The Stowaway - Jason Gets Spanked


by Richard William Parker <BeldinMi@mikeli.freeserve.co.uk>

Jason quietly started opening the chest of drawers to take out the things he would take with him. He took out a sleeping bag 3 pairs of jeans, a tracksuit, woolly jumpers, shorts and underwear. As he took out the jumpers from the bottom drawer of his chest he noticed his old school uniform, he stood there and looked at it. He took out a grey school shirt, grey pullover with gold and black trim on the V neck, long grey socks with black, gold, black trim at the top, his old school tie, black with diagonal gold stripes evenly spaced out, a black school blazer with the gold school badge on the left breast pocket, yellow and black school cap; he hated wearing that cap when he was a junior; and his old school shorts, he hated those too at the time, all his friends had worn trendy baggy school shorts that reached just above the knee but his previous foster father would have none of that, he'd say that only little ruffians wore baggy shorts so he had to wear short shorts, the inside leg wasn't even two inches and he had to endure the ribbing from his companions at school.

He took out the shorts and felt the cool white lining, on impulse he took off his jeans and decided to try them on, he didn't like wearing briefs and the lining felt cool and fresh as he pulled them up his hairless thighs and felt the lining almost tickle his bottom. He smiled and then frowned when he noticed that they still fit perfectly, not too tight and too loose. When the hell am I going to get bigger he said to himself for the umpteenth time, here he was 12 years old tomorrow and he could still fit into the shorts he wore as a nine year old junior. He looked at the rest of the uniform on his bed next to his sports bag and decided to put on the whole uniform. He put on the shirt leaving his top button undone as usual and tucked them into his shorts, then he put on his tie, somewhat askew, his pullover, then sat down on the bed to pull on his socks, they reached above his knees and he turned down the tops as they should be worn, lastly he put on his cap jauntily and decided to look at himself in the full length wardrobe mirror.

To his astonishment he grinned at the reflection of himself in the mirror, heehee, I look rather smart in this, although I look more like a nine year old than a twelve year old.

He started packing away the things he would take with him, it was well past midnight and his foster parents had gone to bed, he could hear his foster father snoring away like an inter city diesel train so he didn't have too worry too much about making some noise. He thought of what he was going to do, where he would go, he had decided that he was going to go to docks, he lived very closed to an international shipping port and there were always huge container ships of all sorts from all over the world, he was going to pick one out and stowaway to another country and make his fortune he said to himself, preferably with a warm climate, anything is better than England in the winter he thought. He finished packing then realised he was still wearing his old school uniform, funny, he thought, how I used to hate wearing this and now I think I look good in it, then an idea came into his head, why not take it with me? If I dress like the scruff I normally am then people will automatically think I'm upto no good, not so with the uniform, people will hmm and haa and think to themselves what a smart and good little boy he is, he grinned at that and thought it a good idea, I should have thought of it sooner, I'll be able to get away with lots of things which I usually wouldn't because nobody would think that such an angelic little boy in his smart school uniform could get upto much mischief. That clinched it, he would take it with him actually he wouldn't even bother to take the uniform off, after all it isn't cold outside and where I'm going its going to be nice and warm.

He picked up his sports bag and slung it over his shoulder and quietly went down the stairs to the sitting room, he saw his foster fathers biscuit tin on the top bookshelf which he knew contained money and deftly climbed up the lower shelves until he reached it, still perched on the top shelf he open the tin and took out a large wad of notes, he closed the tin and placed it back on the shelf and climbed down, then counted the money, he smiled there was about five hundred pounds here, bloody fool, he thought of his foster father, he should have kept it in the bank. He put the money in one of the side pockets of his sports bag then leaving his keys behind opened the front door and closed it quietly.

He stood at the bottom of the front garden and breathed in deeply of the crisp and clear night air, he already felt free, the crisp air feeling refreshing on his bare thighs. Quietly he jogged down to the bottom of the road to get away from the house as soon as possible then went to the den he had built all by himself to wait until dawn. He took off his clothes and put on the tracksuit to sleep; he slept like an angel on his first night of freedom.

