The Atlantic Express
by: justjames17
(Copyright 2004 -2007 by the author)
The author retains all rights. No reproductions
are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Chapter 20
Charles was relieved to finally get back to
overseeing the fitting out of the new destroyer, he had a lot of input into what
he thought should be installed and where it should be fitted. The dockyard was
used to Captain's demands and ideas and unless they were completely out of order
or unreasonable they tried to adapt to follow their requests. Each ship was thus
slightly different although looking identical from outside or unless you studied
them closely. The ship was now looking almost completed the activities had
slowed and the multitude of pipes and hoses coming aboard had disappeared the
crew were arriving in dribs and drabs and they were put to use unloading and
stowing stores and equipment from the steady stream of lorries arriving
alongside.
The last workers were putting finishing touches to the paintwork and the oiling
barge was alongside its hoses shaking as it pumped the fuel aboard into the
ship's fuel tanks. Charles stood on the bridge watching the men as they humped
the stores aboard, he caught sight of a new young recruit stopping behind a
ventilator to light a cigarette. His hackles rose as he drew a deep breath and
he bellowed, "That man there, put out that cigarette do you want to blow us up?"
The young lad looked up at the bridge his mouth agape as he dropped the
cigarette to the deck and ground it out under his boot, Charles glared at him
then bellowed, "Now clean up that disgusting mess you just made on my deck, get
down on your knees and pick up that filth and get rid of it."
The Boatswain hearing this appeared behind the terrified youngster and stood
arms crossed on his huge chest watching the youngster picking up the strands of
tobacco with his trembling fingers. Charles called to the Petty Officer, "Bring
that man to the bridge Bos'n, I want to get a good look at him and see who he
is."
The old Petty Officer had been in the Navy since the WW1 and was well versed in
punishments and naval practices growled at the boy, "Get that cleaned up Brice
and smack it about, you have an appointment with the Captain right away."
The boy cleaned the evidence away throwing it overboard then was doubled up to
the bridge to face the irate Captain. He arrived on the immaculate bridge deck
and saw the Captain seated in a swivel chair next to the windscreen, he turned
his handsome head to stare at the trembling red faced youngster. He barked,
"Come here lad what is your name?"
The Petty Officer was watching this by-play a slight smile on his lips, he knew
the Captain was acting tough but underneath he was as decent a man as any he'd
served under. The boy saluted the Captain and in a tremulous voice said, "Brice
sir, Seaman Martin Brice sir, I'm sorry bu-." Charles put his hand up and cut in
gruffly and said, "No apologies Bryce there is no excuse, the smoking pipe
hadn't been sounded so you had no right to be skulking there sneaking a fag
while your shipmates were working hard."
The boy stood there red faced and nearly in tears as he looked at the spotless
deck beneath his boots, Charles looked over his head and winked at the Bos'n
then grinned conspiritively. He kept the terrified boy standing there while he
looked him over he was a young smasher, slim about 5'9" tall with nicely tanned
skin and the blondest hair he'd seen in a while, the baggy uniform shorts hid
his goodies except for the neat melons of his tight looking arse. He decided he
would keep a close watch on this young beauty and see if he could arrange to
have him as a bridge messenger or look out, he definitely would brighten the
bridge crew a little. Charles missed Tom badly and thought this young lad might
help him think of more pleasant things.
He finally dismissed the lad and he returned shaking to the work party, his work
rate increased considerably after his fright, his mates gave him a hard time for
the rest of the day. The ship now fully stored was nearly ready to steam out on
her sea trials. Charles was checking all the functions of the communications,
bridge phones, engine room telegraphs, radios, p.a system, asdic and the latest
advance, a radar set. Everything seemed to be operating fine so he contacted the
Chief Engineer and asked him if the engines were ready to test, the reply was
yes the boilers were lit and she had steam up. Charles walked to the port bridge
wing and looked up at the funnels to see the shimmering mirage of heated air
distorting the view of the sky, he smiled and walked back to the main bridge and
ordered the lines caste off. The dockyard manager stood at the windscreen
rocking on his heels an unlit cigar clamped in his mouth as he watched the ship
preparing to sail.
