Chapter 6
Bob Haas was waiting for her when she returned from her late breakfast. To Eva he looked like the cat who just swallowed the canary. She was irritated at once when she entered her hut and saw him sitting there, waiting and eager to tell her something.
She had hardly gotten through the door when the boy began explaining that he had something to say. Gossip, very personal gossip it turned out.
It seems that he had gone out late last night to take a dip because he couldn't sleep and when he arrived at the beach, he saw Phillip Tyson and Alex Pierce on the grass nearby. Bob said that he was about to hail them when he noticed in the bright moon that Alex was grunting. Curious, Bob said, he went in and around the boys and discovered Phillip sucking Alex and then heard them argue. Alex refused to suck Phillip, Bob said, and when he had finished he said, "Damn faggot. But I knew you'd want to know about it, Miss Gorst. I haven't forgotten yesterday."
"Nor have I," Eva said coolly. "But I appreciate your telling me. Don't worry," she said when she noticed that he seemed ready for another 'treatment,' "I'll take care of you later. Run along now."
The news was not exactly a big surprise to Eva. She had observed the Tyson boy on several occasions and surmised that he was just a bit underdeveloped for his age, very quiet and slightly effeminate. Despite her own sexual predilections she was still a little shocked by the news. Somehow her own sexual ventures with girls didn't seem as repulsive as it did when men did the same things. She could understand it to a degree, but while she smiled about it she also remembered that she had a duty to perform. She could not allow homosexuality to take her own place. Funny, she thought, I didn't mean to say take my place, but that's the way it came out.
There was a way to cure it while he was still impressionable, she thought. She would take him through the wonderland of heterosexuality and show him, teach him how much more wonderful it was than the other way. She would be gentle and understanding, ease through the preliminaries and show the boy how to take the aggressive, a woman desired.
As she worked around the hut, picking up clothing and cups, she became more intrigued idea of making the youngster really informed about sex. She would be his teacher, his first woman, his motherly, passionate guide out of the limbo of homos. By the time she had finished working, she was singing in expectation of the evening. It would become one of her more satisfying triumphs, she thought.
The afternoon seemed to drag and while she didn't object too much, busying herself with a long stroll down the beach and a swim in the fresh water pool, she was impatient for the night, impatient to get her hands on the boy with queer tendencies. Several times that day she ran into Bob, each time looking more and more like he wanted to rape her on the spot. She spoke to him and explained that he would have to wait until tomorrow, and each time she told him she felt a superior thrill in being able to put him off. But the day dragged.
Eva was careful not to tire herself and when she had finished supper she felt active for the first time in many days. Not even the warmth of the evening calmed her down very much.
She found Alex off by himself, finishing his dinner. He looked just the way she had always pictured him, a kind of esthetic boy, but not really as effeminate as she thought earlier. He seemed surprised when she came up to him and told him to meet her in her hut after he had finished eating. For a flashing moment, Eva saw a look of panic cross his face, but he smiled up at her and nodded his head.
"So that's why you can't see me," Bob said quietly to her as she neared her hut. She hadn't heard him and she almost jumped in fright. "You're going to fuck that little faggot, aren't you? Why? Why? You knew I was waiting for you all day. You know how much I need it."
Recovering her composure, Eva turned her icy look at the big, blond boy. "Don't come up behind people like that. You scared me half to death." Then she turned and walked into her room. Bob followed.
"But how could you, knowing what he is?"
"That's my business," she said. "Now just run along like a good boy or you won't be getting anything ever."
"No. Dammit no," he shouted. "I won't go unless I get something and right now."
Eva looked at him as he leaned against the door, the desperation written all over his face, but she only found contempt for him. "Get out, Bob. Get out now or I'll see to it that Pedro beats the hell out of you."
He moved towards her and tried to grab her arms, but she stepped back and slammed her fist into his unsuspecting belly. He doubled over in pain, the shock of the blow taking all his passion for the moment.
"You'll live, Bob, but get out now. I mean what I say. If you ever want sex from me, you'll get out now and make damned sure you don't return until I ask you to."
Bob groaned and stood upright again, turning away from Eva and leaving her alone in the hut. But he was seething inside, from the blow in the gut and from the blow to his ego thinking that she was going to fuck that little queer. Well, he smiled once more as the thought worked its way into his mind, I'll fix that son-of-a-bitch good.
Eva watched him walk off into the jungle and thought that she probably had made an enemy of him, but only a temporary one, she added. There were ways, all sexual ones, of getting him back. She sat down at the table and filled a glass with brandy and waited for Phillip.
