Shores of Tripoli

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This is a completed ten-chapter GM novel, which will complete posting by early October 2019.

]

Billy Evans stood at the window overlooking Foster Lane when Henry Gawn called out to him from the bed.

"Come back to me, boy. Standing in the window in that state will draw unwanted attention."

"I think there is not time for more, Mr. Gawn. The dawn is upon us and Mistress Marianne said she would be home from her sister's early today."

It was not that the young apprentice would not willingly return to his master's arms. Henry, the printer of the

Boston Sentinel

broadsheet, who Billy's father, William senior, a textile manufacturer, had indentured him to in the failed hope to reign in his proclivities, cocked quite well. In his endeavor to "save" his son, William senior had tragically erred, although he did not realize it—nor would it be the last time he did so. Rather than the young men of Billy's age who he had been observed cavorting with, his father had unwittingly turned him over to a more seasoned and experienced man of the same nature, which was more to Billy's taste.

Resisting the call of the cock was more a matter of lack of time because of the chores Billy had to accomplish this day before he was free for the next two. His eyes were cast beyond the end of Foster Lane, where it spilled into Ship Street and, beyond that, the ships' masts at Clarke's Shipyard and Hutchinson's wharf. The first golden rays of Friday were glinting through the ship's masts there, making Billy pine for the sea and for the danger the one he marked as his true lover represented.

He heard the whistle and looked down into the street, where his sometimes friend, Ned, the solitary figure out and about at this time, was standing on the cobblestones and looking up at Billy's naked body leaning on the frame of Henry Gawn's bedroom window. Ned was grinning. He thrust his pelvis forward and made a rude gesture of masturbating with one hand, while giving a fingers'-circle signal with the other that the plans were in place. In exchange for a fuck, Ned, who had brought produce to market from his family's farm south of the city, had agreed to drop Billy off in the small harbor village of Shernhaven as he was returning home.

Billy gave a small wave and turned away from the window. It had been in search of this assurance that had drawn him from Henry's bed to the vantage point. The mere thought of the assignation in Shernhaven and the two days of relief from the demanding work of printer's apprentice because of the coming high holiday made him harden, a response that did not go unnoticed by Henry.

"Ah to be so young and to rise so quickly," Henry murmured. "Marianne will dawdle. I know she will. There is plenty of time for another fucking. It will be days before I can have you again. Come to me."

Laughing, quietly, Billy moved to the bed. "You are not so old that you cannot harden thrice in a night."

"Aye, and twice in a morning when I have as nice a piece as you. I wish that I can keep the image of you naked in the sunlight at the window until I can be inside you again. You are so young and perfectly formed. I want to imprison you to my will, nail you to the wall with my cock. Here, do not make me wait. I ache for you."

Billy shivered at the image of being dominated so. When he reached the side of the bed, the older man—yet barely thirty to Billy's eighteen—grabbed Billy's trim waist in his beefy hands and easily lifted the smaller, curly headed, raven-haired, handsome youth and settled Billy's knees on either side of his gray-laced strawberry-blond hairy and burly chest. Billy leaned forward, gripping the top of the headboard in his fists and laying his cheek against the flower-wallpapered wall. Henry opened his mouth over Billy's cock and both sighed as Billy started to slowly move his hips. After several minutes, Billy came upright, moved his hands behind him to find Henry's plump, hard cock, and positioned its bulb inside his channel opening. Then, as he sank down on Henry's cock with a groan and a moan, he leaned back to lay his torso flat on the surface of the bed and let his arms go slack at his sides, after which the older man pulled leather straps tight around Billy's thighs and calves to tighten the younger man's channel on his buried cock. Then, supporting Billy's bound legs against his chest, a grunting Henry used the strength of his hand holds on the young man's waist to pull and push the belabored channel on the cock.

Billy groaned at the tightness of the fuck in a channel collapsed by the binding of his legs. "Yes, yes, punish me."

Later, with Billy cupped into Henry's belly, it was evident that the printer wanted his apprentice again.

"It's late, and I have so much to do today before I can leave. You promised me . . . oh, no! Oh, god!"

