St. Vincent - 26. Chapter 26

January 24, 1797

Granger leaned back in the large bathtub so his back was against Kerry’s chest. The warm, fresh water relaxed him, sapping the tension from his body. Kerry’s hands caressed his torso, working their way up Granger’s body, and while his touches were arousing, they were more sensual than erotic. He finally brought them to rest on Granger’s shoulders, where he began to knead the tense muscles. “Mmmm,” Granger cooed contentedly.

“You like this?” Kerry asked, nuzzling behind Granger’s ear.

“I love the way you touch me,” Granger said. He squirmed back against Kerry so that his ass pressed against Kerry’s groin, finding Kerry’s engorged cock waiting to prod him. Granger positioned himself so Kerry’s organ was between his ass cheeks, and gently moved up and down, in an almost imperceptible manner. Thus they brought each other to a peak state of arousal, with Granger stimulating their lower bodies with his actions, and Kerry relaxing their upper bodies with his.

But as with most men, the central portion of their bodies ultimately won out. Kerry grabbed the soap and began to clean Granger’s torso, taking extra care to focus on his nipples as he moved his hands across Granger’s pectoral muscles. Granger slid back into Kerry, letting the soapy water lubricate their contact, so his back grazed across Kerry’s nipples in a similar vein. “I need you inside me,” Granger moaned, his state of excitement now fully aroused.

Kerry reached down and lined his dick up, the head probing Granger’s hole. Granger felt the welcome intruder and pushed back, forcing himself to take Kerry’s large member. “Ahhh,” he sighed, when Kerry was fully inside him. They moved slowly but deliberately, with Granger controlling the motion and the tempo, while Kerry continued to caress Granger’s upper body.

“You feel so good George,” Kerry murmured into his ear as he nuzzled his neck with his mouth. “I have never felt something so right, and so wonderful.”

“Yes,” Granger said as he exhaled. “Oh yes!” Kerry’s hand moved lower until he found Granger’s cock, and with a few strokes, he brought Granger to a massive climax. When Granger came, Kerry thrust up into him, pushing him out of the water, so as Granger ejaculated, his cum flew up as if it were a fountain and landed back in the water with a small splash.

Sated, Granger collapsed back against a still-aroused Kerry, taking a few seconds to regain his composure. His plan had been to recover from his orgasm and then let Kerry finish fucking him until he came, but the sight and feel of Granger’s climax was enough for Kerry. Just feeling Granger lying on him, the feel of his dick still moving slowly in and out of Granger’s ass, was enough to trigger his own eruption. He groaned, a deep masculine groan, and grabbed Granger around the waist as he thrust urgently into him, depositing his seed deep inside Granger’s bowels. Spent, both men separated at the waist, but their connection was not severed.

“You are an amazing lover,” Kerry said.

Granger pivoted around and kissed this man that he was starting to care for more and more every day. “You have obviously had lots of practice.”

Kerry chuckled. “You are questioning my virtue?”

“If you were virtuous, you would not be this much fun,” Granger replied coquettishly.

“Let us rinse off, and then we can work on round two on dry land.” Granger agreed by standing up, exposing his body and his softening cock, and then extending a hand to Kerry to help him up as well. They used the fresh water to rinse off, and then exited the tub, grabbing the towels to dry each other off.

They lay in the bed side by side, gazing at each other, taking a moment to kiss, and then gazing at each other yet again. Duty finally interrupted the interlude, as Granger remembered the Earl’s letter. He retrieved it from his jacket and handed it to Kerry who read it much as Granger had. He went through it, paused, and re-read it again.

“What do you make of that?” Granger prompted.

“It appears that he has had an epiphany,” Kerry said cautiously. “I would be wary of accepting it at face value until I see actions to validate it.”

“I don’t understand,” Granger said, confused.

“George, emotions were running quite high during and after the meeting. He drafted this letter in the immediate aftermath. He may reflect on things further, in a calmer frame of mind.”

“My father isn’t known for emotional tirades,” Granger said, disputing Kerry’s observation.

“My experiences with Granger men suggest that their emotions are very strong, but very deep, buried beneath a smooth and cultured veneer.” Granger blinked at him, since he should be surprised by that statement even though he was not.

“So you think he is just saying these things in a moment of guilt, but he does not mean them?” This was Granger’s biggest fear.

“No, I think his feelings and emotions are sincere, but I think that perhaps the intensity will fade.”

“So how will that manifest itself?” Granger asked, still confused.

