love for her and telling her how much he missed his
children.

"I have received orders from the Admiralty that Veliky is being
transferred to the Naval Academy. I have instructions to send him on
his way as soon as we dock in Algiers."

"Thank you Captain. I presume you have told Piotr?"

"Not yet your highness. I've sent a messenger to look for him."

"Very well. Olga, ask Tatiana and Aleksey to come to me."

Olga turned around and returned to the aft deck. Almost immediately
Tatiana came in by herself. "Mama, Aleksey has gone to his cabin.
Would you like for me to go get him?"

"No. I just wanted you to know that Piotr has been reassigned to the
Naval Academy. He will be leaving us as soon as we arrive in Algiers.
The Captain just informed me."

The girl stared at her mother, then burst into tears. "Oh Mama! Can't
you do something? I don't want him to leave. I love him Mama. Please
do something. Tell the Captain that YOU are changing his orders.
Please!"

"Tatiana, you knew that this day would come. Piotr has been studying
for the Academy for months. He wants to be a career officer. And
remember, it is quite rare for a boy from his background to be awarded
the opportunity to attend the Academy. He is not an aristocrat. If you
truly care for him, then you should not stand in his way."

"But Mama, I love him."

"Your father would never interfere with military operations and
neither shall I."

The door to the salon opened and the Tsarevich entered. He started to
speak, but hesitated when he noticed that his sister was in tears.

"Mama, what has happened? Why is Tatiana crying?"

"Those are tears of happiness. Piotr has been accepted into the Naval
Academy."

"That isn't news. We knew he would be attending next year.  Captain
Prokoshov assured us of that quite sometime ago."

"No Aleksey, you do not understand. He is being transferred as soon as
we reach Algiers."

The image of Piotr standing naked in his cabin while washing the dye
from his hair was the only thing that flashed into the Tsarevich's
mind. He could not erase the picture that he had seen for just a
moment; that of Piotr standing close to him, that beautiful chlen
raised high from a forest of pubic hair. Quite suddenly he knew what
he had to do; Alex-P/Catherine had already set the stage. If he had
any chance of knowing the sailor more intimately, it would have to be
in the guise of Catherine.

"I am happy for Piotr. I know it is what he has always wanted." He
turned as if to leave the salon, then added: "I must find Catherine.
She will want to know."

Quite suddenly, the story that Alex-P had told him of his meeting with
the reporter from the newspaper, together with the detailed
description of how "Catherine" had saturated the atmosphere with sex;
his memory of how Piotr had looked when he had slid off of that camel,
combined with that memory of Piotr naked and with an erection was
almost more than he could bare. He moved quickly toward Alex-P's
cabin.

He looked both ways to assure himself that he was not being observed
and then knocked lightly on Catherine's cabin door.

There was a delay of a few seconds. The Tsarevich was nervous. His
chlen was throbbing against his trouser leg. He knocked again. This
time he heard movement, then the door opened.

"Oh. It's you. What do you want?" Alex-P was rubbing his eyes as
though he had just been awakened from a nap.

The Tsarevich pushed his way into the room and closed the door behind
him. "Piotr is being sent back to St. Petersburg. Probably tomorrow."

Catherine looked at him, then kind of laughed. "Something has got you
worked up! Your petooshock isn't so little."

"I want to trade places with you. Don't you think we need the
practice?"

Again Alex-P/Catherine paused before answering, "Does that rod of your
have anything to do with switching? If it does, then I don't think it
is a good idea. He will discover that you're not a woman."

"Well it's not up to you. Must I remind you that it is I who is the
real Tsarevich!"

This was the first time Alex-T had asserted his position over Alex-P
and it did not set well with the peasant boy. "You are making a big
mistake. This whole idea of my being able to stand in for you was
yours; yet, you are putting the results of all our efforts in
jeopardy. Uncle Gregori would not permit it. Do you have so little
regard for his dedication to you?"

"He's the last one that should stand in my way. All of St. Petersburg
knows of his reputation with women. ...And it was you that got Piotr
in such a mood that almost anyone could have his way with him." Alex-T
opened the wardrobe and selected a light frock and held it against
himself. He then began to remove his clothes, tossing them onto the
bed. "Put these on and let me have the wig!"

