Master and Commander - 22. Chapter 22

February, 1795

Granger opened his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was that he'd returned from the Royal George and collapsed on his bed. He ran his hand along his thigh to find that he was naked now. Someone must have stripped him down and put him to bed properly. How long had he been out?

Winkler appeared as if by magic. He looked haggard, like he hadn't slept in days. “You're awake sir!”

“So it would appear,” Granger croaked. Anticipating his needs, Winkler gave him some water. “How long have I been out?”

“Two days. Worn out you was sir, the fever ran through your body, but Doctor Jackson said it would break, and now here you are,” Winkler said cheerfully.

“The ship...” Granger made to say.

“We're on course just as you laid out, and haven't sighted a sail since leaving the fleet,” he said. Granger nodded then, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep again. He felt the easy motion of the Intrepid, lulling him and telling him that she was in easy seas, and in the capable hands of his officers.

He was awakened again, this time by the feeling of a damp cloth on his forehead. The towel moved to his cheeks, then his neck, moving sensuously. Granger opened his eyes slightly, peering out between narrow slits to see who it was that was caressing him so lovingly. It was dark in his cabin, pitch dark, so it was impossible to tell who it was. The cloth moved to his chest, skimming across his nipples, first his right, then his left. Then he felt something different, not the cloth, but skin, fingers, as they gently traced his nipples. He sighed involuntarily and the fingers stopped. Granger lay still then, yearning for their attention again. He was rewarded, this time not by fingers, but by a mouth, lips, as they sucked on his chest.

Then the mouth was gone again and the cloth returned, wiping his abdomen, slowly and seductively going lower. He felt an arm brush across his hard cock, inadvertently perhaps, but the contact made Granger's hips rise up on their own, begging for more. Now the fingers were back, moving down his abdomen. He felt them playfully twist the hairs of his treasure trail, his mind begging them to go lower still. The hand moved down now, under the sheet, and he felt the fingers trace the outline of the base of his cock, stroking his pubic hairs, pulling at them gently. His body was responding on its own, arching up, begging for more, demanding attention.

He felt the fingers gently trace the outline of his shaft, the touch so slight it was agonizing, then finally reaching his head. The fingers traced the outline, the mushroom head, and one finger ran down his slit, the precum allowing it to slide across. Granger moaned and the hand pulled away. But he'd been teased enough. His right hand shot out and grabbed the hand that had so pleasured him and pulled it back to his cock, fighting it as he went, forcing it to close its fingers around his shaft with his own hand. He heard a slight sob.

“I'm sorry sir, I shouldn't have done that,” Lennox said.

“You made a huge mistake,” Granger said and felt him tense up. “Your mistake was in stopping.” He felt Lennox's fingers close around him voluntarily now, felt him begin to stroke his dick, up and down, so slowly and lovingly it was maddening and exciting all at once. Granger reached up and ran his fingers through Lennox's long blond locks. He had beautiful hair, beautiful blond hair, and it was soft to the touch. He pulled Lennox down to him, forcing their mouths together. Lennox responded willingly, and didn't hesitate for a minute when Granger pushed his tongue into his mouth.

Then Lennox broke the kiss and moved his mouth lower, following the same path his hand had made, until he got to Granger's dick. He kissed and licked the head, playing with it. Granger felt his tongue flit across his slit, licking off the pre-cum, and then Lennox's mouth enveloped him. Granger was so keyed up he didn't last long. He blasted his load into Lennox's mouth, days worth of cum, flooding him, but Lennox labored on like a champ, swallowing every drop. When he was done, Granger pulled him back up to his mouth, kissing him passionately, tasting some of his own essence still in Lennox's mouth.

“I'm really sorry sir,” Lennox said. “I don't know what came over me.”

Granger reached down and gently felt Lennox's hard cock through his pants. “Do I seem angry?”

“No sir,” he said. Granger could sense him blushing.

“Stand up,” Granger ordered. He stood up, so his dick was now at the same level as Granger's head on the cot. Granger tried to pull it out, but he didn't have that much strength. Lennox obliged him, pulling out his dick. It was really nice, about five to six inches long, and just a little thicker than normal. Granger pulled him closer, guiding Lennox's dick into his mouth. Lennox took the hint and began to thrust slowly and gently into his mouth, building up to his own crescendo. He came then, blasting into Granger's mouth, his cum tasting so sweet it was like nectar.