The boy was not long in coming. He knocked timidly at her door and came in quietly when she told him and sat down. She offered him a drink, but he refused. Then Eva came right out with a talk about the difficulties of having grown up in an all-boys' school, about the troubling sexual problems that might lead a boy to think of sex in different ways and about the dangers of homosexuality in later life.
"I've heard about you and Alex," she said, watching as the boy turned scarlet with shame. He started to get up, but Eva put her hand over his and held him. "Don't let it bother you, Phillip. I know you know that what you did was wrong, but there was a reason for your actions. But it can all be changed, Phillip. I can help you if you'll let me."
Her words offered little assurance to the boy. He remained scarlet with the shame of knowing that she knew what he had done to Alex and all he wanted to do was run from her, run so fast that he would die and the terrible desires would never haunt him again. Dead, he dreamed, he would no longer be the pariah to his father. He would do it swimming and in his fantasy he imagined that he would die in the water in the attempt at saving someone else, a heroic gesture that would, for the first time, make his father proud of him, proud of his memory.
The blood boiled through his head and he was hardly aware of what Miss Gorst was saying. She was offering to help. Ridiculous. What could she do? She was a woman and just like his mother, weak and simpering and she was even drinking. What could she do? His head buzzed and he tried to look at the woman; his mother? He got up from the chair, but her hand was heavy on his and he wanted to run, but his hand was anchored beneath hers, held fast to something that he couldn't understand.
"I'll help you," Eva said.
Phillip's expression turned to panic, but he couldn't move himself from her. He didn't want to. And through the pounding of his heart and the lightness of his head, he felt the surge of hope that perhaps this woman could lift him from the desires he had. He relaxed for an instant and sat down, finally taking the small glass of brandy that Eva offered.
Something in her heart went out to the boy, a feeling of wanting to protect him from the realities and yet she still wanted to make him a man, make him a man in her own image. She tried to smile at his helplessness, knowing that he was too weak even to pursue his own homosexuality. But the feelings of contempt that she would have ordinarily held for his kind didn't come then.
It was crazy, she thought, and turned her attention to the fading sunset and rapidly encroaching darkness of the tropical evening. A sudden cool breeze blew through her hut, prelude to a storm.
Phillip's eyes were on his glass. The brandy burned its way down his throat, but he still couldn't feel the burst of life that it was supposed to give him. He had hardly ever touched strong stuff before and had never been able to hold it down long enough to get the giddy sensation of drunkenness that some of his friends had gotten before they became amiable enough to let him blow them. But this time, he vowed to himself, he would become drunk and when he had finished the brandy and shoved it across the table towards Miss Gorst she refilled it. He drank it quickly, gagging a few times and glad that the woman made no comment about it.
Eva filled his glass two more times before she had felt the time was right for her to make her move. And then it was very easy. The brandy had done its necessary work, making Phillip numb and dizzy enough not to resist as she helped him over to the bed, stripped his shorts from him and slowly undressed herself in the fading light of the evening.
The wind picked up, shaking the blinds until Eva moved from the side of the bed and closed the windows and the door. This was a night that she didn't want to be disturbed, but she felt confident that Pedro would be busy with Ann or Ellen or perhaps both of them. He was that type and they were susceptible enough to go along with whatever he wanted to do with them. But then, she thought, the boys will go along with me.
It became very still in the room when she had closed the windows, even though they could still hear the wind howling higher and higher outside. Eva slipped down beside Phillip and took his face in her hands, holding his head gently and firmly, and then kissed him full on the mouth, softly and moth-at first and as her body warmed next to his, more passionately. Her tongue forced his lips apart and probed into the warmth behind. He seemed to stiffen at her touch, but the brandy haze clouded whatever resistance he would have made sober. He felt the stirrings of an erection as her hand glided down his body and cradled his genitals warmly. The touch was different, but not so much different from a certain boy he had known in school. Only Miss Gorst's hands seemed more knowledgeable, softer. Or was it the boy? He closed his eyes and opened his mouth wider to accept the tongue and let his gonads run wild with the touch.