He awoke at 04:30, and looked up at the sky noticing the false dawn, that period just before dawn when it seems as dark as it can possibly get. This is neat he thought, its funny how the whole world seems so utterly quite at this time, that'll change soon. He went down to a stream and washed catching his breath at the cold water, he took his tracksuit off and put on his school uniform again. He made sure that there was no sign of his having been here, he picked up his chocolate wrappers and empty tin of peaches and placed them in a plastic bag and took them with him and he had peed into the stream and made no fire so even if the grown ups find this place they wouldn't know he had come through here.

He made his way down the country roads towards the port and thought of how he was going to find the right ship, after all he didn't wont to end up in some fly blown port in deepest Africa, ideally he wanted to go the States or some English speaking country like New Zealand or Australia. _d_a_m_n_, how am I going to find out which ship goes where, he looked down at his feet as he thought it through and noticed his long school socks and almost let out a yell of triumph; he knew how to do it.

It was now nine o'clock in the morning and he made his way to the harbour masters office asking a dock worker for the way, he noticed how all the people he came across looked him up and down from head to toe, he grinned, well I am rather smart in my school uniform he thought as he strutted off to the office, it wasn't very often that these workers saw a school boy in short school shorts these days.

He found the harbour master, a rather gruff mature man in his fifties. He looked up from his desk and there before him was what he didn't see everyday, in fact he had never seen a school boy in his office in the 25 years he'd been working here.

"Are you lost young man?"

"Er ... No sir", Replied Jason having rehearsed this meeting over and over again in his head on the way here.

"I'm doing a project at school on modern day shipping control. What I'm trying to find out is how such a person as yourself controls the comings and goings of these ships, yours is such an important job sir, and I bet it isn't even appreciated, I wish I could do your job when I'm bigger" added Jason, adding sugar to his words and thus buttering up the mans ego.

"Well ... " started the harbour master. Hmmm he thought to himself, have we here the makings of a future harbour master? Not many kids wanted to do this job nowadays, in fact he doubted whether kids even thought of this job when they were thinking of their careers at school. He smiled at the boy and like every person in an unappreciated job he began to explain in great detail, and with much enthusiasm the in's and out's of his job. He noted that the boy took ample notes and this warmed him even more.

After about an hour of explanations on how the navigational radios worked and how he controlled who was coming and who was going the man took a break and ordered his assistant to get for some tea and sandwiches and a coke for the boy.

Jason was the epitomy of good manners, which he had to rack his brains about as he wasn't exactly renowned for good manners.

"Sir, may I ask you a question please ?"

"Yeah, sure go ahead little man", Jason had never been called little man before and he thought he quite liked it.

"Do you know where the ships come from and where they are going?"

"Absolutely, its part of the manifest, Customs you see, we even know what they are carrying and if this is a stop over for re-supplies etc, and where they are going of course."

"Wow, that's a lot of information for you to administer sir, I bet you're the bestist harbour master in the whole wide world"

The mans chest expanded at this brazen compliment and replied "Yes ... well, we do have a job to do" he cleared his throat a couple of times and left it at that.

Jason carried on munching away on his sandwich, he was very hungry and had run out of snicker bars long before.

"Can I ask you for a favour sir?"

"Sure, go ahead, though it depends what the favour is ... classified information and all that ... cough, cough"

"Can I please have a copy of the manifest of the ships coming and going for the next week? I promise I wont have the project finished for at least a couple of weeks, so it'll be out of date by then ... pleaseeeeeeeee ... I really want to get an A on this ... sniff" Jason added the sniff as if he were about to cry to see if the man would give in.

"Well, I'm not permitted to give out the manifest, except to the police of course." The man frowned, "You promise me that you wont use it till at least a couple of weeks from today?"