The last of the workers hurried ashore as the mooring lines were singled up, the
gang plank removed and then the engines began to throb as the last lines were
caste off, Charles ordered slow astern on the port engine and the stern pulled
away from the wharf backing slowly out as the bow rubbed on the massive coir
buffers slung over the side to protect her freshly painted hull. The ship slowed
and turned in mid river, then Charles ordered both engines slow ahead and told
the helmsman to steer a course to take her out of the estuary and clear of land
as the Navigating officer bent over the chart working out the course.
Everything was running smoothly and the ship was much more responsive than the
old Spring Thorpe, understandable as this modern ship had nearly twice the shaft
horsepower as the twenty year old vessel. They cleared the land and Charles
ordered her up to half speed the surge of power was felt throughout the hull as
she quickly accelerated to nearly twenty knots, the decks vibrating to the throb
of the steam turbines. She sliced through the water like a shark her white wake
an arrow head behind her on the cold green water, the wheel was put hard over
after warning the crew and she heeled over and almost turned in her own length
as the huge rudder bit into the water. Back and forth she raced at varying
speeds forward and reverse, running on one engine then the other to test her
performance. She returned to port and Charles was well pleased with her power
and handling, the next day she was booked to perform gunnery trials which
everyone was looking forward to. They moored again at the same berth in the
shipyard, the engines were shut down and everything was checked over to ensure
nothing was amiss. Next day the munitioning barge pulled alongside and shells
were slung aboard and stowed away in the magazines, the task was finished by
noon and the crew went to mess, as soon as they finished eating the pipes
shrilled and the crew ran to sailing stations. The ship shuddered awake as the
engines turned over and she steamed out again to trial her guns both main
armaments and the smaller anti aircraft guns. They met with an armed trawler
towing a floating target, the target well astern to ensure no stray shells would
hit her. She steamed over the horizon and turned to steam side on to the
warship, the gunnery control officer peered into his optical sights set the
range and the gunnery tables work everything out accurately calculating the roll
and pitch of the ship into the equation.
The officer presses his button and the warning bells chime in each turret as 6
guns fire as one, sending their explosive projectiles screaming through the air
towards the wallowing target. Water spouts straddle the object and Charles feels
a thrill run through him at the initial accuracy of the untried guns. Fifteen
minutes later the target is reduced to a tangle of tattered canvass and broken
timber, the trawler signals a well done and turns away to tow the wrecked target
back to port to be rebuilt for the next ship to blow to pieces. Charles grabs
the microphone to broadcast a well done to the crew, the next task will be a
drone towed behind an aircraft he warns the crew to be on their toes.
The faint drone of a plane is heard but the radar had picked up a blip and was
already tracking the aircraft and its drone the main guns tilted up as the
turrets turned following the movement of the plane. The ear shattering blast and
stench of cordite as they fired sending the projectiles racing into the sky to
whistle close past the drone to explode in a black cloud and the aircraft
radioed back a well done, now let's try the small armament as it turned towards
the ship. As soon as the target was in range the multiple pom pom guns began
firing followed by the machine guns. Three passes saw the shredded target drone
cut loose as the tow wire was cut. The aircraft waggled its wings and reported,
"We are clearing out before you shoot us down as well as the drone.
The bridge crew cheered as the ragged target slashed onto the sea, Charles
congratulated the crew on the PA system with "very well done lads," now we will
soon be doing the same to the enemy. The ship heeled over as he ordered a return
to port, her white wake curving across the calm blue water as she turned for
home. The ship was abuzz with happiness at the successful shoot as the engines
throbbed driving her through the cool sea. Land rose above the horizon when they
were warned of an approaching aircraft, the new radar gave them early warning
and Charles hurried to the wing of the bridge peering through his powerful
binoculars out over the stern. A small speck appeared quickly growing larger and
larger as he called for action stations, the crew rushed to their posts as the
plane approached closer.