“I have the next watch sir,” Lennox said. “I need to go, I mean, if it's alright with you.”

“Will you be back later?” Granger asked. In the dark it was hard to see Lennox's facial expressions.

“If you want me to come back I will sir,” he said nervously.

“I only want you to come back if you want to,” Granger said.

“Then I will definitely be back,” he said as he left Granger alone in his cabin. He swirled the last bit of Lennox's load around in his mouth and then swallowed it contentedly.

Lennox was still very young, and was someone Granger would have never even considered approaching. He pushed his mind to Intrepid's roster. Lennox had turned 14 shortly after joining Intrepid, which meant that he was almost 15 now. Very young, Granger thought. Younger than Granger had been when he'd first joined a King's ship. That made Granger feel guilty. It was wrong to engage in acts like that with boys. But Lennox wasn't a boy, or at least his body wasn't that of a boy. But he wasn't a man yet either. Granger determined to keep him at arm's length, but then thought about him. He was really handsome, handsome in a cute way. Dark blond hair, pale green eyes, and a cute perky smile with dimpled cheeks. His mind told him to resist Lennox, his body reminded him that he wouldn't be able to. He allowed himself to drift off to sleep again, letting his body recover from illness and his recent exertions.

Granger lay in his cot, waiting for Dr. Jackson to examine him and declare him to be healthy. Granger was frustrated for a number of reasons. Frustrated because he couldn't just get up and jump back into his duties, into running his ship. Frustrated because he knew he probably shouldn't. But most of all, frustrated at the Doctor as he flitted around the cabin. Every time he turned around he flashed Granger a look at his cute little ass. Granger thought about the times they'd bathed together, and how this small, almost petite man with his uncharacteristically spongy butt looked totally fuckable.

“Let's see how you're doing sir,” the doctor said as he lowered his head to Granger's chest. Granger was fighting manfully to keep his dick from getting erect, but he was losing the battle. Jackson's ear moved across his nipple, flicking it, on his way to listen to Granger's other lung. His ear flicked against that nipple too. Granger felt his cock swelling against the thin sheet covering it. Jackson sat up, smiling slightly, and used his hands to feel the glands in Granger's neck, only his touch was soft, more of a caress, and it just fueled Granger's erection even further. Granger looked into Jackson's eyes, unable to contain the lust he felt, sensing the same feeling from the doctor. Their eyes were unable to break apart. Finally, it was the doctor who broke their gaze. He put his head on Granger's stomach now, looking at him as he listened to him. Then he turned his head away, so he was staring right at Granger's erect cock. Granger felt his head move lower, his ear grazing over Granger's abdomen. Granger put his hand on the doctor's head, running his fingers through his hair, gently pushing him lower with almost imperceptible pressure.

He felt Jackson's hands on his balls and moaned, thrusting up like an old whore. He cursed his weakness, his sex drive, all the while enjoying Jackson's gentle touch as he played with Granger's balls. Then he felt Jackson's finger slide lower, to his ass, across his hole. Jackson's smooth cheek rubbed against his cock, while Jackson's finger, slick with some sort of lubricant, slid in easily. Granger moaned and thrust up, pushing his cock into Jackson's face. Granger used his hand to move the Doctor's head around, and thrust up again, pushing his dick against Jackson's lips, feeling his teeth blocking access. Then the doctor's finger worked his prostate while his mouth, his teeth, slowly opened, welcoming Granger in. Now he was in, and Jackson's finger and mouth worked their magic, probing and sucking on Granger, bringing him to a huge orgasm.

“Thank you Doctor,” Granger said.

“No problem sir. You needed a purge. Bleeding is one way, that was another,” Jackson said. “In any event, you seem to be fully recovered.” Then he scurried from Granger's cabin. Granger decided that if he ever needed to get laid, he'd just get sick.

Granger stood up, finding himself weak from major orgasms fueled first by Lennox, then by Jackson, and from being very hungry. “Winkler!” he called.

“Sir?” he asked, rushing to attend to his needs.