"Promise Sir! Er ... cross my heart and hope to die! Er ... cubs honour!" Jason had never been a cub but the harbour master wouldn't know that.

The harbour master abruptly swivelled in his chair to face his PC and keyed in the relevant information.

"Come over here boy"

Jason did so and the master guided him over and sat him on his lap. Jason grinned. As he told Jason what to do on the computer to print off the manifest, he rested his right hand on Jason smooth thigh and gently began to stroke his bare leg. Jason again looked at him and smiled as he did what he was instructed to and noticed that his willy was getting hard as the man caressed his thigh and his right hand went below the hem of his grey school shorts. Shivers were going up Jason's back and then the mans left hand patted and felt Jason's bottom through the material of his shorts.

It didn't go any further and Jason eventually had the information he wanted. Thanking the harbour master profusely for his valuable time, the harbour master waved him off thinking that maybe kids weren't so bad after all.

Jason went to the sea shore and studied the printout he got from the harbour master. There were 22 ships coming in and 15 leaving. He saw that 8 were headed to the middle east with oil exploration equipment and supplies, 2 with the same manifest but headed for the north sea oil fields; he ignored these; 1 was headed for Hong Kong, another for Yokohama in Japan, another for Seville and the last on the manifest instantly caught his attention, it was going to Miami and looking at the cargo found that it was a luxury yacht owned by an immensely wealthy media tycoon. Jason got all excited, this is the one he said to himself, there's got to be someplace to hide on her. Her name was The Mare Nostrum, even the name was cool he thought. She was expected that same day in the afternoon for basic re-supply and to let off her owner who was going to spend a few days in the UK on business. She was expected to set sail again in two days in the afternoon. He noted her berthing and decided to scout out the area.

He came back that afternoon and watched her dock. She was about 300 feet long and she was beautiful and sleek, pure white with a stream lined shape; she oozed wealth. 3 decks it looked like and had a vast array of radar dishes and antennae.

Later that night, or better said early the next morning as it was 4 AM, he decided to go for it. He had been watching the movements of the crew on deck, especially near the gangway, and there was not much activity any more. He saw the crewman disappear to the other side of the deck and he quickly got up and sprinted for the gangway. He stopped and waited a few seconds. There wasn't a sound coming from on deck so he ran up the gangway on tip toe trying to make as little noise as possible. He got to the main deck and noticed an area in deep shadow and decided to hide there for the time being, he was still in his uniform which of course was predominantly black and grey so he wasn't worried to much about being seen, though his heart was beating like the clappers and he was beginning to wonder whether his heart would burst out of his chest cavity he was so pumped up.

Eventually he managed to build up his courage and he saw a water tight door, he went through and decided that the best place to hide was probably in the holds so he started to make his way down every set of stairs he saw. He found himself in what looked like a supply or cargo bay and making his way between boxes and crates he found an area of about twenty meters square which could only be reached by squeezing between a gap in two crates. He could just about get in therefore he was pretty sure no groan up could.

He set up his things quietly, took off his school uniform, climbed into the sleeping bag and was promptly engulfed in a deep dreamless sleep, all the adrenalin rush and the planning had exhausted him.

He awoke with a start, he was so deeply asleep that he didn't realise where was and strangely the floor seemed to vibrate. Then he remember with a gasp, I've slept for 2 days he realised in amazement, but more importantly, the deck is vibrating, that can only mean that we are moving. He almost let out a shout of joy, we're moving, we're moving and he had to stifle a nervous giggle.

_s_h_i_t_, he thought. I'm bloody hungry now, his stomach was making more noise than the ships engines. He rummaged through his bags but alas, he had nothing to eat. Jason began to feel scared, what if they catch me now? will they turn the ship around and take him back? I don't want to go back he thought to himself and pouted and felt like crying. After about fifteen minutes of indecision he made up his mind to go on a hunt for food, I cant stay here permanently, but where was the bloody galley located on a ship this size? _d_a_m_n_ after all the trouble I've gone through it's the bloody simple stuff that's holding me back ... sniff. Well, I might as well start looking he told himself positively.