Eva felt his stirring manhood and quickly began to stroke it. His eyes were closed and he might have been thinking of other things, but she knew that she would make him a man. He had a fair-sized cock and when it reached the peak of hardness it had proven enough to make Eva feel the moisture form between her legs. She wanted to move from his mouth then and take his hard cock between her lips, but she realized that she had to continue to kiss him and keep him hard until she could roll over on top of him and give him the woman-fuck that he had never had. Slowly she moved her thigh over his legs, inching herself closer and closer to his crotch. All the time, she kept her hand busy massaging his penis, squeezing it first firmly and then loosely, titillating it enough to keep it hard and anxious. Her mouth crushed down harder on his as she wondered what he expected, but then she didn't want to think about it. She wanted to crawl up on top of the boy and impale herself on his rigid boy-man cock, faggot penis that she would change.
Phillip had no hair on his youthful chest and when Eva finally broke away from his mouth, leaving him panting and moaning with the pleasure of her stroking hand, she felt like she was kissing the warm flesh of a girl. It was not an unsatisfactory sensation as she tongued the little nipple on his chest. His cries of sexual delight filled her ears over the moaning of the wind as the storm outside began to keep pace with the storm on the bed. The time was there and she rolled her hips over his and settled down over his cock, grinding her pillowy rump over his crotch until she was certain that the full length of the boy's cock was buried in her wet love purse.
The shock of her hot cleft seared through Phillip's body. He thrust his hips upward to meet her rolling ass and while he held his eyes closed he imagined the times that he had stuck that cock into the tight, hot hole of his boyfriend's ass. But this was different. So different, and so much alive that he felt the surge of his orgasm rise from his groin and rip through his body and then spurt lovingly and dizzyingly into the hot crevice of Miss Gorst's cunt.
Eva felt his stream of love slam into her and crushed herself down on him. Her lips covered his moaning mouth and while she didn't feel much of an orgasm herself, she was triumphant at having given the boy one, given him his first woman-fuck orgasm. She pressed her sensuous body down on his, holding him and holding his cock between her legs. She felt his body tense and respond with the final spasms of his orgasm, but she continued to tense her vaginal muscles, milking the last drop from the boy's cock, making him feel the potency of her lovemaking.
Despite her efforts and regardless of the sexual tactics that she employed on him, Phillip gradually resisted her, found that the brandy haze wore thin soon, and the chilling reality of what he was doing was upon him. Eva was a woman, his mother-figure, lover, disgusting, drunk and whore. As he struggled beneath her sensuous weight, he could hear his father shout at the object of some early affection, the stabbing screams of bitterness and. hate and they were all directed at that woman, all women, even at Miss Gorst who had tried so hard. But the shouts wouldn't stop in his mind, even when he told himself as calmly as he knew how that this was a different woman another time and place, but his nerves ripped his soul and told him his thoughts were false, his mother was there on top of him, her juicy cunt splayed for the disgusting hard thing between his legs and all the while his father shouted and laughed over the both of them.
It had never really happened to Phillip, but at that moment in time, he relived a fantasy and when he could find the strength, he shoved Eva from his body and ran, grabbing his shorts on the way out.
He ran naked to the beach, falling face down in the soft and still warm sand near the lapping surf. Strange, he thought, how calm the surf was when the wind and the rain were making such fuss. And how warm, too, despite the cool drops that splashed over his fevered body. He knew that he could never go back. He could never face her again, and he could never look at anyone ever. But the raindrops were cooler than the sand or the lapping surf and he felt reawakened, reborn because he knew that this was the last night he would live. Death seemed to be reaching out for him and as he accepted the idea he knew that he would meet that spectre with dignity. He put on his wet shorts, ignoring the grating effect of the sand against his smooth-fleshed body.
Phillip turned his face directly into the lashing rain and wind, no longer caring that he was being hurt or that there was danger that he would catch a chill. Those were things that no longer mattered. He walked with a new resolution through the storm and back into the jungle for no other reason than to taste the pregnant smell of its overripe living. He filled his lungs with the damp earthy odors and nearly felt faint from the ecstasy of it, the living and dying of it.
He was still huddled under a tree after the storm had passed. Pedro and Bob found him. But then they had been looking for him. Pedro had been told the story of Phillip's blow job on Alex and about Eva. Bob told it all to the burly sailor. He told more, too, told the first-mate that when they were rescued, he, Bob, would be able to make the sailor a captain. Bob knew his father and he knew his own control over the old man. It was an easy thing to promise. Money, of course, had considerably more appeal to Pedro than anything else, even the soft young cunts of virgins.
Pedro had listened to Bob for a long time, at first putting the kid down, then laughing about the way Eva had put him off, but eventually growing more interested as Bob Haas explained how he wanted to get even with the little faggot. And the money, Pedro could not quite get the idea of the money out of his mind. And when it came to doing some pleasurable harm to Phillip, Pedro knew just how to do it.
