Date: Tue, 24 Jul 2001 20:18:11
From: andy macdonald <andymacdon@hotmail.com>
Subject: Young-Sea-Soldier-3

                         A Young Sea Soldier by Andy Macdonald.
                                andymacdon@hotmail.com

Legal Notice: The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual
acts. The story is a work of fiction and has little basis in reality.

The author retains copyright to this story. Placing this story on a website
or reproducing this story for distribution without the author's permission
is a violation of that copyright.

PART III - Three's a crowd.

We took the taxi back to the yacht and had no sooner got back on board
than my mobile rang. It was Alistair:

"Hello Andy, 'fraid I've got another wounded warrior for you. Not as bad
this time but he's got to come back to the boat. He really shouldn't
stay out on the hill tonight. We've evacuated him down to the road and
I've arranged for the local police to bring him down to the harbour,
they should be there any time now and I'd be grateful if you could meet
them with the dinghy and add the casualty to your collection. The rest
of us will be back at dusk tomorrow night as planned. Can you cope?

"Sure Alistair," I answered. No probs. I'll look after the halt and the
lame. See you tomorrow then."

Shit. That would fuck up our fun tonight. Two's company but three would
most definitely be a crowd. I wonder which of the soldiers it would be.

I jumped down into the dinghy and started up the outboard. Billy let go
the lines and I motored ashore to the jetty where I could see a police
car already waiting. I came alongside and there were two policemen and a
muddy, wet and bedraggled looking soldier.

McNeil! Shit.that lippy young fucker.

"OK," said one of the policemen. "I've got a casualty for you. Can you
manage lad?"

"Aye, Ah'm OK the noo," McNeil mumbled.

He climbed into the boat and his gear was passed down to him.

"What's your problem?" I enquired.

"Got hypothermia up on the hill," he muttered. "Ma bivvy leaked and ma
sleepin' bag wis soaked. Couldn'ae dae onythin' frae masell. The fuckin'
Captain said for me tae come away back tae the boat."

He certainly looked in a hell of a state. His clothing was filthy as was
his gear. He sat shivering in the boat, a bundle of cold, wet khaki
misery.

I steered the dinghy back to the yacht and Billy came to the side to
secure the lines and drag McNeil's gear on board.

"S'all richt for you," McNeil whined when he saw Billy. "Sittin' here on
the fukin' yacht all dry and warm. Wid ye look at the state of me?
Onyways ah'm here the noo and tae spend the nicht on board. Bet that'll
ruin yer fun 'n games."

Billy dumped the wet gear down onto the deck and went below. If all he
was going to get was a slagging off then his fellow soldier could deal
with his own gear. I felt the same and joined Billy in the saloon
leaving McNeil to drag himself and his equipment down below by himself.

"Best get all that dirty gear off and have a long hot shower," I told
him.

McNeil slunk off into the fo'c'sle and stripped off his clothes. Billy
and I ignored him, he crept into the shower and soon steam was billowing
out."

Without my needing to say anything Billy had gone into the galley and
was preparing a rich army-ration stew for the three of us. McNeil
emerged in a cloud of steam and rooted through the gear in his locker to
find some clean, dry clothes.

"How're you feeling?" I asked him.

"Reckon ah'm a lot better," he replied, "Ah'm no shiverin' the noo.
Could dae with a tot though" and he looked hopefully across to the booze
locker which he'd obviously spotted earlier in the voyage.

"No chance," I said, "that's the worst thing you could have until your
body temperature is totally back to normal. Best you get some hot food
inside you and then we'll see."

Very soon Billy's 'all-in' stew was ready and the three of us tucked
into large steaming bowls of the excellent concoction. Both of the young
soldiers dispatched a second bowl and Billy then served a solid chunk of
'plum duff' covered in a thick, hot chocolate sauce. Three steaming mugs
of hot, strong tea rounded off the feast and by now McNeil was looking
his usual cocky self again.