“I'll need some food, please, and a bath.” While Lefavre cooked, Granger headed up on deck in his bathrobe and let the cold water blast him. Winkler clucked at him disapprovingly, convinced Granger would make himself sick all over again, but Granger didn't care. He felt dirty and smelly, and he wanted to wash this illness away, to put it behind him. He saw Lennox look at him and blush, which made Granger smile. He really was incredibly cute. Granger decided on the spot that if Lennox came to Granger and asked for a repeat performance, he'd oblige. If he didn't, he'd leave him alone.

Granger went below and devoured the dinner Lefavre had made him. He felt full and revitalized.

It had been a week since Granger recovered from his illness and he'd had no repeat performances from either the doctor or Lennox. He paced his quarterdeck, slightly perturbed by that, but rationalizing that it was probably a good thing. Such contact was inappropriate, or so he told himself. They were off the coast of Spain now and had still not sighted a single sail since leaving the Channel Fleet. That was less a sign of how empty the oceans were of ships than of how vast it truly was. Humphreys joined him, blending into his walk seamlessly.

“We've sighted no sails at all sir,” Humphreys said, frustrated.

“We can't always be lucky,” Granger said philosophically. He'd been lucky, phenomenally lucky when it came to prize money. He really needed no additional money to supplement his lifestyle. But he had to remember that his officers and men weren't at the same point as he. To them, more money meant more options, more respectability, and a better position in society. “Besides, a sail means a diversion of time and maybe distance, and it's vital that we reach the West Indies with our news.”

“I see your point sir,” Humphreys said resignedly. He excused himself and went over to confer with Barney, who was taking over the watch. Granger watched Humphreys head below and found himself thinking of him, how he'd fucked Fitzwilliam, how he'd offered to do the same to Granger, more or less. What was wrong with his libido? Where was this drive coming from? Frustrated with himself, Granger retired to his cabin to review his orders, his charts, and to basically be alone with himself and his frustrations.

“Sail ho! Sail ho off the larboard bow!” Granger heard. He smoothed his uniform and waited to be summoned, trying to look unruffled. There was the expected knock at his door. “Enter!” Granger said. He looked up to find Lennox looking at him shyly.

“Mr. Barney sent me sir. We've sighted a sail off the larboard bow,” Lennox said nervously.

“Thank you Mr. Lennox. I'll be up directly.” Granger stared at the young man as he hesitated.

“Aye aye sir,” he said, and turned to leave.

“Mr. Lennox,” Granger said, stopping him.

“Sir?”

Granger moved up to him, against his body, breaking the rule he'd just laid out for himself. “When I invited you to drop by and see me, I was sincere.”

Lennox looked up at him wistfully. “I was hoping sir, but I wasn't sure. I didn't want to be more presumptuous than I already was.”

“Well I have an idea. How about you come see me when you're off watch,” Granger said cheerfully.

“Aye aye sir,” Lennox said with a smile. Granger pulled Lennox to him and planted a quick kiss on his lips. The shocked, then pleasant look on Lennox's face made Granger smile. He strode confidently up to the deck, making sure to hide his erection.

“Well Mr. Barney, what do we have here?” Granger asked.

“We're closing in on her sir, but it's hard to say. She's square rigged, maybe a warship, maybe a merchie,” he said. It was a glorious day, unusual even for these climes. Granger grabbed his glass and headed for the foremast. He climbed up to the foretop and found Holmquist there waiting.

“Welcome sir,” he said.

“You're up here Holmquist?” Granger asked. “You must be our lucky charm. What do we have here?”

“I don't rightly know sir. She looks like a merchantman, but since that Bon Frère I ain't too sure.”

Granger aimed his glass at the oncoming ship. She looked like a merchantman, but there was something strange about her, something wrong. He scanned her rigging, but could see no major differences there. Then her deck. He scanned her deck carefully, looking for something, anything to tell him what he was missing, but he couldn't figure it out. His instincts told him to stay clear, but the facts at hand told him to close. “Keep your eyes open Holmquist,” Granger said. He slid down to the deck on a backstay, trying to prove that he was as agile as any topman, ridiculous as that may seem.

“Mr. Humphreys, we'll alter course two points to the starboard,” Granger said.

“We're not going to close sir?” he asked. The course Granger directed would take them away from the oncoming ship.