They had watched the hut for a long time, but when the lantern had come on some hours after the storm had arrived, they realized that Phillip had left.
Phillip looked up, startled but not frightened, when the two arrived. He was about to say something when Bob shushed him and then told him to come along. Pedro stood aside and nodded to the young boy. Phillip got up and followed the two through the jungle to Pedro's hut. No one said anything as they came close to it, but Phillip felt a sudden stab of fear.
"Where are you taking me?" But he was shoved into the hut by Bob after the first mate had opened the door.
Pedro had lit the lantern and when Bob closed the door and locked it, Phillip ran back and tried to leave. He was shoved towards the bed with a rough laugh by both the big boy and the first mate. Phillip turned from one to the other, saw that they had both been drinking, and became genuinely frightened.
"We're just going to have ourselves a little fun," Pedro said, opening the bottle and drinking directly. He passed it over to Bob and then said, "Get your shorts off, lad. We're going to have some queer fun."
"No," Phillip cried out, but Bob was suddenly next to him, his fist jabbing painfully into Phillip's belly.
"Oh yes, you little faggot. Now get out of those shorts or I'll tear you out of them." Pedro and Bob watched with sadistic pleasure as the kid slowly unhitched his shorts and let them fall. The first mate laughed and made a raunchy comment about the size of Phillip's cock. Then he dropped his own shorts and walked over to the boy. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his lap seemed to Phillip to be filled with enormous cock and balls. The boy was almost hypnotized by the sight when Pedro's arm shot out and pulled him close. "Now get down, you cock-sucking little bastard. And you better make it good."
Phillip turned pale and began to shake. He was too scared to cry out again, but he resisted going down on the first-mate as long as he could. But Pedro's grip tightened on his arm and he felt powerless as he was pulled down, down to the lap full of genitals. Tears rolled down his cheeks, but they were ignored by the big man who put his other hand on the boy's head and pulled him closer to the long, thick cock, swollen with need. "Suck it, goddamn you, or I'll make you wish you had."
It was so big Phillip thought that he would never be able to take it in his mouth, but he obediently opened his jaws and let his mouth be pushed down by the first-mate until the thick head of the cock passed his lips and pressed against his tongue. He fought then, but the man was too strong. A sudden sharp pain in his neck made him realize that he was helpless. He rolled his tongue over the thick knob of Pedro's cock, sucked hard at the hot bulge in his mouth and began to bob his head up and down. The pressure on his neck was relaxed and Phillip fell into the steady rhythm, no longer caring that what he was doing was something that he had tried to fight away. This was rape, he thought, and there was a panicky thrill that shot through his loins as he found that he enjoyed the idea of being forced to do what he had done so often voluntarily. He sucked the big penis faster, suddenly finding space for the enlarged organ farther and farther down his throat. He forced his head downward until the great knob of Pedro's hardon banged against his tonsils and still Phillip thought with wonderment that he had not even taken half of the cock. He felt himself caught up in the dizzying excitement of blowing the big man, his head rang with the blood racing through his body, and he felt his own cock painfully hard.
Without thinking, he reached down and started to play with himself, but Pedro's hand swept the boy's arm away. Over the hammering in his head, he heard the big man say that he couldn't do that. It was painful and he wanted to beat his meat so badly that he almost cried, but then he felt still more excitement by being forced from even the small pleasure of masturbation. He renewed with greater frenzy his blowing task. His tongue lashed around the head of Pedro's cock and his lips slurped over it on the upstroke. Phillip wanted to go down more, take the fat bag of balls into his mouth, but he didn't dare remove the throbbing penis. His tongue turned to a trip hammer as it lashed rapidly over Pedro's glans, and the quick erotic treatment brought the first-mate up to his peak and then brought out a thick stream of come that shot into the back of the boy's throat.
Pedro was very pleased, but he held the boy's head until the last drop of semen had been sucked from his cock.
All the time Bob had been watching with fascination as the boy sucked off Pedro. He remembered the delicious thrill of Eva's mouth and wondered whether Phillip was as good as she. He waited impatiently for Pedro to come and when the first-mate finally stood up and walked back to the table, Bob was out of his shorts and sitting on the edge of the bed.
Phillip was fatigued but he didn't resist when he found himself faced with Bob's cock. It, too, was very large, not as big as Pedro's, but big enough. He took the hard shaft into his mouth and worked it quickly, his head and tongue and lips moving slickly over the hot cock, up and down, up and down until Phillip thought that his neck would break.