“Your father may not carve up Bridgemont to the degree that he has said he will, but I think he will definitely allocate more of it to you and Bertie. Your father has built it into a huge estate, grander than he would imply in his letter, so you should expect to receive a significant increase in your future inheritance.” Granger wasn’t really all that worried about the assets. He and Caroline had done quite well with her dowry and the money his father had settled on them when they’d married. In addition, that was more than equaled by the fantastic luck he’d had with prize money.

“I would certainly be appreciative of that, especially for my children,” Granger allowed, “but I am more concerned with his efforts to rein in Davina and Freddie.”

“On that score, I think he was being sincere. I sense in his letter the same level of disgust with them that he expressed in our meeting. I would not be surprised to find them seriously reduced in means, and perhaps banished to Bridgemont or elsewhere for a term.”

“My father really can’t banish Freddie,” Granger observed.

“Ah, but he can. He can do it through financial pressure. It is most likely that they have burned through Davina’s dowry, and have probably eroded much of the value of Blankford.” Kerry was referring to the property Granger’s father had settled on Freddie when he’d married, the same property he drew his courtesy title from. “It wasn’t one of the more plum portions of his portfolio anyway.”

Granger was impressed that Kerry knew so much about his own family’s holdings. He began to chide himself, criticizing himself for not knowing of these things himself, but brought his mind back to focus on the issues at hand. “So you’re saying they have only the money my father is willing to advance, and he will only do that if they do what he says?”

Kerry nodded. “It is not too dissimilar to the situation Bertie was in before your father disowned him.”

“But Bertie didn’t listen to my father, and he didn’t do as he wished,” George argued logically, remembering those rough encounters.

“Freddie is much less rebellious, and Davina is much more needful of the luxuries that money can buy.” Kerry stroked Granger’s face lovingly. “They will probably do as he asks.”

Granger sighed, a gesture of weakness, and compounded that gesture by hugging Kerry closely, as if to seek strength and comfort from him, which was exactly what he was doing. If he were to later analyze those reactions, he would realize that they showed how advanced his feelings for Kerry were, and how much trust he was placing in the handsome brigadier.

January 25, 1797

Granger pulled himself out of bed, and stretched, feeling Kerry’s semen flowing from his ass from the coupling they’d just finished. “You’re leaving?” Kerry asked.

“I am,” Granger replied. “I have much to do to prepare for our departure.”

“Will you be back tonight?” Kerry asked hopefully.

“I fear not,” Granger said. “Do not look so sad. There is good news.”

“Indeed?”

“Belvidera will be so crowded, I fear you will have to share my cabin,” he told Kerry with a grin.

“Being in your cabin with you, even during a hurricane, sounds like paradise,” Kerry said. Granger rolled his eyes, but smiled. He dressed as quickly as possible, and then gave Kerry a final kiss before returning to the ship.

He opted to call on Nelson before doing so. Nelson’s midshipman received Granger cheerfully, and led him in to see the commodore with a minimal amount of waiting.

“Granger,” Nelson said warmly. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, sir, but I am making arrangements to receive you and Sir Phillip Kerry on board. I wondered if there were any other accommodations you wish me to make.”

Nelson smiled. “You have superb instincts. Sir Gilbert Elliot arrived last night, and will seek passage with us as well. Colonel Drinkwater is on his staff, and will require accommodations too.” Granger grimaced at the challenge of housing two additional dignitaries.

“I thought Sir Gilbert left with the convoy from Corsica, sir.” Sir Gilbert had been the Viceroy there.

“He stayed behind to supervise the final evacuation. A sloop was on hand to retrieve them, and it has brought them here.”

“Then with your permission, I will return to Belvidera and endeavor to create cabins where none exist, sir,” Granger said jokingly.

Nelson chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine, Granger. Hospitality on your ship rivals that on an Indiaman.” That was really flattering, since East Indiamen were renowned for the comforts they provided their passengers.

“Thank you, sir,” Granger said simply.

“If I may inquire, how do you plan to handle your indecorous midshipman from last night’s dinner?” Granger was surprised at that question, assuming that Nelson wouldn’t involve himself in such a matter.

“I will probably have him kiss the gunner’s daughter, sir, but in private, so the other ships in the fleet do not observe it,” Granger said, having thought that through last night.

“You don’t want him to be an example for the entire fleet?” Nelson asked, incredulous.

“Sir, the young man in question only joined Belvidera yesterday morning. He is only 14 years old. Captain Hope’s midshipman, the other party in the altercation, is 21 years old, and has been with Captain Hope for three years. If Mr. Llewellyn was that old, and had that level of tenure on board my ship, the consequences to him would be considerably direr.”

