Chapter 3

Scotty left the galley and headed for his room like an infantryman walking into a possible ambush. He was totally unsure of which emotion he felt the most, fear or excitement, as he hurried to his room. Each step he took he was reminded of the butt plug lodged deep in his ass channel. At last he arrived at his door. He waited a moment as if he could still reconsider, as if he had a choice in the matter. Resigned to his fate, he turned the handle and pushed his door open, expecting to see the man he knew only as the pilot.

The room was empty. There was no note, no sign that anyone had been here since he had left this afternoon.

Scotty stripped naked and sat on his bunk. Feeling like everything was okay and he was safe in his room, he still thought he should play it safe and do as the man had told him to do. Remembering the man's voice, remembering the hardness that had glittered in his eyes- no this man expected to be obeyed- he sat naked and waiting.

His eyes were drawn toward his image in the mirror above his chest of drawers where he looked back at himself. He thought he looked sexy. He had messed his Beatle styled sandy hair when he had stripped, but it made him look a little wild. His blue eyes were in shadow; he couldn't see their color, but the eye-shadow effect was very sexy. His lips looked full and were slightly parted. He moved the tip of his tongue to where he could just see it inside his mouth. He could see what he thought the pilot had seen in him.

He felt the plug as it pushed deeper into his ass. He wiggled his ass, liking the feel of it. Almost without thought he had his dick in his hand and was slow stroking it. He wondered what had happened with the pilot, wondered what the pilot would have done to him. What might have been demanded of him? Would he enjoy meeting those demands as much as he had enjoyed sucking the pilot's dick? And then a most surprising thought, a thought that made him doubt all that he knew about himself. Could accommodate these demands good enough to make the man happy? This was the point where he had to face the fact that a part of him wanted to be the slut the pilot said he was.

Scotty was fascinated by the man, but at the same time he was frightened by him, by the pilot's power over him. The man seemed to know where the boy's sexual buttons were and how to push them. He began to think maybe he couldn't let go like that again. He could feel the pull of his desire, the need he was feeling. Did a drug addict feel like this after his first taste of the needle, he wondered. Admitting to himself that he was scared, he thought his best bet might be to avoid contact with everyone until after the pilot's boat had gone back toward shore. As long as he stayed where he was, here in his room, he was a naked sacrifice sitting on the altar, waiting for the knife.

Forced by fear of the pilot's strength and his own weakness, Scotty decided to disobey the pilot's command and leave his room. Quickly slipping on his pants and shoes, he pulled the door closed behind him and walked rapidly down the empty passageway toward the stern. Once outside he slowed his pace, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and then continued alone down the deck to the fantail of the ship. On the fantail he was far enough from the lights by the gangway that he could hide in the shadows and still see when the pilot went down to his boat.

The strong breeze coming in off the Pacific almost chilled him as it dried the sweat on his skin, but it also kept the stench from the nearby garbage drums bearable. Scotty was kneeling next to the rail hiding in the shadow of the aft locker, and watching the play of the lights from the boat below as it rose and fell with the large swells. Knowing that there was one pissed-off pilot looking for him somewhere made the young man grin but it was a rueful grin. There was a part of him that felt he was cheating himself out of a chance to find out what his life should be, maybe a chance to find out who he was. He remembered the sense of pride he had felt as he stared at his image in the mirror. He had looked like a hot, young, male prostitute, a sexual animal. He was learning a lot about sex, and so far he liked everything he was learning. It was hard to believe that less then thirty hours ago he had been a virgin.

In a very real sense he was hiding from his father's values, or at least from having to measure up to his father's expectations. He was hiding in the shadows waiting for the pilot to leave the ship because his dick was hard, his ass was working on the plug and he wanted to get off again. He was hiding from the man because he wanted to go to him. He wanted to feel his power, wanted to earn his approval, wanted to please him, and wanted to be his. That was why he was hiding, not from fear of what the pilot might do but rather a fear of what he, Scotty, might do. Fear of what he might become if he didn't get a grip on himself. Fear that his father might find out someday. So he hid and waited.