"How're you doing now McNeil," I asked him, "do you think you should get
into your sleeping bag?"

"Ma bags soakin' wet and onywys ah'm OK the noo. Dinnae feel cold at
'a."

"Well OK, if you're sure. In that case how about you wash up the dishes
while I look at Billy's dressing."

"Fuckin' Billy is it? I thocht his name wis Private Benson. Guess it's
Billy bum-boy . . . ." this last remark was muttered under his breath
and I chose to ignore it but Billy went very red, he'd heard it
alright..

With a sour look McNeil gathered up the bowls and cutlery and slid off
into the galley. While he was washing the dishes he continued to
grumble. I only caught a few words but they were generally to the effect
that while the two of us had been on board by ourselves unnatural
practices were bound to have taken place.

I grabbed the medical kit and turned to Billy who, seeing what I was
doing, was already sliding down his trousers so I could get at his knee.
I looked at the dressing and it seemed fine so I decided not to change
it. I glanced up and caught McNeil staring at Billy's half naked body.
His gaze shot away guiltily and he continued with the washing up but I
was sure that I could see a disturbance in his groin. I was sure that it
had to be Billy, sitting with his trousers around his ankles was causing
McNeil's arousal.

"Hey! Look at McNeil," I whispered to Billy, "I reckon he's getting a
hard- on!"

Billy glanced over at McNeil who had turned back to the galley sink and
pressed his front against it.

"Don't know, can't see anything," muttered Billy and then "What's up
then McNeil? You getting the hots for the skipper or am I turning you on
sitting here in just my knickers?"

"Away and get fucked Benson. Ah'm no interested in yer scrawny chicken
body."

Meanwhile I'd gone into the fo'c'sle to stow away the spare dressings
and had to step over McNeil's dirty combat gear. It smelt. It smelt of
sweaty soldier. I kicked the pile and his dirty skivvies caught my eye,
I picked up his boxers and looked at them. They showed strong evidence
of having been worn during some pretty strenuous activity but the thing
that caught my eye was the fact that the front of the young soldier's
underwear was starched! Stiff. I looked more closely. He'd creamed those
boxers not just once but, on close examination, he must have shot about
four separate loads of soldier- spunk into them. Why? What had given him
four orgasms? He'd been with his group for at least five days. He
couldn't have seen any girls since their exercise had started? Was our
avowed queer-baiter bent? I reckoned so.

"Billy, come in here a minute," I said.

Billy came into the small cabin and I held up the spunk-stained boxers.

"Looks like our tough gay-basher may turn out to be a frustrated homo.
What do you think? 'Cos I think in the interests of military security we
ought to find out! Let's jump him!!"

Billy grinned and together we slowly approached the galley.

"What's this then?" I demanded, holding up the semen-starched underwear.

McNeil reddened.

"Wit y'a doin' wi ma cacks?" he mumbled. "Give 'em here. That's ma stuff
'n its private."

"Look at the state of these! They stink. And, tell me, what got you so
excited then? There's been no girls in your life for five days yet
they're covered in dried spunk. Fancy the guys do you? Got the hots for
a soldier-boy? Maybe you fancy 'Bum-boy Benson' Sniffing after a bit of
fluffy ginger-haired arse are we?"

McNeil lunged forward to grab his stained boxers but skidded on the
slippery deck. It was then that I realised that he must've got into the
booze locker while he'd been working in the galley. The lad was quite
pissed. Now we could have some fun. In a flash I snatched up some short
rope ties that we used to secure the sails when they were dropped down
to the deck. I whipped five turns around his ankles while Billy, who'd
realised in a second what I was doing grabbed another length and got a
lashing around his wrists.

"Where did you learn to do that," I asked.

"In the Sea Scouts," Billy replied with an evil grin.

McNeil writhed and struggled on the deck but with arms and legs
restrained he was helpless.

"Ah'm sick," he bellowed, "get af've me. Let me go. Wit are'ye tryin'
tae dae fer fuck's sake."

