Story – Kissing the Gunner’s Daughter

Kissing the Gunner’s Daughter

By Ian Kovnats (Gaystoryman)

Copyright © 2008 ? All Rights Reserved

Part (-)

Judging by the lengthening shadows of the mast on the deck, Craig knew that his time was nearly at an end. Soon, the First Mate would be by, and after maybe some added whacks, it would be over, until they came up with the next stage of his initiation. For a few seconds, he didn’t feel all that bad, until he heard the soft trod of feet, and he gritted his teeth, knowing what was to come.

The sound rang in his ears, and the pain lanced up from his bruised buttocks, to make his legs tremble a little, as the hard paddle struck him across both bare cheeks. He winced, knowing that it was Johnson who had passed by, as the pain began to ease.

They had made it sound like a gift, like he had been granted some special status to join the elite of the fraternity on their 10 day cruise. He had fallen for it, and as he counted off the days, he realized that in many ways, it had been special. His ass wasn’t quite so sure, because for the first 5 days, from early morning till supper, he was stretched out over the ancient cannon that sat on the main deck.

It had been a carry over or something from the benefactor, that had deeded the large sailboat to the Fraternity, Sigma Phi Tau. Even the moorage fees and upkeep had been included in the old geezer’s will, with one stipulation. It was required that each spring, the fraternity leaders would set sail for a ten day cruise, taking two pledges, for initiation into the manly art of sailing.

So they had explained to him, but what they hadn’t explained that the old crock that had willed them the boat, had been very specific as to what he deemed proper initiation into sailing. If he had known, he might have passed, but then this was a chance to earn his striped, to be fast tracked for a position in the Fraternity pecking order.

He wasn’t what you would call popular, but he wasn’t a hermit either. Craig had his circle of friends, and he had passed the first week of college life, without much ado. He had pledged, taken the paddling, the egg roll, and all the other so called harmless fun that went with pledging a fraternity, in stride. Done okay too, and now he had a chance to stand out from the rest of his class.

Unlike Rory, or Jason, he wasn’t endowed with a huge dick, didn’t have a thick uncut penis like Marshall, nor was he a blond, a jock, or even an egghead. He was just one of the guys, bit of flab on is belly from a bit too many beer and pizza nights, but he could still easily fit into a size 26 waist jeans. His chest wasn’t chiselled either, but you could see the pec muscles, and he did have some hair down the centre. Well more like a thin patch of chestnut colored hair, that matched the shaggy mop on his head.

His legs weren’t long, or even rippling with muscles, but he could still run a decent race. His arms weren’t powered by huge biceps, but he didn’t need help in opening a stubborn jar, or in twisting a lug wrench to fix a tire. He was just, well average. So he felt, and being accepted at Sigma Phi Tau had been a feather in his cap. Besides, where else was a queer average bloke gonna pledge to, without feeling like he had to hide his desire or itch for cock?

Life at the Frat House wasn’t what everyone assumed either. It wasn’t an endless round of drinking, while sex parties or endless horseplay. There was some pretty serious stuff going on, and he had enjoyed the friendship of it all, but there was a definite pecking order. The big shots, all had a bit more of a swagger to them, and they were the one’s everyone turned to, when things needed sorting out.

When the request came, for him to join this annual cruise, he was in seventh heaven. A chance to show off, to become part of the higher ups had his head in the clouds for the entire month leading up to this. Now he was here, and it wasn’t what he had expected. To begin with, all new tars[1. ancient reference to sailors] were given their onboard attire. He couldn’t help but snicker a bit, as Greg explained how serious it was, and how they were to not make light of it either, as their would be penalties, such as there had been since ancient times.

There was an order, as he explained the list of duties they would be expected to perform. He had drawn the dubious task of being the cabin boy for the Pilot[2. generally the navigator for the ship], and would also be required to stand the middle watch[3. midnight to 4am]. The Pilot was none other than the Pledge Master[4. fraternity member in charge of all pledges for the term], not someone he wanted to cross.