He put on his school uniform in a hurry and silently crept out of his hiding place. After half an hour of roaming the quiet ship, it was 3AM according to his watch, he spotted a crewman in white livery carrying a tray of food and steaming coffee in an odd shaped mug, the bottom of the mug was wider than the top. Jason thought that he was bound to have come from the galley. He decided to wait where he was behind a bulkhead, with a little luck he might come back this way with the used plates and mug. After about another hour he heard someone coming and sure enough, it was the same crewman on his way back with the dirty dishes. He followed him from a distance hiding from view where he could and noticed the crewman open a door and disappear behind it. Five minutes later the door opened again and the crewman came out stifling a huge yawn.

Jason waited, he could only hear the thrum of the ships engines and saw nobody coming so he decided to go for it. He slowly crept to the door and put his ear to it. Nothing, he couldn't hear anything. He released a latch and the door opened when he pulled, what he saw would not have been out of place in a huge hotel, it was the biggest kitchen he had ever seen, all shiny stainless steel, everything was spotless and in the far bulkhead were these enormous double doors that looked like enormous refrigerator doors. All thought of stealth left him as his hunger bit hard and he ran to the doors and began yanking on the handles with all his might. _s_h_i_t_, they wouldn't budge. He was getting angry now and grunting with the effort. Tears started to course down his cheeks and he began kicking the door.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Jason froze, his whole body going rigid. He slowly turned around and saw the most enormous man he had ever seen, his head only reached to below his chest and the mans hand covered his whole shoulder. Jason instantly tried to run but the hand held him in place with a vice like grip.

"And what the hell are you doing here boy?" barked the man.

Jason looked up with his mouth agape. "I ... I ... I" but he couldn't get any words out of his mouth coherently.

"Come with me young man" said the giant and began dragging Jason out of the galley. Jason slumped and let his body go limp, he hadn't done that since he was five years old and thrown a tantrum, but no avail so he next kicked the man with all his might with the toe of his shoe right on his shin.

The giant was actually, John Clark, the Chief Bo 'sun, and was called Chief by all the crew. He didn't even flinch, he looked down at the boy and scowled. The next thing Jason knew he was off the ground and held firmly under the chiefs arm like a sack of potatoes. The chief walked over to a foot stool used to reach hard to get items in the galley and put his left foot on top and then upended Jason over his knee in a classic spanking position. Jason arms and legs were a good two feet off the ground and he was effing and blinding all the time, until he felt an all mighty wallop on the seat of his shorts low down on his bottom; the first of two dozen. Jason's shorts were stretched tightly over his bottom and because he wasn't wearing any underwear the blows smarted immediately. He didn't yell, he couldn't, he was in shock, this was the first time anyone had spanked him and all he could do was gasp for air.

The chief looked down at the shorts covered bottom. He had left his hand in the same place it landed and he noticed that his hand covered the boys entire bottom. He raised his hand and bought it down again hard, this time the blow elicited a yelp from the boy as he caught his breath. He held the boy firmly by the waist and Jason couldn't move, even if he wanted to. He gave him the first dozen spanks soundly and slowly letting each swat sink in. By the third spank Jason was yelling blue murder, by the sixth swat he was openly sobbing and by the end of the dozen he was wailing like a five year old, his right hand trying to reach back and protect his burning bottom but he could reach.

The chief change his grip and now pushed the boy further forward by the back of the head, causing Jason's shorts to ride up tightly and exposing the crease of his bottom were the legs joined and where he would later have to sit, uncomfortably to be sure the chief thought. He delivered another dozen very hard swats to the sit upon area and to the bare crease in rapid fire action.

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK.