One lesson that Alex-P had learned from Rasputin was the value of
remaining calm and appearing to go with what was being forced upon
you. Every situation had its opportunities. He pulled the dress off
over his head.  He could feel Alex-T's eyes on his exposed body. The
stare at his crotch caused his chlen to inflate. The Tsarevich moved
toward him. Both boys stood there naked, organs inflated.

Playfully Alex-T pushed Alex-P onto the bed, "Well, then I guess you
have been elected to be my mistress." They wrestled on the bed,
pushing the discarded clothing to the floor. "Ouch! Don't bite."

"Tell me about the bruise on your neck ...and where did you get that
silly pendant? You had better make certain no one else sees it. A
golden Chlen and YA-Y-TS-A (cock and balls), indeed!"

The sudden reminder of the Arab boy in Tangiers had a cooling effect.
Alex-T wished there was some way he could return to that bedroom and
into the arms of that boy of the night.

The mood was broken. Alex-T climbed off of the bed and put on the
dress; then bent over and picked up the shirt and pants he had worn
into the room and handed them to Alex-P. "Come on, get dressed. Let me
have the hairpiece. At least until tomorrow you will be the Tsarevich
and I shall be Catherine."

Alex-P took a few personal things from his bedside drawer, kissed
Alex-T on the cheek and said: "Well, if I am to be KING, I might as
well start!" He then left the cabin. After depositing his gatherings
in the Tsarevich's stateroom, he checked his appearance in a mirror
and headed out to the aft deck to join "his" family.

Tatiana had still not recovered from her emotional outburst. She sat
beside her mother, red eyed and pouting. When she saw her brother, she
said: "Oh Alexsey. Piotr is leaving tomorrow as soon as we dock in
Algiers. Isn't there something we can do to at least delay his
departure until we get back to St. Petersburg?"

Alex-P as the Tsarevich moved alongside his "sister". He put his hand
under her chin, raised it and said: "No we should not interfere
Tatiana. After all, it is a big step for Piotr. His future will be
decided in the next few days." Gathering wisdom from he knew not
where, he thought about what might be on the boy's horizon and
predicted: "Piotr can remain here with us, be a simple seaman in our
navy and, within a few months or maybe even a year, he would go his
way and that would be the end of it. On the other hand, if he seizes
this opportunity and does well at the Academy, he could become one of
our military leaders." He paused to let what he said sink into the
girl's mind; then, almost in a whisper, continued: "And as such he
would be acceptable as the husband of the Grand Duchess Tatiana
Romanov."

The tears stopped and were replaced by a simple, lovely smile.
"Aleksey, you are the best brother a girl could hope to have." She
leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. "Sometimes you can be so
difficult. Yet in an instant you can change into the most intelligent,
loving person. I really do love you. Do you know where Piotr is?"

That question suddenly became an opportunity ... the opportunity to
divert Alex-T from his destructive plan of the seduction of the
sailor. "I have not seen him. I would think that he is in the crew's
quarters packing his things for departure in Algiers. Ask the steward
to find him." Without waiting for his sister's response he beckoned a
nearby attendant. "Please ask Piotr Veliky to join us as soon as
possible."

The steward bowed, "Yes my Tsarevich. I will attend to the matter." As
soon as he was in the passageway leading to the crew's quarters, the
man grinned to himself, putting together what he was going to say to
his shipmate.

Piotr was rummaging through his things, rolling, then unrolling
garments and carefully placing them in his seabag.

"Hey Veliky, your Hui (rude word for cock) is needed topside."

Piotr looked up at the approaching man. He had gotten used to the
needling from his shipmates, so he laughed and said: "I don't know
what for, there isn't much of it left since Lisbon."

Not to be out done, the steward replied: "Oh? I heard you tried to add
a third hump to that camel in Tangiers."

"You are just jealous."

What he heard was said in jest, but it was none the less true. "I
wished one of 'them' would take a liking to me."

"So what would your wife and kids have to say about that?"

The reference to the steward's family brought him back to earth,
"Well, let's put it this way, I sure wish I could have had your
opportunities when I was your age. By the way, Stinowsky is sick and
the Captain has put your name on the duty roster as assistant steward
for the mid watch tonight.