Everyone that was being allowed to go along, spent the rest of the month doing double duty. They would attend regular classes, do their house chores, and then after dinner, spend time learning all the nautical terms. The weekends were spent aboard the ship itself, being showed exactly what all that was involved. It was pretty serious stuff, as he realized, when he first stared up the long mainmast, to where the Crow’s Nest[5. well above the deck, small area reserved for the ship’s lookout] was located.

Not everyone seemed keen either, and a couple dropped out, but he had stuck it out. And as the sun dropped, he felt the dryness in his throat. It was nearly time, and he knew, that just like all the other times in this cruise, what was coming. Funny thing was, he no longer dreaded it, as he did the first couple of days. Now he seemed to accept it, and while it wasn’t what he’d call pure pleasure, it sure as hell could have been worse.

Least he wasn’t on the sail team, because him and heights were not on friendly terms. Still, he had done his expected climb, had survived without falling, thankfully. All of the tasks he had been assigned, he had done, but it was the second day out, when he had run afoul of the officers. He still wasn’t quite sure how, but now he was bent over the ancient old cannon, in the forecastle[6. small raised platform, at the front of the ship].

At the start of the Afternoon Watch[7. from noon to 4pm] he was to present himself here, be tied over the cannon, and have his pants pulled down, exposing his bare buttocks. He would then be given five simple whacks, to begin his punishment, and left until the start of the second dogwatch[8. second dogwatch is 6pm to 8pm], when he could return to his duties.

That hadn’t sounded bad, until the rest of his sentence had been given. Every person who passed by him, was ordered to administer at least one whack, more if they could. And as he found out, some took advantage of that, giving him some pretty solid whacks.

The first day had been the worse. He had arrived as ordered, a bit hesitant, shirtless as was the norm, as Pilot grabbed each wrist, and tied it tightly around the barrel of the old cannon. He felt the warm metal against his chest, as he his arms were stretched out, and his head rested on the side. He was beginning to understand why they referred to as ‘kissing the gunner’s daughter’ as he tried to get comfortable, to ease the pain on his lower back from being stooped over.

The sea was a bit choppy as well, which didn’t help matters. He could really feel it up this far forward, and each time it plunged down, he found himself banging against the hard iron of the cannon. That first day, he felt like he would throw up, as the Pilot cinched the ropes, giving him some room, but made sure he couldn’t come free.

Then to his embarrassment, his pants were suddenly pulled down, exposing his bare buttocks. There was a snicker from someone, as he had a bit of a boner, and it showed. Despite the hour of the day, the sun wasn’t too hot, or so it seemed, as the first whack was administered by the Pilot. The guy had an awesome reach, and there was no doubt, it was being used to its fullest capacity.

He cried out on that first blow, the surprise of its strength, making him shudder. The pain was still rolling up his spine, when the second blow landed firmly across just one cheek. It made him try to move to one side, restricted by the ropes around his arms. The third blow caught him square on the other side, almost as if it had been anticipated by his punisher.

Once more he cried out, the surprise making it seem even worse. The blow had landed not just across his cheek, but on the side of his upper thigh, which hurt like bloody hell. He felt the pain, felt the tingling in his toes even, as the boat heaved up, and as it plunged down into the trough of the wave, the fourth blow landed squarely across both cheeks.

Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes, as the warmth of the previous blows began to seep up into his body. The blow itself had made him gasp for air, as it landed so squarely across both cheeks, that he felt himself press hard into the cannon.

He felt tiny drops of water across his back, and his shaking buttocks, thinking it was the spray from the ocean, but soon he could tell it was rain water. The drops continued to grow in intensity, as the fifth blow landed, making a sort of squishing sound. It hit his wet cheeks, making an even louder sound, making him wince more, as the pain moved up and down his body.

