The Phantom

by Wayne Mansfield

  “Where is this ‘magic’ map?” asked Sandy, probably the only one in the room who retained at least some degree of skepticism.

  “It’s better if none of you see it. If you don’t know anything about it then you can’t get into trouble. If anyone asks, you don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. Agreed?”

  All those present gave their word.

  “So if you gentlemen have had your minds put at ease, I suggest we all go to bed and get some sleep.”

  The men turned and left the Captain sitting at his desk with his half-full glass of whiskey.

  “What do you reckon?” asked Sandy as soon as they were out of earshot of the Captain.

  “I reckon he’s telling the truth,” said Tiger. “And if he is then we’re all going to be richer than Bill Gates.”

  “Nah,” said Sandy. “The government will take whatever we find.”

  “Yeah,” chimed in Bird. “Something that historical, that important, will get taken off us for sure.”

  Tiger shook his head. “Salvage rights.”

  Then it was Sandy’s turn to shake his head. “That’s only for shipwrecks.”

  “I think you’ll find it belongs to the government of the country whose waters we find it in,” said Bird.

  “And if it’s found in international waters?”

  Sandy lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out.

  “Dunno, mate. Dunno.”

  Sandy wandered to the side of the boat and Bird disappeared below deck, leaving Tiger and Toby alone.

  “You want to go for that walk now?” asked Toby.

  “What walk?”

  Toby gritted his teeth. He should have known that Tiger wouldn’t keep his word. And that’s all they had been – just words. Lies to get him to make up numbers.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he growled before storming off towards the hatch.

  When he returned to the crew’s quarters, Bird was already in bed. The other men were asleep and the room was filled with the muffled sound of the sea slapping up against the ship and the sound of snoring. He removed his clothes, climbed into the bunk above Tiger’s, and rolled over onto his side.

  Tiger could go to hell.

  Chapter 4

  The next morning Toby woke to find everyone else had already got up. The bunks were empty and he wondered why he had been left to sleep. As he was alone, he climbed out of bed not caring that he was naked and his cock was at full mast. By the time he walked to the showers, it would be flaccid again. He grabbed his towel.

  As his feet touched the wooden floorboards, he realised he was not quite alone. Tiger was still in bed. He too had obviously thought he was alone, for Toby caught him jerking off.

  “Sorry,” he said coldly. He still hadn’t forgiven Tiger for deceiving him the night before.

  “No problem,” said Tiger.

  Toby lingered where he stood, unsure of why he wasn’t already out the door.

  “Want to join me?”

  The invitation sent a tingle down Toby’s spine. He stared at the open doorway for a moment longer, weighing up the pros and cons of accepting Tiger’s offer. It was true he was royally pissed off with Tiger, but on the other hand, wasn’t this what he’d wanted since the first time he’d laid eyes on the muscled hunk from Melbourne?

  He bent down and Tiger shuffled over to make room for him.

  “Lie down with me,” said Tiger patting the blankets.

  Toby looked towards the door.

  “What if someone catches us?”

  “As long as it isn’t the Captain or Sandy, we’re right.”

  Toby lay down, his body pressing against Tiger’s. Almost immediately Tiger had his fingers wrapped around Toby’s cock, which was still as hard as granite.

  “You’re quite a big boy,” said Tiger.

  Toby reached down and took Tiger’s thick eight-inch prick in his hand. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip, noticing how the massive organ throbbed beneath his flesh. He began to stroke it, the soft pads of his palms feeling every vein. Without being asked, he shuffled down and guided the tip of Tiger’s cock into his mouth. It felt firm and tasted slightly salty, which came as no surprise. There was salt in the very air they breathed.

  “You’ve wanted that cock for a long time, haven’t you?” said Tiger.

  Toby nodded before taking the entire length of Tiger’s cock down his throat.

  “Good boy,” said Tiger placing a hand on Toby’s head. “Suck it good.”