One deck below where Scotty hid, the boatswain and pilot were saying their good-byes over a cold beer. Scotty was the subject under discussion. The pilot had already told his friend what he had did to the boy, how the boy had responded, and what he had planned to do next if he could have gotten back with him again. Now he would have to let others go where he wanted to be the first to go.

"James, you guys have a safe trip. Go easy of the boy and it will be better for everybody." The pilot stood and shook hands with his friend and walked out onto the starboard passageway where he paused at the top of the gangplank had been rigged to let him go down the steps to the small harbor patrol boat below. Before he started down the steps he turned back to his friend. "I think he is a natural, it would be a shame to ruin him." And he was gone.

Scotty heard their voices as they bid each other farewell, the pilot walked down the gangplank and soon thereafter the small boat turned toward shore. What was done was done.

He had no ideal what the pilot may have done, who he might have told, he could only hope that he understood it was not Scotty's fault that he had to work late. One way or the other Scotty thought he had done the smart thing. He wanted nothing more now then to get to his room and get this plug out of his ass. While he held a fear that it would prove to be impossible, he wanted to do away with these new and frightening desires he was feeling. He wanted to get back to feeling like a man again.

Frenchy didn't walk the pilot to the gangplank with the Boatswain. Instead he followed the boatswain's orders and waited just inside the boatswain's darkened room, holding the door ajar, listening for any sounds that might be Scotty coming back from work. While he waited he let his mind go back to the memories of other men he had seen turned into fuck toys over the years. He had been surprised when he had first seen Scotty last night, but he supposed you could never tell what kind of man you might have locked inside of you. A man might never know unless the right man found you and forced you to look inside and recognize who you were. He had waited for better than ten minutes before he heard the soft steps. They stopped just out of his sight around the corner at Scotty's door. Silently, Frenchy stepped out into the passageway and eased his way down to the corner, where he waited to hear the door open.

Walking made the plug come alive in Scotty's ass. For one thing it was big -at least six inches long- and it churned inside him with every step. His dick had been semi-hard all evening as he worked with the cook. To start with it was a very cramped space and the moving around of all those crates and boxes off the shelves and then putting them back after the count involved twisting, awkward positions, and heavy lifting. More than once he felt that he was going to shit the plug out as he strained to hold a crate while the cook counted the contents and wrote it down. It was almost like being fucked for two hours.

Sitting still back on the fantail had let his nerves settle a bit but walking back to his room had them going again. He was sporting a raging hard-on when he finally arrived at his door. He turned the knob and let the door swing in until it revealed his empty room to him.

Frenchy's timing was perfect. Just as Scotty was peering into his room Frenchy stepped around the corner, his hand coming down on the boys back, pushing him through the doorway, across the small room, and into the metal bulkhead on the other side.

"Scotty, we got to have ourselves a talk." He muttered as he turned to shut and lock the door.

The action was not lost on Scotty, "what do you want? Why are you acting this way?"

Scotty wouldn't have admitted it if he had been asked but deep inside he knew why Frenchy was here. He sat on his bunk hoping to better hide his erection, but it just drove the plug deeper. He felt a small seed of despair take root in his heart, but he couldn't deny that he felt a tinge of excitement also. His dick strained against his pant's leg.

Frenchy was enjoying the nervous tension the boy was displaying. Hell, Scottye was practically squirming. "Well" he began, "the pilot came by the boatswain's room and told the two of us a story." His eyes focused hard and direct on Scotty. "He said that you were a cum eating sissy boy. The pilot told us that you sucked his dick."

OH god thought Scotty, oh my god! His mind went into panic mode. The pilot had fulfilled his threat! He had to think, he had to calm down and deal with this right now.