It was too late. Henry had already entered him in a sidesplit and was pinching Billy's nipples hard between thumbs and forefingers, giving Billy the roughness that aroused him the most.

"Just this once more. You may trim your work to meet your time needs. I cannot resist. We shall see what work I want you to be doing, little one. Remember that it is you who are indentured to me. Whenever I want to take you, I will. If I want your work for the day to be in my bed, under me, then so be it."

Billy sighed at the forcefulness of the statement, which matched the strong thrusts of the man's cock.

They both heard the electrifying click of the street door two stories down at the same moment. Someone—doubtless Mistress Marianne—was in the shop and would be mounting the stairs to the upper floors, where the printer and his apprentice lived, at any moment.

Four bare feet hit the floor as quickly and silently as possible, and Billy gathered his clothes and headed for his space in the attic while Henry pulled his own clothing on and stuffed the leather strappings he had been using with Billy in the bottom drawer of a bureau. Henry would detain his wife on some excuse of why he was not yet in his shop while Billy stole by them and went into the rear yard and began chores that would fool Mistress Marianne that he was already up and about.

The two had this down to a routine. They had lingered before and, if Henry had any power over the matter, they would linger again and again for the two years remaining on Billy's indenture. Never had Henry had such a sweet ass and beautiful young man under his control. A lad who sought out the punishment that aroused the printer in the giving. And not the least amusement was that Billy's pompous ass of a father had sent the young man to him for protection, begging him not to tell the reason why he was indenturing him rather than sending him to college, where he would be only loosely supervised and other attractive young men would be present in abundance. The father thought the threat was from other young men. Henry had every reason to know, however, that young Billy preferred the experience of older men—men of power and danger and who would punish Billy a bit, as pleased him. The printer knew that Billy actually welcomed the danger of being discovered by Mistress Marianne.

And, another amusement, Henry thus would not tell Billy that Marianne knew of Henry's proclivities and did not care in the least as long as Henry kept a roof over her head and fine food on the table—and did not trouble her with conjugal demands. The only real danger was that the buxom Marianne fancied the young man herself.

* * * *

"I think this would be a good place to pull off."

"Aye, I agree it would," Billy answered Ned. It was on the wrong side of Shernhaven—on the headland overlooking the town from the north and the sea. Billy's assignation was in a cove below the cliffs to the south of the town. But Billy didn't want Ned to know where or who he was meeting. The twilight of the Friday Billy last lay with the printer was lingering, and it soon would be dark. But there was plenty of time.

Ned pulled the wagon off the track and through a copse of trees and almost to the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea to the east. They could see down into the bowl at the harbor's edge where Shernhaven was located, but there were a few large houses of the town's wealthy on the headlands between where the wagon was brought to a halt and the town. Flickering lamplight was beginning to illuminate the windows of two of these houses. But the young men were quite sure they couldn't be seen from there, because they were clothed in greater darkness and curtained off by the thin, wavering trunks of birch trees whispering in the breeze coming off the water.

Ned set the brake of the wagon with one hand while he was moving the other arm around Billy's shoulders. Billy leaned in toward him, knowing this was the time for payment for the wagon ride and Ned's silence and goodwill. They kissed.

Billy was glad of the darkness as Ned was ugly—tall and gangly—and although he talked a ruffian's talk, he had proven to be awkward and unimaginative in the fuck. He was two years older than Billy. He had been respected among some at school, however, because he possessed a long cock and used it liberally. Just a few months earlier, as the end of the last school term had passed, Billy, having decided he wanted to go with men, had gritted his teeth and lain under Ned. But when he had, Billy had been thinking of the schoolmaster; he wanted to be covered by the schoolmaster. There was a spark with Ned that wasn't with the schoolmaster, although Billy really wanted to be with the schoolmaster. Ned had been rough with Billy. He was ugly and a bully, and Billy didn't know until he was being fucked how deep Ned could cock. Once the cock was inside him and Ned had punched him in the mouth to subdue him, Billy didn't care how ugly or bullying Ned was. Ned had thought that he had charmed Billy with his cock when Billy cried out for more of it half way through the fuck and gave Ned a ride he'd never forget. He didn't know that it was the very forced nature of the act—the closed fist to the cheek—that had turned Billy on.