  Toby didn’t need to be told. He savoured every second the man’s prick was inside his mouth. He sucked it long and hard, until his neck was aching, until his jaw was aching, but there was no way he was going to stop until he felt Tiger shoot into his mouth.

  He reached between Tiger’s legs and pressed a finger up against the hairy ring of puckered flesh. It was too dry to try to penetrate him, so he brought the finger up to his mouth. As he did so, he could smell the earthy fragrance of Tiger’s arsehole on the tip of his finger. Without breaking the rhythm of his mouth and hand on Tiger’s cock, he brought the finger up to his nose and breathed in deeply. It smelt manly. It was a raw, masculine aroma and he wanted to bury his face in the source. But that would have to wait. Tiger was thrusting up to meet his mouth and it wouldn’t be long until Toby was rewarded for his efforts.

  He spat onto his finger and returned his mouth to Tiger’s cock. His spit-lubed finger found Tiger’s arsehole and he slowly drove the digit past the band of tight muscle and into the warm, moist cavity beyond.

  Tiger moaned and lifted his hips into the air.

  “Oh mate, that’s it. Finger my arsehole. I’m going to blow.”

  Toby felt Tiger’s cock swell. He felt the small prostate gland harden. He opened his throat just in time to feel the first jet of thick Tiger cream hit the back of his throat. As subsequent threads of cum blasted from the head of Tiger’s cock, Toby greedily drank them down. Even after Tiger had finished, Toby kept his mouth on the impressive organ, tonguing the last small drops from the over-sized piss slit.

  Toby sat up as best he could, happy with the result. But Tiger had another surprise in store for him. He reached over and pulled Toby down on him. Their lips came together.

  “I can taste my cum,” said Tiger.

  He wrapped his muscular arms around Toby and pulled him closer. Their tongues and lips slid over each other as though they were long lost lovers.

  Tiger’s arms around him felt good. Toby felt warm and secure. He liked it even more when Tiger reached down and began jerking him off. To his surprise he could feel himself getting ready to blow after just a dozen or so strokes.

  “You want to blow over my fat cock?” asked Tiger.

  Toby had no time to respond. The thought of his cum splashing over Tiger’s big horse-cock had turned spoken word into action. As Tiger’s breath burst into his open mouth, his eight-day load erupted over Tiger’s still semi-hard cock.

  They kissed again before Tiger pushed Toby to the edge of the bunk.

  “Come on. You’ve had your fun and now it’s time to get showered. We’re already late.”

  Both men got a reprimand for their tardiness, but nothing could wipe the smile from Toby’s face. Despite having showered, he felt sure he could still smell Tiger, and taste the creamy texture of Tiger’s cum on his tongue.

  Towards evening the Captain spotted land. It was the first time since The Phantom had left Fremantle harbour that Toby had seen solid ground, if he discounted islands that were really giant turtles. It was no more than a thick line in the dusk, but it sure felt good to lay eyes on it.

  As the sun slipped over the horizon, Captain Bartlett dropped anchor. Far away, sounds of birds and animals punctuated the constant lap lapping of the water against the sides of the ship. For Toby it was a magical experience.

  “I think I want to sleep out here tonight,” he said to Pete.

  “We’ve got some hammocks somewhere around,” Pete replied.

  “I kno
w. I found them the other day. I just remembered them. That’s what gave me the idea.”

  “Well, you go for it. It’s a beautiful night to be out under the stars.”

  So, after dinner, and while the other men were either playing cards at the dining table or working, Toby went down into the hold, found himself a hammock, and returned to the deck. It wasn’t difficult to find places to tie the ends of the hammock. Toby had his choice of prime spots. With his pillow and a blanket to stave off the early morning chill, Toby was set for a night under a bejewelled sky.

  Sleep, however, was a long time coming. The bursts of laughter and occasional raised voice from below kept him awake, but even after the men had gone to bed, Toby found it difficult to settle down. There was excitement in the air and a new country, far away from his own, just a few hundred metres across the water. He could hear the roars and shrieks of strange animals, which seemed to have become louder the darker the night became. How could he sleep with so much going on?