That seed of despair suddenly sent out hundreds of tentacles, each one a cold snake of fear in his bowels, he was petrified with fear and shame. A silence, heavy with the accusations Frenchy had aired stretched until he could stand it no more. "He's a liar if he said that about me." Fright was plain in his voice, he was talking too loud, but he couldn't stop. "Hell I just got off work. I was in the cooler below decks with the cook all evening." Even as he shouted the words, he realized that he was lying, the plug in his ass and his hard dick proved he was lying. He still heard his own voice denying the truth he knew about himself. "I ain't no queer, I ain't no cocksucker."

At this very opportune moment there was a knock at the door. Frenchy reached behind his back and opened the door, never taking his eyes from Scotty. The boatswain walked in and shut and locked the door behind him. The big man's eyes fixed on Scotty like a hungry dog might eye a pork chop. "I see our bird has come back to her nest."

Scotty recognized the gender change for what it was. The pilot had told both of them what had happened. Both of these men knew he had sucked a dick today. But no, that wasn't right. They had been told he had done shit, but it was still his word against the pilot's. The pilot could've lied. But why? Why would the pilot make up these stories about him? If he could just come up with a reason, any reason, it was after all his word against the pilot's and the pilot was gone. With a small flickering of hope he started to talk to the boatswain.

"I just got off duty. I had to work late in the cooler, with the cook, taking inventory. Anyway I just opened my door when Frenchy here pushed me inside and he told me that the Pilot had said some pretty bad things about me. They are not true."

The boatswain's expression remained the same, but Frenchy smiled at Scotty. "Well, the pilot did say he gave you a butt plug. He said it was something to remind you of what you were, while it loosened your tight ass up for him to use later. You know where we might find that? I bet it's in one of these drawers." Frenchy pretended to search through the drawers until the boatswain stood up and pushed Frenchy aside.

"I think I know right where to look". He picked Scotty up by one arm and started to slide his pants down his legs with his other hand. "I think it's here in these drawers right here."

Scotty started to yell but Frenchy clapped a hand over his mouth and silenced his efforts. Soon enough the truth was going to be revealed. Scotty stopped struggling. The boatswain's hand reached into his pants. There was no underwear, and his fingers easily found the base plate of the plug. He pushed on the plug forcing a grunt from Scotty. "I guess we know who the liar is now; don't we?" The boatswain left the plug alone and spun Scotty around to face him. "And we know who the cocksucking faggot is too, don't we?"

Scotty had his eyes lowered in shame. He didn't see the hand of the boatswain as it streaked out to slap against his head. He hit the painted metal wall and fell onto the bed struggling to get into a sitting position and drawing his knees against his chest.

Frenchy stepped forward and grabbed Scotty's pants by their legs and pulled them the rest of the way off, leaving the boy naked. Scotty kept his eyes on the boatswain as though Frenchy didn't exist. He knew who was calling the shots here tonight.

"I asked you a question. Maybe you didn't understand. I asked if you were a cocksucking faggot or if the pilot was lying and you don't know how that plug got in your asshole. Now which is it did the pilot lie, or are you a cocksucker?"

Scotty looked up at the towering figure of the man standing over him. His ears were ringing so loudly that he could barely hear himself speak the words. "I am a faggot cocksucker. I lied. The pilot told the truth about me." He couldn't look them in the eye he was so ashamed.

A smile spread across the boatswain's face. "I think you better prove to us that you ain't telling another lie." The big man reached for his belt and unbuckled it, then he unbuttoned his jeans and let them fall to the floor around his feet. His dick was getting hard at the thought of what the next hour held in store for him. "Now prove to us that you're a little cocksucker".

Scotty looked up at the two men he had thought were his friends. The boatswain's eyes burned hot with lust, fanned by the hot wind of his expectations. Frenchy's eyes were softer, but there was no help for him there. Maybe there had never been any help for somebody like him. He had already learned that he was not the person he had thought he was. Maybe he needed to find out who was living in his head besides his father's son. He decided to do what felt good to him and let the shit fall where it would. They had made the decision for him.

Frenchy stood still, in a state of surprised shock at how much empathy he felt for the boy.

The boatswain did not suffer these same self-doubts. "I said get your little sissy ass over here and get to sucking on my dick. If I have to tell you again I'm going to take my belt to you."