Billy didn't realize that he wanted to feel like he had been forced and physically subdued, though, until he'd subsequently had and an encounter with a rough man on the road once. After that Billy knew—and knowing that it was too dark to have any concern for Ned's ugliness, Billy didn't mind the fare he had to pay. It would be a straightforward poke this time, but the scene in which it was set was a sign that Ned had control over him. That was what Billy needed.

* * * *

The schoolmaster, Samuel Hale, was barely five years older than Billy. He was handsome, with red hair and a broad chest and arm muscles that belied his profession as a teacher. He lived in a small cottage beside the schoolhouse, and Billy found himself gravitating to the man. Coming to the schoolhouse even when school was not in session. Asking for extra instruction. Sometimes he'd come when Sam was doing his chores. One afternoon Billy arrived when Sam was chopping wood, stripped to the waist. His torso was magnificent, but Billy saw marks of the whip on him. Asking, Sam merely said that he'd had a rough childhood. Billy had recently become familiar with rough, and the mere mention of the word aroused him, although he didn't understand why. Maybe this man gave it as rough as he'd received it, Billy thought.

Billy had had a rough initiation too—not to anal sex, He had drifted into that naturally, but it was a shock to him to learn that he liked it rough.

He had skipped school one fine afternoon a few weeks previous to his encounter with the schoolmaster but some time after he'd lain under Ned and let Ned take his virginity to man love. He had been walking aimlessly along the road south toward Shernhaven, not having any goal or plan, but knowing only that it was too nice of a day to be in school. As he walked, a wagon pulled up beside him. A burley Irishman with flaming red hair hailed him.

"Would this be the road to Boston?"

"Yes, you're on the right road, mister."

"And I guess you would be knowing why young men like yourself dally around on this section to the track, would you not?"

No Billy didn't know. But he found the question so strange that he passed over it and didn't answer.

"You're a right handsome young man. Not too old for schooling, though, I don't imagine. You look more than a bit too young to be standing in this stretch. Maybe it's the smallness."

"Old enough," Billy responded indignantly, pulling himself up to stand straighter. His lack of height was one of the biggest of life's irritations for him. He was always being taken for a few years younger than his near nineteen years.

"So, where you off to?" the man asked.

"Nowhere in particular."

"No one down the road expecting you or anything?"

"No, just out for the exercise."

The man gave a guttural laugh at that response, which he took for saucy teasing. "I could give a strapping young man like you all the exercise he could want. I got to admit I'm really right randy now, and you have that look about you that makes a man go hard and that wants to be poking a lad. Fancy a fuck? I've got chickens in the back. Fair exchange it would be."

"What?" Billy managed in a strangled voice, confused and scared but also inexplicably aroused. The man had set the brake on the wagon and was coming down off it. He was huge, maybe twice Billy's weight. Billy felt frightened, but all a tingle at the same time. He turned and ran into the woods at the side of the road.

That was a mistake. "Ah, a playful one we have here. You best not make me work too hard for it," the man called out at Billy's retreating back. "You would regret that soundly, I can tell you."

The man caught Billy easily and dragged him farther into the trees to a small glade where a few large trees had been chopped down, leaving stumps at near chair height.

The man grabbed Billy's arm and spun him around. "No!" Billy cried out. But then all of the air was knocked out of him as the man punched him in the stomach with a doubled-up fist and, as Billy bent over from that blow, gave him an upper cut to the jaw for good measure.

The ruffian was already fumbling at Billy's clothes as Billy was sinking to the ground. He had Billy's shirt opened down the front and the front of his trousers opened and hanging low on his hips.

"Please, don't tear my clothes," Billy managed to stumble out in slurred words, but the man pulled him up by his shirt collar and backhanded his face twice. Billy hit the ground hard, and the man stooped down, grabbed the waistband of Billy's trousers, and pulled them and his underdrawers off his legs. His hands then immediately went to unbuttoning his own fly.

The man laughed, looking down at Billy. "Well, look there. You already want me. It's your clothes you don't want mussed up, not you. You want it."