“Not unless I can get a better feel for what she is,” Granger said. “Let's get the royals on her.”

“Aye aye sir,” Humphreys said resignedly. Granger could sense the mood, one of disappointment. He was conscious that if he hadn't already proven himself to these men, they'd suspect him of being cowardly. But Granger wasn't going to risk his ship when his instincts told him there was danger.

“Sir, she's altered course to intercept us!” Holmquist yelled from the foretop. Granger studied the course of the other ship, and Intrepid's course. “Another point to starboard helm. Mr. Humphreys, trim the braces.”

“Aye aye sir,” they chimed.

“She's altered course again sir,” Humphreys said. “Why would a merchantman chase us?”

“Indeed Mr. Humphreys, unless she is no merchant.” The other ship lumbered around, following Intrepid as she tacked close hauled into the wind. Granger looked at the skies, gauging the weather. As things stood now, with these seas and these winds, they'd run this ship under the horizon by nightfall. But Granger wanted to know what she was. He wanted the solution to this riddle.

“Sir, sir!” Carslake called. “Look at her side sir!” Granger stared at her side, seeing nothing. Then he saw it. When they cleared for action, they'd unsecured their gun ports.

“That gentlemen, is a ship of the line,” Granger said. They all trained their glasses on her again and felt themselves murmuring their assent.

“How did you know sir?” Humphreys asked.

“You have to trust your instincts. That Frog knows that ships like us are good commerce raiders. She can't even hope to outrun us, but she can lure us in. Once within long cannon shot, we'd be short work,” Granger said sagely. Just a few minutes ago they'd been ready to condemn him as a coward, now he was clairvoyant. Their fickleness was rather irritating.

“Sir, it looks like she's taken some damage,” Carslake said. “Look at the new timber on her sides, like she had shot holes repaired.”

“She's turned away sir!” someone cried. It was true. The Frenchman had opted to seek more promising game elsewhere.

“You may resume our original course Mr. Humphreys. Call me if I'm needed,” Granger said. He headed to his own cabin, to the privacy and isolation that was his only defense against cloying officers and men. The Frog was a very dangerous threat, but he had his orders, not that there was much he could affect with just Intrepid. He was feeling sulky and moody, so he ate alone. He could tell that they were worried about him, Winkler and Lefavre, since they made him a truly exquisite dinner. Granger thought briefly about not eating it, just to show them how mercurial he could be, but changed his mind. His youthful appetite was almost as insatiable as his libido.

There was a knock at his door, a knock which interrupted his dinner and irritated him even more. “Enter!” he growled. It was a second before the door opened and a very timid Lennox peered in. Granger had forgotten all about him.

“Am I bothering you sir?” he asked.

“Not at all. Come over here and join me,” Granger said. He called for Winkler to bring him another plate and ignored Winkler's smarmy looks. Between the two of them they made fast work of Lefavre's cooking.

“That was wonderful sir,” Lennox said, smiling at him with his shy smile.

“Come on,” Granger said, holding out his hand. He led Lennox into his sleeping cabin, and began to undress; suddenly aware that without his uniform on, the ship was still very cold. Lennox stood there, staring at him nervously, as Granger got down to just his trousers. He looked into Lennox's eyes and saw his anxiety. “You're nervous?”

“Yes sir. I'm sorry sir. I've never really done this, I mean, what I think we're going to do, and it, well...” Lennox babbled.

“Shhhh,” Granger said softly as he pulled Lennox to him. “What we did before, remember that?” Lennox nodded shyly. “Was that fun?” He nodded again. “I thought so too. That's what I had planned, if that's alright with you.”

Now Lennox started pulling his clothes off quickly. “Yes sir, that's more than fine with me.” Granger completed stripping and sat on his cot naked, watching this young Adonis undress in front of him. His body was developed, much more than it was last time Granger had really seen it, when he was wounded off Port Louis. He had a goodly amount of hair under his arms, a small treasure trail that led to a small patch of pubes, and that was pretty much it. But his muscles had grown with the physical labors of being on a ship, and that extra tone made him seem much more of a man than Granger had guessed.

Granger pulled him into the cot and lay next to him, remembering Calvert's trick from the first time they'd been together. He grabbed both their dicks with his hand and began to stroke them, each drop of pre-cum giving him some lubrication. It didn't take long for Lennox to shoot, but that was fine with Granger, he just used Lennox's load to lubricate himself and he stroked himself to a nice orgasm.