“I wonder, Granger, if the men are able to deduce that logically, or if they take the lazy way out and decide you are just more lenient?” Nelson asked.

“That is a good question, sir. I would suggest that if the punishment of Mr. Llewellyn seems to create a lax air about discipline, however, that can easily enough be remedied.” Granger was grinning at the end of that, even though the topic wasn’t humorous to him at all.

“You’re a bit like Collingwood. He rarely flogs a man,” Nelson mused.

“Thank you, sir,” Granger said, treating it as a compliment. Nelson had no such reputation, and was known to be a fierce disciplinarian when the situation warranted it.

“In any event, you have much to do,” Nelson said, dismissing him. Granger doffed his hat in salute and left, heading down to the pier. He’d already signaled for his gig, and was pleased to find Jeffers there waiting for him.

The short ride to the ship was uneventful if one discounted the activity in Granger’s mind. He knew every detail of Belvidera’s deck plans, knew that every square inch of space was accounted for. It would be up to him and Clifton to find, from that already full space, cabins for a commodore, a brigadier, and a former viceroy and his suite. His mind whirled as he moved things and people about in a vain attempt to attain the space for his guests that they’d find in a ship-of-the-line, while simultaneously inspecting Belvidera as she grew closer, his keen eye looking for anything out of place.

The gig hooked on to the main chains and Granger climbed the side with agility, pulling himself aboard to be greeted by the usual honors, and by Lieutenant Clifton. “Welcome back, sir.”

“Thank you. I need to talk to you about Llewellyn,” Granger said. “Where is he?”

“He’s been on extra duty since his return. I did nothing more to him while we awaited your orders, sir,” Clifton said. He had handled the situation just as he should have. Granger paused to study Clifton. He’d had a very rough start aboard Belvidera, and had even been busted down to an able seaman at one point. It was hard to see that in him now. He was a very good first lieutenant, and that was saying something for someone who was so inexperienced.

“Excellent. He actually got into a brawl with another midshipman at the party,” Granger said, exasperated.

“Yes sir. Mr. Brookstone told me of the incident, and I took the liberty of interviewing Mr. Llewellyn. He appeared to think the honor of the ship was at stake. Romulus’ midshipman said we were a floating den of sodomy and vice.”

“And you know quite well that is no excuse,” Granger snapped. It did tend to mitigate the offense, but it didn’t eliminate it.

“I do, sir,” Clifton agreed.

“Have the bosun lay aft with his cane,” Granger said. “I explained to the commodore that he’d kiss the gunner’s daughter, but he’d do it in private. We’ll use one of the 18-pounders in my cabin.”

“That will be out of sight, sir,” Clifton said. “Hercule has injured his arm.” Hercule was the bosun.

“Well send Holmquist back, then,” Granger said. Holmquist was one of the bosun’s mates. He was a handsome, strong Swede that had fucked Granger on a few occasions. He had an enormous cock, and a nice easy-going manner.

“Aye aye sir,” he said. Granger went to his cabin in a foul mood. He hated punishment, hated it. To him, it signified that not only had his people let him down, but he’d let them down. In this case, if he’d picked Gatling to go, this never would have happened. Gatling was older; more sophisticated, and knew Granger’s methods and mindset. Brawling at an official function would have been unthinkable. Instead, he’d brought Llewellyn, a new and untrained recruit.

A knock at the door heralded the arrival of Holmquist. “You sent for me, sir?” Granger saw him constantly on duties around the ship, but now, having him standing in his cabin, he remembered what an incredibly erotic lover Holmquist was. He recalled the contrast between Holmquist’s soft and loving touches with the feeling of his huge dick, almost ripping Granger’s whole body open as he penetrated him.

“Mr. Midshipman Llewellyn opted to get into a brawl at the dinner party last night,” Granger stated.

“Aye sir,” Holmquist said. “The whole ship knows about it, begging your pardon, sir. They’re proud of the lad for sticking up for our ship. It’s made him pretty popular.”

Granger looked up to the deck beams in frustration. This was lower-deck justice, but the problem here was that Llewellyn was an officer. “He is to kiss the gunner’s daughter. I thought we’d do it in here. Clear off the starboard 18-pounder.” There was a cover on it. “You, me, and the lad, that should be a sufficient group.”

“Aye aye sir,” he said. He grinned slightly. “He’s got a skinny arse, sir. I’ll go a bit easier on him, shall I?”

“That’s fine, but not too much easier. Ten lashes ought to suffice. Pass the word for him.”