I bent down and whispered into his ear, "I reckon you're queer, McNeil.
A bum-bandit. A shirt-lifter. A brown-noser, Huh?"

"Away tae fuck!" he shouted rolling onto his back.

"Billy, he's kicking too much. Get his trousers down, that'll hobble
him."

Billy was now well into the battle. He grabbed the writhing soldier's
belt, slipped the buckle, unzipped his fly and dragged down his cammo
trousers.

"And his underwear. Get him bare arsed and roll him over," I said

Billy complied so that the trussed soldier was lying on his stomach,
trousers and underwear stripped down to his ankles and his bare bum
mooning up at us.

"Watch this Billy," I said with a chuckle.

>From under one of the bunks I'd dragged out a spare sail baton, a thin
strip of flexible plastic about three inches wide which we used to
stiffen the trailing edge of the sails. With a sound like a pistol shot
I smote the delectable round buttocks of the pinioned soldier.

"Fuck you. That fuckin' hurt. What the fuck do ya think yu'r at?" he
bellowed.

Thwack.

Another goodly shot and a second crimson stripe spread across the
vulnerable mounds.

Thwack. Thwack.

"That'll teach you to call your mates nasty, queer names. Roll him over
Billy, I'm guessing that . . . ."

Billy grabbed the lad's shoulders in a flash and spun him over onto his
back. . . . . Just as I'd thought, a stiff flag-staff curved upwards
from his pubic bush and protruded throught the fly of his boxers. The
lad had grown a stiff erection.

"Ah. So that turned you on did it?" I crowed.

McNeil blushed and struggled unsuccessfully to roll over and hide the
evidence of his arousal.

"Not very impressive eh Billy," I said peering at the five inch prick,
"Nice plump balls though, ready with another packet of splurge maybe.
Cop a feel, maybe you can coax a bit more length there."

Billy grinned and slid his fingers up and down the solid length of our
prisoner's stiffy. McNeil groaned and his cock twitched mightily.

"On his belly again, Billy." I ordered.

Billy rolled our victim over onto his belly and again I wacked the taut
young buttocks with my batten.

"Who do you fancy then gay-boy?"

"Ouch. Fuck you!!" roared McNeil.

Wack. Wack. The sound echoed round the boat.

"Benson. Billy Benson. It's him I fancy. Fuckin' bum-boy. I fancy him
rotten and I bet he shags like a rabbit."

"Oh so you are a gay young soldier. And all those names you've been
calling him. And all the time you've fancied him, fancied him enough to
fill your knickers with spunk. Dirty little soldier."

Thwack. I smote the now reddened buttocks. then I ran my hand over the
hot muscled mounds.

"Pretty little bottom, Billy, wouldn't you say?"

As I probed McNeil's privacy Billy looked on and licked his lips, his
horniness well in evidence.

Suddenly I ceased my intimate searching. I signaled Billy to roll him
over onto his back again and then I abandoned the young fraud and turned
all my attention to my ginger lover. I snogged young Billy, kissing his
mouth, licking his face, nibbling the lobes of his ears, smelling,
licking, kissing deep into his neck. McNeil's eyes were locked onto the
two of us as we started to make out big time. His cock was still
rampant, his eyes pleaded to be allowed in on our intimacies.

"What do you reckon Billy?" I whispered into his ear, "reckon he's a
fucker or a fuckee?"

"That dirty bastard, I bet he's lusting to get that pathetic cock up a
tight, gripping arsehole. Sure he's longing to fuck his spunk into one
of us. He's a mean bastard, remember what he called me?"

"Sure I do," I replied, "in that case I reckon he should get well and
truly shagged. Get that cute round, muscley bum of his shagged like
there's no tomorrow."

McNeil could hear our plans but he had the sense to keep quiet.