“I should probably go now sir,” Lennox said nervously.

“Stay,” Granger said. He lay on his back and pulled the young man to him, stroking his back, and allowing his hand to stray to his cute little ass. “You were worried I was going to fuck you?”

“I don't know if I was worried, I was just nervous. I've never done that before, and you're so big. It would probably hurt,” he said playfully. “Sir,” he added, horrified.

“Mr. Lennox, here's a deal I'll make you. When you're in my bed, naked, with our cum all over your body, you don't have to call me sir,” Granger teased.

“That sounds like a good deal,” he said, smiling. They lay there for a while, until their hormones surged. Lennox got a cheeky grin and moved his mouth down Granger's body to his cock and enveloped him like he had before. Damn he could give head, Granger thought. He spun Lennox around so he was straddling Granger, his dick pointing straight down at Granger's mouth. Granger returned the favor, sucking Lennox's dick until he knew he was close, and then he pulled off and pushed him slightly forward.

Now in front of Granger was Lennox's taint, beautifully formed, with just a dusting of hair on it. Further up was his hole, a cute little pink pucker, so clean, so virginal. Granger dove into his taint first, inhaling his unique odor, finding it less pungent than other men like Jardines, but with a sweetness he'd never quite experienced before. Then he moved his mouth up and flicked his tongue at Lennox's hole, teasing him, probing him, driving him crazy as he gave the young man the rim job of his life. The odors, the sensation, seeing his hips writhe in ecstasy; it was all too much for Granger. He felt his load rising and felt himself blasting into Lennox's mouth, felt Lennox's throat contract as he swallowed him, until he was spent.

Granger turned him around so he was on his back and grabbed the lanolin. “Do you trust me?” he asked. Lennox nodded. Granger lubricated his index finger and pushed it inside Lennox. Granger felt him tense, so he sucked on his dick to distract him. That did it. He worked on Lennox's cock, slowly, keeping him from cumming, while he worked his finger up Lennox's tight virgin hole. He could tell Lennox didn't like it, yet.

Granger began to push and stroke that magic spot he personally knew so well, all the while sucking on Lennox's rigid member. Then he felt Lennox tense up, felt the jolt of electricity fly through his body as Granger's finger finally worked, and then Lennox came, exploding into his mouth.

“That was amazing,” he said to Granger as he lay back down on his chest. “I've never felt anything like that.”

“Now you know why men like to get fucked,” Granger said. Lennox looked up at him, a shy grin, and Granger leaned down to kiss him.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said with absolute certitude.

“When you're ready,” Granger said. “In the meantime, I'm enjoying you just like this.”

The next day found Intrepid sailing south toward the currents that would rocket them across the Atlantic. There was no sign of the French battleship, so presumably she was heading back to France. A camouflaged French ship of the line was a serious threat. Granger spent most of the day on deck, making sure Intrepid was in perfect order, so by evening he dragged his sore legs down to his cabin and had dinner along with a whole bottle of wine. That led to his inevitable collapse into his cot. Winkler came in and helped him strip off his clothes, and then Granger was able to relax, truly relax.

It had been sunny and warm during the day, and even though the night was chilly, Granger's cabin was warm. He lay down on his stomach, enjoying his nakedness, feeling his cock swell with the eroticism of it. He ground his hips slowly against his blanket, feeling the soft cotton against his throbbing member. He was really getting into the rhythm when he heard a crash next door. Next door in what was once Calvert's cabin, but now belonged to Humphreys. Granger looked back to see Humphreys staring at him, having collapsed through the removable panel that Granger had never had closed up.

“I'm, I'm very sorry sir,” Humphreys said, a little unsteady from drinking too much wine himself at dinner. “I'll have this door fixed tomorrow.” As embarrassed as Humphreys was, Granger noted him taking in his body and smiled.