“Aye aye sir,” Holmquist said, and then passed the word for the midshipman before beginning preparations on the gun. Llewellyn arrived looking terrified.

“Good morning, Mr. Llewellyn,” Granger said coldly.

“Good morning, sir,” the young man said. He was doing his utmost to stand still this morning, but he was so nervous it was impossible. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“Fighting with another officer at a banquet is a rogue thing to do,” Granger said. “You’re an officer, not a topman. That kind of behavior may be tolerated before the mast, but it is not seemly from someone of your station.” Granger almost spat his words out, so severe was he.

“I understand now, sir,” the young man said fatalistically.

“You represent our ship, and you embarrassed us all last night. When I called on the commodore this morning, he specifically asked about the incident, and inquired about your punishment.”

Llewellyn stared at him, horrified. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“So now, to focus this lesson, you will kiss the gunner’s daughter. Ten times, to be exact,” Granger said.

“No sir,” Llewellyn said. “Please sir. Please, not that.” Granger stared at him oddly. This was highly unusual.

“Mr. Llewellyn, it was not a question, it was a sentence. Most officers know better than to object in a situation like this. It makes you seem cowardly, and I know that is not true.” That last sentence had sparked fire in his eyes.

“No sir, I’m not a coward, it’s just that….”

“Enough!” Granger exclaimed frustrated. “I have made my decision.”

“Yes, sir,” Llewellyn said nervously.

“Sir,” Holmquist said, interrupting. “That gun has just been cleaned and it’s got oil on it. Mr. Llewellyn won’t want to be wearing his uniform.”

“Quite right,” Granger said.

“Sir?” Llewellyn asked, almost terrified.

“Strip down, Mr. Llewellyn,” Holmquist growled, feeling bad that he’d already bothered Granger with the issue.

Llewellyn went over to the gun and began to pull his clothing off, article by article, until he stood there in front of them, totally nude. He had the body of an adolescent, although it was more mature than most his age. Granger couldn’t help noticing his dark pubic hair that contrasted so intensely with his white skin, and had to force himself not to focus on Llewellyn’s dick, which appeared to be slightly plump; an unusual occurrence for a man about to be caned. Holmquist tied Llewellyn to the gun, and did so roughly. He was clearly annoyed at the lad’s reluctance to submit to punishment, and that would only make it worse.

Granger stood there passively as the young man was tied up and pondered Llewellyn’s reaction. Most midshipmen took their punishment like men, and the good ones didn’t yelp in pain at all. That he should show reluctance, and fear, was damning. Granger began to wonder if he’d be able to make a good officer out of him. Cowardice was something that was tough to cure.

“All ready, sir,” Holmquist said. He smacked his cane in his hand. Llewellyn was stretched across the gun, his lithe young body looking so perfect and unblemished. His ass was skinny, so thin that he wouldn’t have much padding to ease the blows. With his legs spread like that, his cute little pucker was exposed, with almost no hair at all in his ass crack. Standing behind him, Granger could see his small balls dangling there, both of them covered with just the lightest coat of dark hair. For his part, Llewellyn didn’t seem a bit put off by it, although that’s maybe because he was focused on enduring ten strokes.

“Very well. Administer the punishment,” Granger ordered. With the first loud ‘swack’, Granger half expected Llewellyn to break down in tears, but he did nothing of the sort. Instead he endured it like a man. Granger noticed that after the fourth stroke, Holmquist eased up on him a bit, evidently appreciating his fortitude.

It was after the sixth blow that things changed. Llewellyn’s breathing had gotten more intense, and instead of lying there, passively taking the strokes, he began to swivel his hips. Granger watched, amazed, as Llewellyn began to hump the gun, thrusting and gyrating his hips so his cock must be rubbing against the lubed barrel. Holmquist looked questioningly at Granger, but Granger just nodded. The punishment must continue, regardless of the strange circumstances.

Holmquist saw Llewellyn’s thrusting, and his own huge dick rose to the occasion. After the eighth stroke he allowed his cane to slide down the lad’s crack, brushing across his hole. Llewellyn moaned even louder and thrust even harder, a moan that was emphasized when the ninth blow landed.

“Appears to be enjoying it, sir,” Holmquist observed to Granger, who said nothing but glared at Holmquist. Granger was frustrated, frustrated because he was mad at this lad who was causing him problems, yet the incident was highly erotic, and his own pants were tenting as badly as Holmquist’s. He saw the boy’s almost hairless ass crack, with its cute little pucker winking at him, and had an almost uncontrollable urge to submit him to a whole different type of punishment.