  It must have been midnight when at long last he felt his eyelids growing heavy. The three-quarter moon directly above him was swathed in a glittering cloak of stars. The sounds from the jungle onshore had disappeared and even though Toby’s body was ready to succumb to sleep, his mind became suddenly alert. There was a sound to his right, at the side of the ship. A sound like wood against wood.

  He forced his eyes open, but it was too late. A hand came down over his mouth. More hands pulled him from the hammock and there were even more to make sure his feet didn’t touch the deck. In the shadows dark figures moved. They swarmed over the deck, taking things, before returning to the port side of the vessel and disappearing.

  Something was placed over his nose and a strange, herbal smell filled his nostrils. He had no choice but to breathe it in and as he did so, he was slowly consumed by darkness. The last thing he remembered was being lifted into the air.

  * * * *

  His head was pounding when he awoke. His body was riddled with aches and pains. The sun through the palm frond roof was bright and when he focused on his surroundings, he saw jungle on every side. He sat up against the pole he was chained to, squinting against the stab of pain at his temples. Through the trees he could see other huts like the one he was in—low mud walls with only wooden support beams between the top of the wall and the palm frond roof. In such a hot environment it was the ideal construction. There was a low wall to keep the wildlife out and plenty of space for any breezes to blow through. In the distance, at what he imagined to be the edge of the village, was a large wall made of poles with pointed tips.

  He could remember very little of how he had come to be where he was. There had been figures in the dark, swarming over The Phantom, but that’s all he could recollect. Now he could see them walking around their village, going about their daily business. But what could they possibly want with him? Only when he’d found the answer could he work out how he was going to get back to the ship. If it hadn’t already sailed away without him.

  His stomach lurched at the thought.

  “You’re awake,” said a voice from behind.

  Toby turned to find a tall native man standing in the doorway of the hut. He was naked but for a charm on a leather string around his neck. He was lean and sinewy, which made his large cock look even larger. As did the fact that the man had not one scrap of hair on his body.

  “What am I doing here? What do you want with me?”

  The native man held out the bowl of food he was holding and Toby snatched it from him.

  “You don’t want to know,” said the man.

  Toby examined the meat and fruit in the bowl.

  “I sure do want to know,” said Toby.

  He picked up a piece of meat, put it into his mouth, and found it was delicious. Pork, probably. It had a slightly sweet, slightly smoky flavour.

  “Too bad. You will find out when you find out. Now eat your food.”

  The man went to turn.

  “Wait, what’s your name?” asked Toby.

  “Kuweza,” he replied.

  “Mine’s…”

  “It’s not important,” said Kuweza.

  As the man walked away, Toby saw something like a wooden penis sticking out from between the man’s well-rounded butt cheeks. Over the course of the day he noticed several of the men wearing them. Some stuck straight out and others had a gradual upwards curve to them. Later that evening when Kuweza returned Toby couldn’t help but ask about the bizarre adornment.

  “You are a very curious boy,” said Kuweza as he traded a full bowl of food for the empty bowl from earlier that morning.

  “I guess I am,” Toby replied, examining the food in the scant evening light.

  “It tells others that I am single. Any man interested in becoming my partner will slide onto the other end to show he wants to join with me.”

  Toby shrugged his shoulders and started eating.

  “Some water would be good,” said Toby.

  “I’ll bring you some. But use it sparingly. I am not at your service. I do what I have to keep you alive and no more.”

  Kuweza left Toby alone with his thoughts, of which there were many. Foremost of those was escape. He’d already examined the manacle around his left ankle and the chain around the central post of the hut and could find no way to free himself from either. He thought he might have been able to slip the chain over the top of the pole, but every pole supporting the roof was tethered to the main post. He’d never be able to loosen the leather thonging that secured the poles in place and even if he did, he’d bring the roof crashing down on his head.