Charles distinguished that it was not a friendly, he made out the sleek shape of
an ME109 fighter as it raced towards them, the guns swiveled about and those
able to bear on the speeding aircraft opened fire the main armament was hampered
by the superstructure and only the rear turret fired. The ship shook at the
discharge and she fired again and again but the aircraft was weaving about
dodging the heavy shells, she closed the ship and the light antiaircraft weapons
joined the assault sending tracers flying through the air like fireworks
twinkling through the sky. The maze of flying metal surrounded the fighter and
several hits were observed as the plane twisted and swerved about trying to
throw off the gunners aim. Smoke puffed from the exhausts and soon turned into a
trail behind the plane as the engine sounds changed and began to miss fire, the
pilot tried to turn and climb away but the fury of the fire from the ship blew
off its tail. The aircraft lurched and nose dived heading towards the sea below,
they could see the pilot trying to right the stricken fighter as he neared the
surface but it was to no avail. A huge sheet of spray flew skywards as it
ploughed into the water cart wheeling wing over wing as it disintegrated into
many flying pieces, the pilot was seen thrown from the cockpit to disappear in
the unforgiving water.
They slowed and steamed slowly back over the area searching for the man but they
found a fuel slick and nothing else, both plane and pilot had sunk to the bottom
of the English Channel. They returned to their course and steamed home elated at
their successful blooding of their new ship. They arrived back in harbour and
tied to the buoy allotted by the harbour master, Charles ordered finish with
engines and the vibration through the ship eased and stopped. The crew stood
down and a launch motored out bearing the Port Commander an experienced old
Captain from the First World War retired from command to run the dockyard for
the duration of the current conflict. The launch pulled up to the lowered
gangway and the grey headed officer clattered up the steps stepped onto the deck
and saluted the quarter deck; he turned to the waiting deck Officer and
requested to see Charles.
He was shown immediately to the bridge where Charles saluted him and they walked
to the bridge wing together deep in conversation, both Officers stood side by
side leaning on the rail talking quietly. The crew was watching every move
wondering what was in store for them, they knew their working up period was
still not completed and they still had some time to prove the ship was ready in
all aspects for combat. The serious discussion intrigued all who witnessed it,
the First Lieutenant stood on the bridge talking quietly to the gunnery officer
as he obtained the figures for the shells and ammunition expended during the
firing practice. His attention continually turning to Charles and the other
Officer on the wing, he was certain something unusual was in the wind and was
bursting to know what was being planned.
The port Commander stood up and shook Charles hand and the bridge personnel
heard him congratulate the ship on its gunnery results and the downing of an
enemy aircraft. Charles escorted the older man from the bridge and they stood on
the main deck again in deep discussion, this continued for some time then again
they shook hands and Charles saluted him as he returned the gesture then saluted
the quarter and stepped onto the gangway to the accompaniment of the shrilling
of the bosun's pipe. He climbed aboard the waiting launch and it caste off and
motored away across the darkening harbour.
Charles stood quietly watching it disappear amongst the multitude of anchored
warships, he walked slowly to the stern and leant on the rail staring down into
the black water as he mulled over the information he had been given by the
visitor. He knew that things were not proceeding as planned and wondered how the
crew would react to this new turn of events.
The commander had also given him some good news; he told Charles that Tom the
young seaman who he thought dead in the rubble of the hotel in London was alive
though badly injured in hospital. He had been dug out of the wreckage
unconscious and had been in a comma until a couple of days ago when he had
regained consciousness, He had asked after Charles and the admiralty had been
advised and sent a message to the Dockyard, Charles decided to pay a quick visit
to see Tom before the ship carried out he new orders. He told the First Officer
that he wanted the ship's launch in the water immediately and the ship refueled
and provisioned also the used ammunition replenished by the time he returned the
next afternoon.
Charles hurried to his day cabin threw a few things in his Gladstone bag and
hurried down he gangway and stepped aboard the waiting launch which bobbed there
engine ticking over. The coxswain nudged the engine into gear and the boat sped
off across the harbour, it reached the floating boarding dock and Charles jumped
ashore and hurried up the walkway. He made his way to the station and climbed
aboard the London bound train and was soon on his way towards the big smoke.
Charles sat slouched comfortably in the seat enjoying the solitude of an empty
compartment when the door slid open and a young Air Force Flying Officer stepped
in. Charles looked at him casually then did a double take. The young man looked
about 18, fresh faced, tall well over six feet and extremely well built, the
young man looked at Charles taking in the four wavy gold stripes on his sleeves
and saluted him then asked if he could share the compartment. Charles nodded
returning his salute and turned back to the window watching the lad reflected
there, he saw him toss his kit bag up onto the luggage rack and adjust himself
before sitting in the corner opposite Charles.
