Chapter 2 – Chapter 2

Sailor Tim

Tim stroked down the front of his Navy whites and turned this way and that, looking at himself in the mirror on the back of the cabin door of the dorm-like space he shared with nine other sailors on his destroyer. The clothes were tight on his small frame, with a trim, but well-muscled, torso and legs, but they really looked good on him. The jerkin was tight, showing his definition and his small waist, and the white trousers were tight at the thighs and across the crotch and flared at the hem. It was the first time he'd worn them. His first shore leave on his first naval cruise. He was barely nineteen and fresh out of the Iowa cornfields, getting his first taste of the greater world.

His brother was a sailor too, but he'd done everything he could to deter Tim from joining up, saying that with his blond, pretty-boy looks and small stature, he'd be eaten alive on board a naval ship. That had titillated Tim more than scared him, although now that he actually was in the Navy and had just been on the sea on a tin can with mostly randy men, he better understood what his brother had talked about.

The hedge on the men who had initially circled around him like sharks on the prowl, however, was sitting on a bunk beside him, watching him dress and admire himself in the mirror.

Big Ralph, named that for many reasons, including his bulk, his scare factor on board, and his seniority in the naval enlisted ranks, had become both Tim's oppressor and his protection. He was oppressing enough, though, that Tim was elated that he'd gotten a two-day shore pass in San Diego—and that Big Ralph hadn't.

It had been four weeks since Big Ralph had made good on his pledge to protect Tim from the sailors, including a senior ship's officer, who had been chumming ever closer around Tim as he moved around performing the deck duties of a bottom-of-the chain swabbie.

He just hadn't set up the protection the way that Tim had imagined he would. He'd done it by staking his own claim and staring down the competition. Big Ralph had managed to get Tim reassigned to a top bunk in his own cabin and in the darkest hour of one night, had climbed up into Tim's bunk, naked and already crowned and with a bottle of lube.

Tim woke up on his belly, with a heavy body on top of him, a hand smothering his mouth and nose, and thick, greased fingers inside his channel entrance. He had struggled, but to no avail, with the big man. He managed to bite the hand of his assailant in reaction to the surprise and pain of a hard cock entering him, and, when the hand was taken away, he screamed for help against the attack. But he writhed ineffectually, while Big Ralph laughed and pumped his ass with increasing speed and depth. There was no indication that anyone heard him struggling or, if they did, that they cared.

Tim, who had been curious about what it was all about before coming into the Navy, now knew exactly what it was about. No one came to his aid that night, because every other man in the cabin was under Big Ralph's protection as well. They had all had their first night with Big Ralph.

And Big Ralph, indeed, did protect them from others, as long as they were willing to put out for him.

After spending the night on top of Tim and fucking him again in the morning, with Tim realizing that resistance was both futile and a little late, Big Ralph whispered the rules of their relationship to him. Since then Big Ralph had fucked him as many as three times a week, and, as promised, kept all other takers at bay.

Tim came to accept this as just another aspect of the routine of life aboard the destroyer. But he was looking forward to this two-day shore leave in San Diego for a change of pace.