Billy was embarrassed as well as dazed. He indeed felt that he'd gone half hard. He looked up at the man's crotch, at the already erect cock the man was holding in his hand. More mesmerizing to Billy was the bush of red, kinky hair that surrounded the root of it. Billy moaned and tried to move away. A heavy boot plopped down in the center of his chest.

"You ain't gonna give me trouble now, are you? You want the fuck. We both know that."

Pinned to the ground, Billy just whimpered incoherently. He couldn't hide that he was going hard, though. Being assaulted and controlled like this—not being able to do anything about it—had aroused him in ways he'd never achieved by himself in bed at night. The danger of it. It was exhilarating. Yes, he wanted it. He'd been thinking of wanting it as soon as he started getting the idea of what the man was talking about while he still was sitting on his wagon. "Yes," he whimpered.

"Yes, you want it?" the man growled.

"Yes, I want it," Billy admitted.

"And you done it before, ain't you?"

"Yes," Billy admitted.

The ruffian hauled Billy up and sat him down on a tree stump. He picked up Billy's trousers and pulled the thin leather strip out of the belt loops that Billy had been using to hold his trousers up. As Billy whimpered, the man pulled his wrists together and bound them with the leather strap. Then the man stood up straight and fisted his cock again.

"Open up, and you'd better suck it good, if you know what's good for you. No, just open wide, get your teeth and tongue out of the way, and I'll do the rest."

Billy gagged and his eyes were watering again, as, holding the sides of his head firmly in his hands, the red-headed assailant face-fucked Billy's mouth. He was enjoying it, throwing his head back and howling to the tops of the trees. Billy wasn't enjoying it very much. He had had it in his bung hole and learned to want this, but the mouth part he didn't much like anymore. But he did it when he had to. He had a hard time keeping his mouth passage open and breathing at the same time. But still, the danger of it, the wildness of not having control, had him aroused.

Billy made a half-hearted attempt to escape again when the ruffian felt he was aroused enough to get on with it and pulled his dick out of Billy's mouth. Billy had gone soft again and wasn't liking what was happening right now much. If the man would just get on with it—cover him and do it—Billy could go with that. The man towered over Billy and was nimble. He got his hands on Billy's throat and Billy slowly went slack for him.

Thoroughly cowed and having reached the point of wanting the man to get to the main event, Billy was on the small of his back on the tree stump, his bound arms over his head, the man holding his legs open and splayed out. Only a few inches of the cock were inside Billy. The young man wasn't a virgin, but he hadn't been worked all that much before, and the man, thicker than Ned was, was huffing and puffing, finding it hard, but arousing progress. Billy was whimpering, beaten and subdued. The pain was washing over him in waves. But underneath that was his own arousal. He was going hard again.

The man pushed in deeper and Billy flinched and his pelvis jerked up, pulling the man in even farther. The ruffian laughed as Billy reached for his own cock, fully erect now, managing to fist it with both of his bound hands, and shot off up the man's heaving belly almost immediately.

"There, I told you you wanted it," the man said with a smile. He untied Billy's wrists, convinced that the young man was fully his now. "Now settle down and work with me."

Billy didn't want to "work with" this man. He wanted the man to do it and get Billy off and then leave, but his body had a mind of its own. As the man bottomed and he started pumping Billy, Billy raised his pelvis to him and started an answering rhythm of his hips. There was little pain now. This was it, the part that Billy wanted. Just the pleasure of a man inside him, controlling him, wanting him, not giving him any choice in the matter. Billy reached under the man's shirt and moved his hands up to cover the man's muscular pecs. The man pulled Billy's legs in and, of his own accord Billy wrapped them around the small of the man's back and hooked his ankles together. The man laughed again and began pistoning harder.

"Oh, yes, you want it, you do. I read you right. A real prime little piece you are."

The man's hands freed, now, one went to one of Billy's nipples and the other to Billy's cock, pumping Billy hard again. The man pinched Billy's nipple, and the young man arched his back and moaned and licked his lips.

"Like it like that, do you?"

Seeing the effect it was having on Billy, the man moved both hands to Billy's nipples and started to cruelly pull and twist them. Billy writhed under him with pain-pleasure and began humping back at him hard. The ruffian stopped his fuck, letting Billy take over the pumping.