The pilot settled himself and Charles turned to him and asked, "You're from the
colonies, Australia I would presume by your accent?"
The lad grinned and nodded saying, "Cripes Sir, is my accent that obvious?"
Charles smiled at him and said, "No not blatantly so but I hear enough
Australians to pick one when I hear that drawl. Have you been over here long?"
The young pilot nodded excitedly and said, "Yes Sir, I've just finished my
flying instruction and am being posted to a squadron near London, I'm going to
be flying Spitfires and I'm looking forward to splashing a few Gerries into the
Channel."
Charles looked at his eager young face and hoped he survived long enough to
fulfill his dreams; he studied him as the lad stared out at the passing
countryside. He noted the long slim but muscular legs ending at a well filled
crotch and wondered what size weapon was hidden in the blue uniform pants. The
lad yawned then apologized saying, "Pardon me Sir, it was a pretty hard night
and the lads really turned it on I'm suffering today from lack of sleep and
alcohol. Do you mind if I have a little kip?"
Charles laughed and said, "No problems you have a little snooze I'll keep quiet
and try not to disturb you."
The young man leant into the seat cushion wedging himself comfortably his legs
stretched out and was soon snoring softly, Charles sat there admiring him as the
train rocked and clickety clicked along the rails. Charles eyes kept returning
to the prominent mound of the lad's well filled crotch and he nudged the lad's
leg with his knee but there was no response. He rubbed his knee gently up and
down the stretched thigh again no response so he climbed to his feet and pulled
down the blinds on the windows of the carriage.
His desires grew watching the sleeping boy and eventually his trembling hand
rested on the lad's inert thigh, no reaction and emboldened Charles fingers
gently traced their way up the thigh to pause at the junction of leg and groin.
He could feel the body heat emanating from the young genitals trapped in the
blue serge trousers, he licked his lips nervously and gently moved across the
firmly held package. He traced the shape of the limp penis and realized this boy
was hung, his fingers moved onto the bulging balls below. The boy groaned in his
sleep and moved, Charles withdrew his hand and the lad resettled with his legs
more open, Charles smiled to himself and returned to his exploration. He became
bolder and felt the lad up, the sleeping meat stirred under his inquisitive
fingers and he grasped it firmly suddenly his wrist was grabbed firmly; he
looked up startled into the young man's steely blue eyes.
Charles was trapped, caught in the act, he could see his career going down in
flames as the young pilot stared at him unspeaking. The airman looked at the
Captain, arrogance and pleasure in his eyes as he said, "So you're a poofter
Captain, I hear a hell of a lot of you Pommy Navy whallas are poofs. Well I've
always wondered what it is like to root a guy's arse and I reckon this might be
the time to experience it, if you don't agree I'll report you for molesting me."
Charles was feeling trapped but at the same time he was excited by the risk and
danger of the situation, the pilot stood up his trousers bulging obscenely and
he stood hands on hips looking down at Charles. He said, "Come on Captain, take
out my cock and give it a feel and you can suck it if you want and get it nice
and wet then I'll stick it up your bum."
Charles did as he was told and was soon sucking and slobbering on a fat 7 inches
of young teen tool, the lad was humping into his mouth while tightly holding his
head, Charles was delighted with the taste and texture of the lovely smooth
uncut cock. His tongue delving into the loose foreskin sliding around the flared
edge of the juice oozing knob, the airman was moaning loudly and ramming into
Charles wet mouth as he tried to drive his weapon down Charles throat. He ripped
away saying, "Stop, stop or I'll blow my wad. Struth Captain you really know how
to suck dick don't you?"
Charles watched the beautiful cock pulsing before his eyes glistening with his
saliva and the sweet pre cum, the boy was close to spraying; his big balls were
tight up under his throbbing cock as it waved in front of him dripping juice.
Charles studied the almost hairless balls as they slowly dropped back down in
their velvety purse as the lad calmed down, the pilot said, "Now Captain undo
your pants and pull them down then bend over the seat there so I can stuff your
pale white Pommy arse, you'll love the feel of my hard wild colonial cock
reaming your refined gentleman's bum."