  His thoughts also turned to his friends aboard The Phantom, Tiger and Pete, and even his dear mother all the way across the Indian Ocean in Fremantle. Was it possible he might never see any of them again?

  The next few days were a lesson in entertaining himself. The sights, sounds and smells of the village soon became mundane. The only time he was unchained was when he was led into the jungle to go to the toilet. That happened twice a day—early in the morning and again after dinner before it got too dark. Several times he had to go to the edge of the hut and piss over the wall into the dirt on the other side. During the heat of the day the stench became unbearable, but there was little he could do about it.

  One morning Kuweza took Toby to the river to bathe.

  “Keep an eye out,” he said with a broad smile as if he was enjoying himself. “You see anything moving in the water, get out.”

  Toby swallowed hard and forced a smile.

  “Stop messing around with me. There’s nothing in there, is there? I mean, not really.”

  “Sometimes,” Kuweza replied. “Crocodiles, hippos, snakes.”

  The expression on his face must have been a picture because Kuweza was laughing so hard he had tears streaming down his cheeks.

  “I’m not going in there,” said Toby at the water’s edge. “No way.”

  “Yes, you are,” said Kuweza, whose expression was now one of complete seriousness.

  Toby lifted his foot from the mud and stepped into the water, which was surprisingly warm. He took two more tentative steps into the river and began to splash the muddy water over his body.

  “Get in there,” said Kuweza. “Wash yourself properly. You stink like an old dog.”

  Kuweza came to the edge of the river, the chain still in his hand.

  “Why don’t you come in with me?” asked Toby. “It’d make me feel better.”

  Kuweza shook his head. “I'm not here to make you feel better.”

  Toby scanned the surface of the water and started washing himself more thoroughly. His armpits and groin were a priority, although he would have given anything for some toothpaste. The inside of his mouth was beginning to feel noticeably furry.

  While he was washing, he noticed Kuweza reach around and extract the butt plug he wore. When it came into view, Toby was shocked by how large the phallic object actually was.

  “That’s quite thick,” said Toby. �
��The part that goes inside your arse, I mean.”

  Kuweza bent down and washed the polished wood of the butt plug in the river.

  “Keeps us loose,” he explained. “What’s the point of having a tight hole no one can fuck?”

  “But not everyone wears them,” said Toby.

  Kuweza shook the water off the butt plug and re-inserted it, something he obviously enjoyed by the ecstatic expression on his face. “Of course not. If you want a woman then you don’t have to worry about such things, do you? But if you want a man then you have to make sure you can satisfy him.”

  “So you can marry a man or a woman?”

  Kuweza nodded. “Or both if you want. But me, I want a man.”

  Toby continued to wash himself until Kuweza shouted, “Get out of the water!”

  Toby’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He sped from the water, slipping on the mud twice before he made it to the top of the small riverbank; his body streaked with long lines of light brown mud.

  “What was it?” he said spinning around to examine the water.

  “Nothing,” replied Kuweza, laughing till he had to hold his sides. “I just want to get back to the village.”

  Toby glared at the man. Not only was his heart still racing, but now he was covered in mud, which was rapidly drying. Within the minute, his skin looked like sun-baked mud flats.

  They walked across a narrow strip of grassland and entered the jungle. As he followed Kuweza, Toby was thinking. He was glad of the little excursion to the river, for now he knew where the sea was. Had he not seen the river, he’d have never known. As they approached the village he made sure to take note of any landmark—the elephantine tree by the village wall and the clearing beneath it where Toby had heard some of the village children taking their lessons—that would help him remember the direction he was to go if ever he got the opportunity to escape.

  Later, in the early afternoon when the sun was at full strength and most of the villagers were napping, Toby witnessed something that captured his attention completely. He was sitting with his back against the pole he was chained to, not thinking about anything in particular and not really paying attention to anything, when a man entered the hut directly in front of him. Shortly after, another man approached the hut, removed his butt plug and entered the hut as well. The first man wrapped his hands around the central post and thrust his arse out.