The tenth blow hit, and Llewellyn’s body broke into spasms. At first, Granger wasn’t sure what was happening, but then he saw the familiar white liquid, running down the barrel of the gun. It was Llewellyn’s semen. The lad had ejaculated when he’d been hit by the last stroke. Granger took stock of the situation. Llewellyn had collapsed onto the gun, sobbing, his cum dripping down the barrel, while Holmquist was standing there, hard as a rock, lusting after Llewellyn’s tight little hole. “Let him go,” Granger ordered.

Holmquist pulled himself out of his lust-filled daydream. “Aye aye sir.” As soon as he was untied, Llewellyn stood up. He was a total mess, with cum all over his abdomen and pubic hair. Granger handed him a handkerchief and let him wipe himself off, then handed another one to Holmquist so he could clean off the gun. Llewellyn dressed quickly, but he was really distraught.

“Gentlemen,” Granger said, getting their attention. “Here’s what we’re going to remember from this. Mr. Llewellyn took his ten strokes bravely. That’s all. Do I make myself clear?”

“Aye aye sir,” Holmquist said. He looked at Llewellyn. “I won’t say nothing about this, sir.”

Llewellyn looked relieved beyond measure, as if he’d just been reborn. “Thank you,” he said feebly. Granger nodded to dismiss Holmquist, then led Llewellyn over to his sitting area. He poured them both a tall glass of brandy.

“So that’s what you were trying to tell me?” Granger asked. “That you get aroused when you’re beaten?” Granger had never felt that way himself, but based on some of the things he’d done and seen, he knew that the male mind was a tawdry place, capable of harboring some pretty wicked fantasies.

“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry, sir.”

“How did this happen?”

“I don’t know, sir. It’s always been this way. I was an unruly boy, and I got lashed a lot. When I got older, I started to like it. It made getting in trouble that much more fun,” he said with a mischievous grin, then remembered himself, and frowned.

“I’m worried that you’ll think that punishment on this ship is enjoyable, and your performance will be less than satisfactory,” Granger said seriously. The last thing he needed was a midshipman who tried to get into trouble so he could get off when he got whipped.

“No, sir. I won’t, sir,” Llewellyn said, almost pleading.

“In any event, next time we’ll pick something else other than caning.”

“Sir…” Llewellyn began, and then stopped.

“Go on, Mr. Llewellyn.”

“I’m worried that you have a bad opinion of me, sir.”

Granger smiled. “Mr. Llewellyn, we all have our flaws and foibles. You were unlucky enough to have yours exposed. There is a way you can avoid such problems in the future.”

“How, sir?”

“Only boys are beaten. Men are flogged, and officers are disciplined as gentlemen. So as long as you are a midshipman, you are vulnerable to being caned, and having your enjoyment of that practice exposed. Therefore, I would recommend that you become an exemplary midshipman to avoid being caned, and then once you are a lieutenant, that threat will no longer be hanging over your head.”

“Thank you, sir. I will do my best to be the best midshipman you have ever had.”

“I’m sure you will,” Granger said, dismissing him. “Pass the word for Holmquist!” he ordered, as soon as the lad was gone.

Holmquist appeared almost immediately. “You sent for me, sir?” he asked. His eyes strayed to the exposed gun, and his pants began to tent again.

“I did.” Granger went to the guard outside his cabin. “I am to be disturbed for no one, do you understand?”

“Aye aye sir,” the marine said solidly.

Granger went back into his cabin and walked up to Holmquist. He reached out and grabbed the Swede’s hardening cock through his pants. “You wanted to fuck him, didn’t you? You wanted to splay him over that gun and fuck his brains out.”

“Yes, sir,” Holmquist said, his voice almost a growl as his body took control.

Granger grabbed his lanolin and dropped his pants, then bent over the gun, much as Llewellyn had done, only without the restraints. “Will I do instead?”

“So much better, sir,” Holmquist said. He lubed Granger up liberally, and then gently pressed his big dick against Granger’s hole. Holmquist had a massive cock, and it took a few tries for Granger to finally take it, but when he did, it was marvelous. He lay there while Holmquist fucked him slowly at first, then harder as he went, the cold barrel off the 18-pounder pressing against his own hard dick. Granger gyrated his hips, letting his cock slide across the cannon, feeling the raw power of both the weapon and the man who was fucking him surround him. In no time at all, it was his load dripping down the barrel of the gun, and Holmquist’s seed was leaking out of his ass.