"Who wants me top side?"

"The Tsarevich and Tatiana. They were on the aft deck, but they should
be assembling in the salon for dinner. I'd better get back and start
setting the table. Will you be eating with them, or serving them, or
what?"

"Damned if I know. I doubt that I will be eating with them. No one has
asked me. I haven't been assigned any duty in that area either."

"Well, don't be surprised to find yourself serving chow. As I said,
Stinowsky is sick and we are short handed." The steward returned to
the aft deck while Piotr stuffed the last roll of clothes into his sea
bag and tied the top.

He was in a randy state. Catherine had him so worked up that all he
could think about was sinking his chlen into her and this very thought
brought it to attention. Reaching down inside his trousers, he
positioned it vertically so that it was held fast by his belt. After
examining himself to make certain it did not show, he proceeded up the
ladder to the main deck. Every step forced his cock up and down
against his belt. He actually had to stop. One more step and he would
have climaxed. He turned around, returned to his quarters, opened his
seabag and extracted a jock strap. After putting it on, he tucked his
still raging erection so that it curled under his balls. It was not
comfortable, but it did not titillate him.

Piotr found the Tsarevich in the aft salon with the rest of the
Imperial Family and Catherine. Tatiana and Catherine were talking to
each other, but stopped as soon as they saw him. He approached the
Tsarevich, "My Tsarevich, you wished to see me?"

"Yes. Actually Tatiana wanted to see you. In as much as this will
probably be our last night together, I thought it best you spend as
much time with her as possible ...that is if you are not occupied
elsewhere."

"No sir. I have my things packed. I have the mid watch tonight and
expect to leave the Standart sometime before sixteen hundred hours
tomorrow."

"Very well. The Grand Duchess awaits." It was an odd phrase, stated
more in humor than seriously; however, the young sailor took it
seriously, bowed from the waist, then noticed Catherine and Tatiana
looking at him and laughing.

He spoke up as he moved toward them, "--And what are you two laughing
about?"

Tatiana giggled and replied, "You look so silly bowing like that to
Aleksey."

He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.

The rest of the evening was frustrating for Piotr. Having his way with
Tatiana was not possible. The Czarina would not let the girl out of
her sight. On the other hand, Catherine was flirting outrageously with
him and that seemed to irritate Tatiana. On several occasions, he
tried to talk to Catherine alone but, every time he did, either
Tatiana or the Czarina intruded.

It became apparent that he would not bed either of the girls. He had
worn his jock strap and it was a good thing that he had since his
chlen kept going up and down. Finally he joined the Tsarevich. He
asked for instructions on getting to the gypsies' camp in St.
Petersburg. Alex-P as the Tsarevich told him as much as he remembered.
Piotr asked him to repeat the story of that evening when he and
Gregori Rasputin had visited the gypsies.

It was then that Alex-P realized that Alex-T had spoken to Piotr about
the adventure and he wondered how much of the story the sailor had
heard. He was also concerned that the Tsarevich might have expanded
upon the truth; but, after a moment's thought, he realized that it
would be difficult to expand on what had actually happened. "Piotr, we
really can't talk about that here."

Piotr's memory was vivid. He could see himself standing naked
alongside Aleksey with an erection that almost touched him on the
cheek. He had suspected the boy was interested as he noticed Aleksey's
petooshock peaking at him. He wondered....

"My Tsarevich, since I am leaving the ship tomorrow I wanted to make
certain you knew just how much I appreciated what you have done for
me. If it hadn't been for you, I never would have gained entrance to
the Naval Academy." He paused for a long time, building up courage,
then almost blurted out, "May I wash your hair again like I did that
night. I truly want to do something to show my appreciation."

Alex-P decided that he would like to know a great deal more about
Alex-T's interest in Veliky; but, at the same time, he would have to
be very careful. Above all, Veliky could not learn that this Tsarevich
was an impostor; but, Alex-P had learned many lessons from Uncle
Gregori. He felt confident that he could play the roll. "When would
you like to do it?"

"I have the mid-watch tonight. I will tell the cook that you got
something in your hair and asked me to wash it for you. Things should
be very quiet by one or two. Would that be all right?"