One cheek then the other, Jason's bottom was one mass burn, he never knew anything could sting so much and he couldn't get a sound out either as his breath caught in his throat, that is until the last spank landed and he slumped over the chiefs knee wailing like a banshee, tears and snot covering his red face. His virgin little bottom was on fire. The chief looked at the red marks below the hem of his shorts and thought to himself that the boy had had enough for the time being. He rubbed the boys bottom briefly noticing that the little brat wasn't wearing any underwear and could feel the heat radiating from his bottom.

He grabbed hold of Jason by the scruff of the neck and hauled him to his feet. Jason started doing the bad boy shuffle, dancing from foot to foot, still crying loudly and trying to squeeze the burning sensation out of his bottom with his right hand thanking God that at least he hadn't had his grey school shorts pulled down, not that it mattered for the second dozen. He couldn't believe that a mere hand spanking could hurt so much. He remembered Benjy's father slippering his little brother Richard on the bare bottom and thought that if that day Richards father had spanked him the same way he would have died.

"Calm down you little tyke" said the Chief somewhat kindly which took Jason aback, he thought that the man was angry with him but when he looked up at the man through blurry tear filled eyes he saw a gentle face looking down at him.

The Chief got down to the boys level and wiped his face with a handkerchief and told him to blow his nose, which Jason happily did.

"Now boy, you are coming with me and if you try any more these antics I guarantee that you will not be able to sit down for a month, is that understood?"

Jason sniffed and hiccuped and replied "Yes Sir" in a very quiet and subdued voice.

The chief held out his hand and Jason placed his in it. Jason noticed that his hand looked like that of an infant compared to this mans huge paws. The chief led a quiet sniffing boy through corridors and up stairs until they reached a door up on the top deck. Still holding the boys hand he opened the door and gently propelled the boy into the bridge.

On the bridge in the Captains chair sat a very distinguished looking gentleman, 45 years old with jet black hair, greying at the temples. He too was a large man, 6'3" but shorter and thinner than the chief you was built like a brick _s_h_i_t_ house. He was wearing a tailored naval uniform and looked rather dashing in navy blue and gold braid.

"What the hell is a boy doing on MY bridge?" bellowed Captain Robert Havelock as he got up from his chair and noticed the chief holding a very scared looking boy by the hand, "He's not yours is he?" he added in a puzzled and calmer voice.

"Er ... no Sir, he's a stowaway, I found him in the galley trying to get the cold store door open"

The chief and the Captain both looked down at the boy and Jason started sobbing again.

"Why is he crying so much Chief, his face is as red as a tomato?"

"You should take a look at his bottom Sir if you want to see red" he gently turned the boy around and the captain could see the red handprints just showing below the hem of the boys school shorts. "He kicked me in the shin when I caught him so I thought Id teach him a little lesson in appropriate behaviour"

"Quite right too Chief"

The Captain thought for a while then because he was still on duty on the bridge he instructed the chief to take the boy to his quarters and stay with him. He would deal with the matter later after his watch which would be over in about half an hour.

"Right you are sir" replied the chief and still holding the boys hand led him away to the Captains quarters, Jason's head bowed looking down at his feet and sobbing all the way.

Jason was very scared indeed now, he didn't want to go back to England, he would probably be placed in a children's home, which to him was like being in a prison. He thought back to his very first spanking over the raised knee of the Chief and was worried about his immediate future. His bottom wasn't as much sore as comfortably warm now. It glowed and tingled and he thought to himself that it felt quite nice, but _d_a_m_n_ it hurt while he was getting his spanking.

The Chief eventually stopped in front of a door, opened it and led Jason through. It was a very comfortable cabin, more like a gentleman's club with teak panelled walls and two Chesterfield couches against the bulkhead, furthest away from the door was a large leather covered desk and above the desk on the bulkhead a picture of HMS Victory firing a broadside at a dastardly French man o war. The chief gently led Jason to the corner of the cabin opposite the captains desk and pressed his nose to the corner.