Billy grinned and nodded enthusiastically. I continued to fondle the
lad's bum, running the palm of my hand oh so lightly over the inflamed
flesh. Then I ran my fingers up and down the crack between the bared
buttocks. Very lightly I teased that crack and McNeil involuntarily
clenched his bum-cheeks together, emphasizing the dimples at the side of
his round rump. I continued my gentle massage with fluttering fingers
and to my delight the young soldier started to hump his arse upwards to
meet my ministrations. For several minutes I continued to tease his
bottom until in his excitement he slowly eased his legs apart, opening
up his hot young crack. Instantly my fingers teased their way into the
hairy, sweaty cleft. Teased up and down, furtively fingering this
private valley, surreptitiously seeking the tight pucker, the private
place that few others would ever get to feel. I tapped at his back door
and the ring of muscle spasmed. I rubbed my finger around the core of
him and then withdrew it from his intimacy.

"I hope you really cleaned yourself well - like mummy taught you" I said
to him and so saying I held my finger close up under McNeil's nose.

"Smell sexy?", I whispered, "I bet you'd like to get a sniff of Bum-boy
Benson's arse. He just loves me to play with his hole. It smells
awesome, I can tell you." Then I worked my hand round to his front,
feeling for his prick; it was steel hard and when I rubbed my palm over
his knob I felt the moisture, the stickiness of his pre-cum. This
fag-hater was right into the scene, of that there was no doubt.

"I bet you'd like to thrust this weapon deep into Billy's bum, eh?"

"That little thing? You're joking," said Billy, "after the shags you've
given me all that thing would do is just tickle! Mind you his knob-end
is quite impressive. Thick - like its owner."

"Let's see what you've got then," grunted McNeal and in a flash Billy
whipped his prick out of the fly of his boxers and thrust it into the
young soldier's startled face.

"Go on then cock-sucker. Slurp on that bit of meat," said Billy. And his
tormenter sucked. He wrapped his lips around the solid soldier-shaft and
vacuumed his way up and down like a veteran. Billy moaned at the
exquisite and expert attention his manhood was receiving.

"Hmm, as I thought," I said, "you're no novice. For once I have to say
that you're doing a good job - wouldn't you say young Billy?"

Billy groaned his agreement. McNeal replied by deep-throating his
colleagues cock giving rise to louder and more vehement grunts from
young Billy.

By now McNeil was completely into the scene. He was sucking Billy like a
new-born calf at its mother's tits, his eyes gleamed with lust. I
reckoned it was safe to release the sail tiers that bound his hands and
feet. As he continued to pleasure his colleague I moved round behind his
unguarded bottom and resumed my digital exploration, fingering his
arsehole and feeling the ring ease open in welcome. I slipped one finger
slowly into the hot, gripping hole. McNeal gasped and clamped his
arse-lips around the invader. I screwed my finger around and he relaxed
his grip enabling me probe deeper until I heard him gasp and my other
hand felt his cock jolt. I continued to work away at my target and then
I mounted the young soldier and replaced my probing finger with
something much more substantial. Billy watched and grinned as I lined
myself up for the gross indignity which I was about to inflict on our
now willing captive.

Suddenly, without warning I plunged my cock deep into his tender
orifice. I drove the plump head of my penetrater deep into his arse.
McNeal spat out Billy's cock in a gasp of pain and violation. I gripped
my arms around the young soldier and plunged, drew my penis out and then
plunged again. Now I set up the primeval rhythm and proceeded to fuck my
young victim without mercy. I loved it. I rode that young man viciously.
I drove in with all my strength, slapping the side of his arse as I did
so. I eased out and shoved in - time and time again - and he loved it.
McNeil responded and reared back into me, picking up the rhythm of the
fuck like a homosexual pro. Much as I longed to continue to dominate the
cute young man, my release was building up and, with a paroxysm of power
I finally plunged in deeper than ever and with a primitive groan I
released jet after jet of steaming semen deep into McNeal's arsehole. I
had this huge prolonged orgasm with the dirty soldier's ring clamping my
invading cock in a muscular grip brought on by his own spurting
emmisions.