“Come over here Mr. Humphreys,” Granger said sternly. Humphreys staggered over to stand next to Granger's cot, his trousers visibly tenting. “Have a seat.” Granger patted the cot next to him. Humphreys sat next to him, his eyes on Granger's ass. Granger squeezed his cheeks seductively, and watched Humphreys swallow hard. Granger had been with a boy, but he needed a man. A real man. And Humphreys was definitely all man. He had a sturdy build, and black hair with flashing eyes that gave away the fire beneath. Granger hadn't seen his dick erect, only partially when it was buried in Fitzwilliam's ass, but then it had looked thick, real thick. “Did you have a nice evening?”

“Pretty much sir,” he said. Granger spread his legs wider, giving Humphreys a good look at his hole. Humphreys licked his lips hungrily.

“Pretty much?”

“It just got better sir,” Humphreys said.

“You think so?” Granger teased. He took Humphreys hand and put it on his ass, and the touch was electric.

“I definitely think so,” Humphreys said, now letting his hands explore what only his eyes had taken in before. Granger moaned as Humphreys' fingers probed him, and moaned even louder when Humphreys replaced his fingers with his mouth. The man had a talented tongue, and he took time to really work Granger's hole, to bring him to the edge.

Granger handed him the lanolin, which Humphreys applied first to his dick, then to Granger's hole. Granger felt him lie on top of him, felt Humphreys push into him. He was a big boy, stretching Granger wide; not as wide as Jardines, but wider than Calvert, as wide as Travers. “Feels so good,” Humphreys murmured as he plunged in and out of Granger's ass. Granger let him do his thing, just going for the ride. It didn't take long for Humphreys to get him off, what with his big dick slamming into Granger's prostate and the soft blanket sliding against his dick. Granger felt his body tense up as he got close, then his orgasm exploded, forcing his hips first into the cot where he blasted his seed, then back into Humphreys who pounded on relentlessly. It seemed to take Humphreys forever to cum, but Granger played along gamely.

“Thank you sir,” Humphreys said with a grin. Then he did something Granger didn't expect at all. He leaned down to kiss him gently, so very gently, on the lips.

“No, Mr. Humphreys, thank you.” Granger put the guilt out of his mind, the guilt of having let his first lieutenant fuck him, of blowing his senior midshipman, and of letting the doctor suck his dick, all within a week. Instead, he ignored that destabilizing emotion and just luxuriated in the afterglow, saddened only by the fact that he was alone.

“Good morning Mr. Humphreys,” Granger said cheerfully.

“Good morning sir,” Humphreys said. He seemed embarrassed and uncomfortable.

“It seems you burst in on me last night,” Granger said quietly as they paced the deck, scaring the shit out of Humphreys. “Burst in me too, as I recall.”

“Yes sir. I'm sorry sir,” Humphreys said.

“I'm not. I thoroughly enjoyed myself,” Granger said. He watched Humphreys struggle with that, watched his mind seem to grapple with it, then Humphreys grinned.

“So did I sir,” he said. “I may have to stumble through that door again, if it's alright with you sir.”

“I would enjoy that immensely,” Granger said with a smile.

“Sail ho! Sail ho dead ahead!” Granger stared at Humphreys curiously.

“Masthead, what do you make of her?” Granger shouted through the speaking trumpet.

“It's a small boat sir, maybe a fishing boat!”

Granger stared at Humphreys, and now at Carslake, who had rushed up at the masthead's cry. A small boat like that had no business being this far out to sea.

“Wonder what they're fishing for sir?” joked Humphreys.

“I'm wondering who we'll pull off this boat. My money's on the Dey of Algiers,” Granger joked. “Helm, steer a course to intercept that boat.”

“Aye aye sir,” the helmsman said.

“Sir! It looks like a ship's boat!” came the cry from the foretop.

“A ship's boat?” Granger asked to the deck in general. They looked at each other in surprise. If a fishing boat had no business out here, a ship's boat certainly shouldn't be here. They were lucky the weather was so calm.

“It's a big boat sir, looks like a launch, maybe from a ship of the line,” came the call from the foretop.

Granger snatched his glass and went forward, peering across the water at the small boat tossing about in these small seas. She was packed with men, so packed that she had very little freeboard left. In any sea, she'd sink.

“Mr. Humphreys, there's a ship's boat there with several men on board. Prepare to haul them aboard,” Granger ordered. He looked through his glass again and saw a blue coat with gold lace. A Royal Navy uniform. Then he saw the face, and it was all he could do to keep from passing out.