The rain splattered across his back, and his cheeks, making him very uncomfortable. The metal of the cannon seemed to cool in the rain, and he realized he had hours to go, before being released. The muscles in his arms were already sore, from straining at the rope while he had received his first whacks. He listened to the shouts and to the creaks as the boat continued to push forward, as if it had forgotten about him.

The sudden pain that struck his buttocks made him yell out, and he knew everyone had heard him. He bit his lower lip, as a second blow landed and he knew that he had already passed an hour, with only five more to go, for the day. For his first day, it had been ordered that on the hour, he would receive his punishment, from the nearest person at the time.

As the third blow came he closed his eyes, wondering who it was that was giving him such a hard paddling. It was even worse than the first set, mainly due to the rain that was still falling across his naked body. The water had been running down his back, down his crack, and his skin was soaked from it, as the paddle came crashing down for a fourth hard blow. It was almost as if the damn cannon had been fired, the way he bucked and shook to that blow. The pain was intense, and he felt the tears running down his face, mingling with the rain water.

The fifth and final blow for the hour, came on the heels of the last one. It was striking his body long before he had processed the last one. The pain just seemed to roll on, to be never ending. He was panting, gasping for air, as his body trembled to the two blows. He felt himself leaning hard into the old cannon, his face pressed hard into the cold iron.

The pelting rain ended, as the last blow was still tingling inside. His legs were cramped, but gradually relaxing, as the sun began to warm his body, to ease the chill he was feeling everywhere, except his buttocks. The twin cheeks felt like they were under the flame of a blowtorch. The heat was so intense, so painful, that he was certain they were on fire. Yet, as the sun began to beat down, as the front end of the boat seemed to ease in its upward downward jerking motion, he began to relax.

Just as his body would begin to relax, just when the pain would seem distant and ineffective, it would all begin again. For the next three hours, he would just get used to being stretched out over the cannon, when he would be once more tugging at the wrist restraints, as the pain would lance upwards, would fill his mind.

Each stinging blow make a memory on his mind, made his arms struggle against the hard rope that held him down. The pain of the rope cutting into his flesh was nothing, compared to how each blow felt as it landed across his cheeks. The feeling of being on fire grew, and seemed to just end, before starting all over again.

At the time, he didn’t think nodding off while on watch was a big deal, now he knew different, as the minutes ticked away. He had tried to keep track, to count, to be ready for the hour’s punishment, but he couldn’t. The idea of dozing came up, but he fought it, hating the idea. It was that which had gotten him into this predicament, and he would be damned if he’d fall asleep now. Hell, he was certain they were all watching him, as he felt their eyes on his back.

It also made him horny, which surprised him. Yet after each set of blows was over, he felt the ache in his groin too. His balls were full, feeling like they were ready to explode, and the brushing of his cock against the now hot metal of the cannon only added to his frustration. It was bizarre, to feel so aroused, yet he did. Worse, there was nothing he could do about it, even though he tried.

His hands were bound, but his body wasn’t. He thought about just rubbing his body across the hard cannon, but then he realized how much he was in the open. He tried to think of things, that would make the ache go away, but he couldn’t. It just wouldn’t last, only made it worse as he waited for the next round, for the next session of pain.

Looking upwards, Craig noticed the shadows, saw how they moved as the ship moved. He could even see the sails, the way there were people up on the yard[9. horizontal spar that the sail falls down from] all showed in front of his eyes. He felt the warmth now just from the sun, knowing it would soon be hotter, and not from the setting sun.

Craig licked his lips, waiting, trying to figure out how much longer he had to wait, until he heard the soft footfalls of several bare feet. His body tensed, as he felt their presence, unable to turn and look behind. He was feeling totally exhausted, but awake, as he stared ahead, trying to see into the shadows now, feeling the ocean’s breeze blowing over his prone body.

If he tried hard enough, he thought he could hear breathing, hear other’s nearby, but still no blows came, nothing. It was unnerving, making him want to shout out, to have them get it over with, but he bit his lower lip instead, waiting.