We both gasped at the majesty of the fuck and the stupendous release,
hormones raging round our bodies and, to my astonishment, I realised
that Billy who'd been wanking his cock furiously in time with my
fuck-strokes gave his jolting cock a final gripping clench and his spunk
spurted forth in sympathy.

"Fuckin' 'ell, that wis the greatest," gasped McNeil, "that wis the
first time ah've ever bin shagged. Oh fuck but it wis guid."

I went into the head and grabbed a damp coth and the three of us used it
to wipe off the sweat and semen that had splashed onto our bodies. We
all pulled up our slacks and sat down on the saloon seats. Still flushed
but feeling great and grinning at each other. I go out three glasses and
poured each of us good stiff dram.

We clinked our glasses together in a toast, downed the fiery liquid -
and I poured us another. This was going to be one hell of a night.

We polished off the remains of that first bottle and set about its
replacement and, not surprisingly, before long we were three very happy
yachtsmen.

"Hey guys, ah'm knackered," said McNeil in a slurred voice, "it's OK fer
ye bat ah'be bin up on the hill 'n ah wis sick, ken?"

"Yea, you're right," I answered, "best we get turned in. The others'll
be back tomorrow."

Billy looked at me, his face flushed, "I've got this throbbing,
Skipper," he said, "I think I need some help."

"Your ankle?" I enquired.

"No, not my ankle . . . ." and he groped his groin and leered at my
lasciviously. McNeil caught the look and grinned too. This time it was
me that got jumped. The two young soldiers launched themselves at me and
I was pinioned on the seat by two sets of strong young arms. I
struggled, not too much, but they managed to overpower me and dragged my
shirt over my head. Then they attacked my belt, managed to get it undone
and dragged my slacks down and off my legs. Then they both stripped off
in record time and we lay in a tangled, writhing snake of arms and legs.

I could sense that the booze and the excitment had made Billy totally
sex-crazed. He leant over and started to tongue my right nipple while he
ran his hand up my thigh and played teasingly with the tip of my now
rock hard cock. I responded by reaching round and running my hand down
his sweat lubricated back and into his muscular arse crack. In a second
my finger had found his puckered fuck hole and was gently probing itand
without the slightest resistance it entered him. Not even pausing in his
attention to my tit, he got to his feet, leaned over the seat and
groaned, "OK, Skip, do it. DO IT NOW!"

I stood up and got behind him and, taking my cock in hand, started
rubbing the tip up and down his arsw crack and under his balls. Every
time the tip passed his fuck hole I felt it relaxing, waiting for me to
plunge in. Finally, after four or five teasing swipes past his hole, I
stopped and rested the tip of my cock at the rim of his arse and waited.
I pressed it gently against his puckered bum-hole. His arse muscles
relaxed, admitting an inch or so, and then tightened again. It was again
clear to me that Billy could use his arse like an expert. In no more
than two seconds I was all the way in, with my balls resting against his
muscular cheeks, and feeling great. I started to ride in and out, slowly
at first. Each time I would ease slowly out I could feel his arse
tighten, as if he couldn't bear to let go of my cock. When I started to
push it in again, he would rapidly tighten and relax his ass, sending
shivers of passion through me. I reached around to play with his cock
while I fucked, only to find that McNeil had slithered up the seat and
had it in his mouth. I settled for massaging Billy's tits instead while
I shagged him slowly and firmly.