"That is very late, but I can sleep-in tomorrow. Knock lightly, we
don't want to disturb the others."

It was half-past midnight when Alex-P heard the expected tap on his
door. He quickly opened the door, ushered Piotr in and motioned for
him to sit down, but the sailor continued to stand and said: "Remember
last time ...we got everything wet. We'd both better remove our
clothes."

Alex-P blinked and began to smile. There was a lot more to this story
than he had expected. He nodded his head in the affirmative. Piotr
slipped his uniform jumper over his head, kicked off his shoes and
-having already removed the jock strap before going on duty this
evening- slipped his trousers to the floor while watching Alex-P lay
the bathrobe he was wearing on the bed.

Piotr moved a chair into the bathroom. Alex-P followed him, then sat
down with his head resting on the edge of the basin. The sailor moved
closer, turned the two spigots on adjusting them to a pleasing
temperature.

There was the aroma of sex in the air, just as there had been when, as
Catherine, he had played with Piotr on the way to the interview with
the reporter. He looked to the side and saw that Piotr had an
erection. Not just a simple inflation of his chlen, but an enormous
arousal. Despite the fact that he had bent way over, the instrument
was close enough that he could feel its heat.

Alex-P looked up at Piotr's face. The boy was concentrating on his
task, using it as an excuse not to make eye contact. For some reason
that he could not fathom, for some totally unconscious reason, he
reached over and grasped the shaft and stroked it as he had done in
the car. The sailor moaned, "Oh that feels so good! Catherine did that
to me day before yesterday; then, after getting me so hot that I
couldn't stand it, she just left me that way" After a moment's pause,
he continued: "You probably didn't realize it, but when I slid off of
that camel, I shot my load. That wasn't camel sweat on my pants."

Alex-P built up a little speed in his stroking and soon Piotr moaned
loudly: "I'm about there. Oh Yesssss. Yessss Yesss." His thrusts were
going at an incredible speed. Then it happened. His thrusting slowed,
but became twice as hard. Alex-P felt the boy's cock grow and throb in
his hand. Then, with one final thrust so hard that it felt as if Piotr
were trying to bang his abdomen against Alex's cheek, he emitted a
yell so sweet that it brought all of their fantasies into focus. There
were no lessons from Uncle Gregori here, there were only the two of
them. Alex had got caught up in Piotr's passion. The sailor stood so
close to Alex that he could feel the heat from his chlen, both of
their chests were heaving, sweat running from their bodies. Alex's
mind tried to rationalize his feelings. The terms "ecstasy", "bliss"
and "euphoria", -multiplied together thousands of times, didn't even
come close to describing how he felt. There were no worries or
concerns, no fears, no secrets - only an undeniable and unbreakable
lust which had driven him beyond what he had planed.

As the throbbing cock swelled to hurl its first shot, Alex-P aimed the
penis into the sink, watched the sperm jet onto the water's surface
and then float around in swirls as some of it began to sink. When the
last drop appeared to have ejected, Alex-P asked, "Was this the real
reason for the visit."

"Oh no your highness. I really wanted to show you how much I
appreciated your attention." Piotr blushed as he realized the double
meaning of what he had said.

"Well, I guess I had better let you get some sleep. The cook will
wonder why I've been gone so long. I get off duty at four and I'll
wager it's close to that now."

His visitor had been gone for nearly  half an hour. Alex-P lay naked
upon his bed. He was not aroused; instead, he chuckled to himself. He
had learned a great deal more about the relationship between the
Tsarevich and Veliky than he had expected to. Also, he felt the hand
job was only fair; "Catherine" was, afterall, the reason for Piotr's
hypersexual state.

Alex-T had not been able to sleep. The night was hot and humid. But it
wasn't just that. He was angry with himself, angry with his sister and
even with his mother. They had kept him from having Piotr to himself.
Finally, in frustration, he got out of bed, put on that stupid dress
and wig, and prepared to take a stroll on deck. The clock read 4:30.

He was not aware that, as he sat on an iron cleat at the tip of the
ships bow, the target of his frustration was crawling, satisfied, into
his bunk in the crew's quarters. Alex-T looked around carefully,
making certain no one was watching, pulled up his skirt and jacked off
into the night air.

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