Time seemed to be still, as he waited. His hands were tense, his arms bulged a bit, as they flexed, and his legs pushed outwards a little more, to ease the stiffness in them. His muscles were tightly wound up inside, as he found himself panting, found his own chest heaving a bit, as he waited.

Just as before, the first blow landed without warning. He cried out, as the pain raced up his spine. He bit his lower lip harder, tasting blood as the second blow crashed down on his shaking cheeks. It made him grunt, clench his teeth, as he felt his cock shake, felt it awaken too. Once more he let his body try to relax, to not strain at the ropes, but he failed. The fourth blow was even harder, making him cry out.

He struggled against his restraints, that seemed to make those watching snicker a little. Craig felt the embarrassment grow, as a hand reached between his legs, and pulled his nearly fully erect penis down, so it dangled under his groin. There was a small sound of someone clapping, then the final blow landed squarely across both of his cheeks.

Tears were rolling down his face, as he heard himself cry out, as he sobbed. The pain was intense, yet he felt strangely satisfied, that he had made it through the day. His muscles ached, yet as his arms began to relax, to stop pulling at the rope, he could feel the silence behind him. Then he flinched, as he felt the hard paddle up against his cheeks, making them quiver. He didn’t know what was about to happen, as the hard wooden edge of the paddle began to move down one leg, than across to move along the other leg. He felt them tighten, felt his body once more strain at the restraints, as the wood slowly moved up and across his lower back, then up his spine, to lay just below the back of his head, alongside his neck.

The flat of the paddle now rested just below his neck, and he felt his chest heave, as he held his breath, wondering what was to come next. Then he felt the hands at his wrists, felt the rope being undone, and two pairs of strong hands were gripping his upper arms, lifting him upwards. He blinked as he stared out at the setting sun, at the horizon ahead. It was a deep red, where the sky met the ocean, and he sighed, as he was lifted up.

His legs were still numb, and he felt the arms holding all of his weight, as he was gently moved around, and as he looked out, he saw his crew mates all standing there. They were all staring at him, as he stared back, wondering what they were thinking, feeling himself slowly regaining use of his limbs.

He felt the two holding him up, bring him closer to the figure standing almost directly in front. Craig recognized him, as the Captain of the cruise, also the President of the fraternity. He had a lean looking face, bit of a hooked nose that seemed to suit the ancient naval attire, he was dressed in. He couldn’t help but notice, that he too had a bit of a bulge showing.

‘You are lucky, in the real Navy, falling asleep on watch usually meant flogging, and being held in irons.’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘You are excused from your duties. You will report for punishment prior to the afternoon watch, is that understood?’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘Good, you are dismissed to go below, Henry will attend to you there.’

Craig watched as Tommy turned away and walked stiffly away. He couldn’t help but stare at him, at the firm buttocks, even as his own body protested every roll of the ship. His legs were still numb, as the two holding him began to move forward, to help him go down below. He also saw Henry standing by the hatch to the crew quarters.

It was strange, but as he made his way towards the hatch, everyone that was staring at him, all seemed to be sporting a most distinctive bulge in their pants. Wasn’t hard to spot either, given the pants they all wore. No one wore undies, and as he came closer, he couldn’t help but see just how thick Henry’s crotch was, along with that wicked evil grin he was well noted for. He smiled, realizing that it just might be worth it, if that little grin was for real, if Henry’s reputation was for real.

The throbbing pain from the day’s punishment seemed to be replaced, by the ache in his own crotch, as he was led below.

The sudden blow across his cheeks startled him, as he lifted his head upwards. His daydream had ended abruptly, as he felt the pain race up his spine. Looking up and out, he noticed that the shadows were begin to lengthen, as another day’s torment was drawing to a close. His memory of that first day of punishment was nearly forgotten, as his body twitched to the force of the random blow. Yet, even as the stinging blow made him grit his teeth, he couldn’t help but feel a smile cross his face, knowing that Henry would be waiting, to administer to him, just as he had after the first day of punishment.