Billy started to rotate his hips with each slow thrust of my cock, at
the same time driving his own cock deeper into McNeil's mouth. I plowed
a little faster and harder, trying to hold back and make it last as long
as I could. Within a few minutes, like it or not, I was out of control.
Releasing his tits, I grabbed his hips and started to drive my throbbing
cock into him as hard and deep as I could. My balls bounced against his
with each thrust. Both of our nut-sacks had stiffened, both sets of
balls had ridden up, close to releasing their frantic juices. The harder
and faster I plunged into his hot bum the tighter he clenched his arse
ring and the more awesome it felt. A couple of times I drove into him so
hard his cock was shoved involuntarily deep into McNeil's throat,
gagging him. I began to sweat like a pig by this time, and was driving
my cock into Billy and making a rhythmic sound from the slapping of
flesh against flesh. I could really feel the pressure building up and my
balls tightening as they got ready to release their load. Grabbing Billy
around the waist I drove my cock deep into his arse and started to shoot
load after load of my hot cum into him. As I delivered my load I could
feel Billy's arse spasming around my cock as he shot his own sticky
splurge into McNeil's throat. We were perfectly synchronized! After I
had finally jetted my full load of cum into Billy's arse and was about
to pull out he reached around, grabbed my arse and pulled me closer into
him, still gripping his ass muscle around my cock, and milking every
last drop of cum out of it. Finally my cock softened and slipped out
with a wet plop.

Billy and I had achieved yet another mammoth orgasm. We lay back,
sweating and spent and both pairs of eyes were rivetted to McNeil. He
was lying on his back with one hand caressing the inside of his thigh
and stroking up against his balls. His forefinger began stroking one of
his balls while his other hand lay flat on his stomach. For the moment
his penis had gone flaccid its head drooping between the other ball and
his thigh but it was clearly stirring into life again.

He slipped the other hand downwards, stroking the smooth area between
his navel and his pubes, a thick forest of hair sited low down and with
a sharp upper line. When they reached the root of his prick, he parted
his fore and second finger and ran them as a vee down to slide along his
rapidly thickening shaft. A few strokes with his fingers along the upper
half of his short shaft and the glans began to look distinctly angry and
swollen.

Now he slid a finger to the other side of the shaft and hooked it below,
supporting it so that the glans, by now doubled in size, was raised up.
His thumb rubbed the upper surface of the shaft and he moved the rest of
his fingers in support. By now his weapon supported itself.

For a moment he lay admiring his manhood and he watched as the taut skin
pulled slowly back across the glistening plum-coloured skin of his
helmet. Slowly he stroked, he was taking his time. The tight foreskin
retracted from his flaring corona, the upturned rim of his glorious
helmet and he pressed down with his gliding fingers, stretching the skin
on the shaft enough to clear the rim.

Now he grasped his shaft and began to work in earnest. His beautiful
body began to writhe. Glancing at his feeat I saw his toes wiggle. His
small, hard buttocks clenched - full bum cheeks with deep side hollows.
Now he slipped his hand up higher, and began to caress the point below
the glans with the side of his finger. By now a thin fluid was oozing
from his piss-slit and between his muscular thighs his ballshad pulled
high and close as his orgasm neared. He commenced a rhythmic pumping
action, his right hand sliding all the way up and down his rod. His
other hand cupped his bollocks with his forefinger digging into the root
of the shaft beneath the taut skin.

His hips and thighs reared up once more, his toes and feet twisting, his
head thrashing from side to sie with a look of exquisite agony on his
face.

Billy and I looked on, agog to see such a private, personal display
taking place inches from our fascinated gaze. Any second now he had to
cum! McNeil gave a heart-wrenching moan, he gasped and the first wad was
launched, jetting out and splatting onto his belly. He writhed and sent
the second spurt splattered onto the deck. A great round glob of pearly
white jism. Despite our earlier session and presumably because of his
young age, his third spasm also managed to sent a glob into the air,
this time landing on his still pumping wrist. He spasmed again and
again, but now producing jets of more liquid semen which flowed warmly
down onto the top of his hand.

"Fuuuuuk!" he groaned, "Fuck me, that wis sae guid." And without
another word he crawled off to the fo'c'sle and clambered into his bunk.
Spent. Exhausted.

I winked at Billy and we slid off together to my bunk at the aft end
of the boat.