Jason reached behind him sniffing and rubbed his warm bottom; big mistake, the chief swiftly and firmly administered two hard spanks to the back of each of Jason's bare legs below the hem of his school shorts leaving two overlapping red handprints clearly visible. Jason yelped and started sniffling again.

"Hands on your head boy, and don't you dare touch your bottom again until told to", the chief said sternly, stifling a smile. He walked over to one of the Chesterfield couches and sat down looking at the boy in the corner with hands on his head and bright red handprints at the top of his legs. He smiled and thought that the boy would be perfect to play the part of William Brown in the Just William children's books. He had that mischievous yet angelic face and he wore his school uniform in that scruffy yet loveable way; tie askew, one sock up, the other around his ankle, shoe laces undone, cap on at an angle and his shirt hanging out the side of his school shorts.

Jason was in the corner for about fifteen minutes and his arms were beginning to ache. He couldn't hear a sound in the cabin and thought that maybe the chief had gone to the bathroom or something. He was feeling sorry for himself, and the backs of his legs still smarted from the two spanks each had received, he was dying to rub them, but didn't want a repeat performance. He couldn't really figure out why, but he felt a grudging respect building up for the chief. The man brooked no insolence, misbehaviour or disobedience from him, that's what he had wanted all along wasn't it? he asked himself, but _d_a_m_n_ the smacks had hurt an awful lot, though he supposed that he had deserved them in some way, after all, he had stowed away and he had kicked the man rather hard in the shin, though he hadn't shown it. Jason grinned mischievously, bloody good kick though, and he almost giggled.

He still couldn't hear anything and as is the want of small boys and cats, curiosity got the better of him and he slowly turned around to see if he was alone. John was still sitting on the Chesterfield and saw the boy surreptitiously turning his head from side to side, and then the boy turned around completely.

"Did I tell you to move from the corner boy?"

"Er ... no sir, I'm sorry sir" squealed Jason

"You will be young man, you just cannot do what you're told can you? Do you know what you are boy?

Jason sniffed and looked shamefully at his feet.

"Well? ... No? ... I'll tell you then. You are a very naughty little boy! No wonder boys like you are running riot nowadays, not in my time young man, not in my time."

John got up and walked over to Jason and turned him around so that he was facing the corner again. Jason, still with his hands on his head, felt the chiefs hand raise the hem of his school shorts as far up as it would go exposing the crease of his left bottom cheek. Jason cringed and then the chief spanked him soundly with his hand on the left bare cheek, right on the crease.

SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK.

Jason yelped as the spanks rained down on his bared bottom and his leg came up and down as each spank found its target. He was crying again by the time the sixth swat landed. He then felt the right hem of his shorts being raised and another six spanks rained down on his right cheek on the same place.

SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK.

Once again Jason danced from foot to foot. It stung so much and his bottom, from the crease to the back of his legs felt like they were again on fire.

Jason sobbed unashamedly like the little boy he was, he didn't feel very much like a big twelve year old, not that he was big anyway, he was the smallest boy in the school and often got confused for a ten year old or younger. He felt more like nine year old Richard, what with wearing his very short trousered school uniform, and he didn't want to be taken for a twelve year old either at the moment, he would probably have got a more severe spanking and not necessarily with a hand, he started thinking of slippers and canes though corporal punishment had vanished from schools in the UK before he was even born.

Between sobs Jason told the chief that he was very sorry indeed and pleaded with him not to smack him any more.

"If you're a good little boy and behave like a good boy should, I wont have to spank you again will I?" said the chief patting him on the head and giving him a gentle swat on the seat of his shorts.

"I suppose so sir ... sniff ... sorry sir" replied Jason in a very small voice, sniffling and hiccuping all the time. He really was a very sorry little boy.

(too be continued ...) Please let me know what you think of this story, it is a first attempt at writing a story. Thank you very much for reading it.


More stories byRichard William Parker