Pedro felt some surprise that he would become aroused so quickly after having a blow job, but as he watched the boy suck Bob he felt a new stirring in his loins. He took another swallow of brandy, got up from the table and went to the cupboard where he took down a container of coconut oil. It would do nicely, he thought.
The pain in Phillip's neck shot down through his shoulder muscles, but he kept sucking Bob's cock, enjoying the pain as much as he had enjoyed the thought of being forced into what he was doing. But he was relieved when Bob came at last and he fell across the bed, still kneeling but not uncomfortable. The muscles relaxed and the pain began to subside.
"He sucked like a woman," Pedro said laughingly. "Now let's see if he can fuck like a woman."
Phillip turned and looked at the first mate with new pain in his eyes. He knew what the man was saying and when the first mate came over to him with the container of oil, he turned away and started pleading. "I can't do that, Pedro. I'm too small. Please, for god's sake don't. I couldn't take you. You're too big." He fell over to the man's legs, his hand grabbing the thick stem of manhood. He opened his mouth and took the familiar fat penis in, warmed it, sucked it, but Pedro pushed him away.
"Get on the bed and spread your cheeks, little one. I know you're going to enjoy this."
"Please. Please don't." But even as he was crying and begging, Pedro was forcing his legs onto the bed, pressing down on the boy's neck and forcing his ass high in the air. Phillip cried out again, but a sudden pressure on his neck made him gag off the sound in the fabric of the bedclothes.
Pedro stood aside for a moment and then dipped his hand into the oil. Phillip felt only the light touch of the first mate's fingers as they smoothed the oil over his anus, and then the added weight as the man climbed onto the bed behind him. Pedro's finger probed lightly into the boy's rectum, and Phillip almost felt a sensation of pleasure. But it was quickly replaced by the massive knob of Pedro's cock, hard and hot at the small sphincter and then the sudden shock of pain as Pedro's cock, well lubricated by the oil, slid inside.
Phillip felt totally debased, but he couldn't move. Pedro's hand was again pressing down on the back of his neck. But his ass felt like it was on fire, stretched to the rending point and only the thick knob of Pedro's cock had entered. The rest of it sent a new, screaming spasm of pain through his rectum as the first mate gave a heavy lunge and sank himself right up to the hilt in the boy's ass. Phillip cried out in pain and screamed aloud only to be forced face down onto the coyer of the bed. The big cock slipped back and lunged forward. The second time the cock buried itself tip his ass, Phillip felt little pain, only the growing awareness of the thickness where no thickness ought to be. Gradually he began to feel some pleasure as the heavy cock rammed back and forth into his body and this time there was no denying the painful erection. Phillip's hand slipped down between his legs, grabbed his small cock and beat it in time with the first mate's strokes. Phillip's orgasm was more powerful than he had ever experienced, coming just as Pedro's cock ground mercilessly against the boy's prostate gland. A few minutes later and Pedro shot his load hotly into the boy's rectum and pulled himself out with a satisfying pop.
Bob had become re-aroused by the sight of Pedro buggering Phillip and when the first-mate rose from the bed, Bob went over and forced his cock into the boy's mouth another time. And then it was Pedro's turn to get hard again. He found the second entry into Phillip's ass much easier than the first.
Phillip's mind went blank that night. He vaguely remembered being used over and over again. His ass felt like there was a gaping hole in it. His mouth was dry, sour tasting, sour from Bob and Pedro and sour from the way he had finally thrown up after the two had tossed him out. He had fallen several times in the sand on his way down to the beach. He tried to run, but his legs only mushed through the soft sand and there was considerable pain in his ass when he tried too hard.
The surf was light at that hour of the morning, not yet daylight, but Phillip could see the coming brightness on the horizon. He stepped into the water, walked a few steps then swam as the water was suddenly over his head. He swam straight out, swimming slowly and taking each stroke as though he had been practicing from a text. The fluid over his body eased some of the pain and gradually his mind became clear. The water, he thought. The water was so protective, so loving. He found that he was falling in love with the water. It was so different from the harsh reality of Bob and Pedro, so comforting after the shame of his rape and the deeper shame he felt for having enjoyed what he had been forced to do. Yes, he told himself, even enjoying Pedro's huge cock imbedded up his ass. He wanted to return and have them start all over, but he knew he couldn't face them, that he would never get from them the tenderness of the warm tropical lagoon.
Phillip swam straight in the warm dark water until his arms were numb with fatigue and his legs felt like lead. Then he stopped swimming and let himself be taken by the water, down, down, and he never made a struggle.