Charles undressed and knelt on the floor exposing his bottom to the arrogant
young man, he pulled his muscular cheeks apart as the boy knelt behind him and
shuffled closer on his knees. He moved into position and Charles felt the slimy
hot blunt knob poking at his entrance, he pushed down opening himself to the
young fleshy invader and grunted in pain as the excited airman pushed hard
straight up his love tunnel burying himself fully in one swift shove. Charles
groaned, "Aaaargh! Take it easy back there you aren't fucking some well used old
whore you know, a man's arse is not as big so take it gently."
The eager young pilot was moaning as he thrust in and out eagerly raping Charles
tight tunnel, he didn't last long and Charles felt him swell up as he grunted
and began to pulse sending sperm torpedoes scudding deep into Charles' guts. He
pulsed and rammed with each new eruption driving his meaty spike as deep as he
could grinding his hips against the firm mounds of muscle of Charles' behind.
The lad collapsed quivering and sweating onto Charles back as he panted for air,
his weapon pulsing spasmodically up inside its hot vibrant living sheath.
Charles squeezed his muscles on the trapped tool making the lad moan
continuously as his super sensitive cock was massaged, the young man eventually
pulled out and gasped as his steaming sausage broke free of the hot cloying hole
and met the cool air of the carriage. Charles groaned as the pleasurable penis
slid out and left him feeling empty and bereft, the sensation of the young
virile cock now but a memory as the pilot tucked his dick away and sat back on
the seat saying, "Thanks Cobber, that was some fuck, your arse is so tight
compared to a Sheila's fanny. No wonder you guys like back dooring one another."
He tucked himself up in the corner again and drifted back to sleep a slight
smile on his lips. Charles sat up and wanked his cock till he spewed his load
catching it in his hand and eating it. He licked his lips and dressed himself
leaving the compartment and making his way to the W.C. down the corridor, he sat
on the bog and emptied the airman's cum from his sore hole, cleaned himself up
and went back to the compartment. He curled up and nodded off into a sleep
filled with dreams of the sexy young Pilot Officer.
The train arrived at Victoria Street station and he said goodbye to the young
pilot and they went their separate ways, Charles flagged down a cab and headed
for the hospital to see Tom. He arrived and paid off the cab hurrying into the
hospital, he enquired where Tom was and made his way up to the ward. He walked
in and there was Tom swathed in bandages his splinted legs raised and suspended
in stirrups, Tom said, "Good afternoon Captain I'm so glad to see you I thought
you had been killed in that bombing."
Charles sat next to the bed and looked at his young friend, tears welled up in
his eyes as he said quietly, "Tom you don't know how I've missed you. I was told
you were dead blown to pieces by the bombs, it is wonderful to know you are
alive."
Tom's undamaged hand lay on the grey blanket and Charles reached out to hold it,
he took it gently into his own then closed his other hand over Tom's as he
smiled at the young seaman's bandaged head only his eyes were uncovered and a
small opening where Tom's mouth was. Charles asked him how he was and Tom
replied, "Not too badly, I'm a lot better than I was the burns have virtually
stopped seeping and itching and the Doctor's tell me I won't be too badly
scarred. Even my broken legs aren't painful now."
Charles chatted to tom telling him about the new destroyer and how much bigger,
faster and better armed she was compared to the old Spring Thorpe. Tom asked her
name and Charles told him she was a tribal class and her name was Berber, Tom
nodded stiffly and sighed. Charles talked for another hour filling him in on all
the construction hastles and the sea trials they had completed then told him to
hurry up and get well as there was a place for him aboard the Berber. A nurse
arrived to give Tom his medication and Charles made his farewell and left the
Hospital returning to the Hotel and turning in for the night as he had to leave
first thing in the morning to return to the ship.
He lay on the bed after bathing and relished the feeling of a decent bed under
his body; he soon fell asleep after the strain of the last few weeks and slept
like a log all night. The phone rang at 6am waking him and it was the wake up
call he'd requested before turning in, he sat up and rubbed his gritty eyes then
swung his feet out onto the floor as room service tapped on the door announcing
the arrival of his breakfast. He sat at the table and ate quickly then dressed
and left the hotel making for his train back to base his mind mulling over the
new operation that the Dockyard Commander had told him about and he knew the
orders would be waiting for him on arrival.
To be continued...
Posted: 08/03/07