In The Navy

My Father had always wanted his sons to go into the Army on leaving school as he and his Father had done. He was there fore appalled when my Brother, Luke announced that he had signed up for the Navy.

My Brother Luke joined the Royal Navy

Relations between them had not been good for years and although my brother was always more of a rebel than me, we had always been under my Father's thumb. The moments of rebellion were easily sorted with a thrashing, so it surprised me as well to learn of his career choice especially as he had not told me about it before hand.

My brother and I were close as children and into adulthood as our Mother had died when we were young. I think we took comfort in each other as we had an uncaring, unloving Father and there was no one else to turn to. Luke was always very protective of me as a boy and on more than one occasion he tried to intervene to prevent me from getting a thrashing. This had resulted in him experiencing my Father's stick as well as me.

When we were younger he would often get into my bed and cuddle into my back during the night, especially if it was a cold winter as we had no central heating in the 1960's and 70's. Later in life after he had joined up, my Father had got rid of his bed from our shared room, and when coming home on leave he would have to sleep on the sofa for a few nights. Quite often he would get into my single bed during the night, saying he was cold and remain there until the early hours. There was not a lot of room with two lads in a single bed but I didn't mind as I found it a comfort and I was still living with my Father's regimes. Luke had at least escaped that tyranny in part.

When I visited Luke in his bedsits and flats, we used to sleep together in his single bed as he had no mattress to put me up on and no chair big enough to stretch out.

The problem with My Father was that he in the Army and saw the Navy as being the poor cousin to the other Services and a bit 'gay'. Whether this was true of not I don't know. I asked my Brother if he was gay at once. He had told me of some of the things he had got up to in the Navy and I thought they were a bit suspect myself. His reply was to laugh and then he went to fetch his kit bag. It was then that he produced a copy of 'Blue Climax' magazine which he gave to me. I took this to mean that he wasn't and that he still loved straight sex. My eye widened when I saw the pictures of men and women having intercourse. I had never seen anything like it before in my life. He warned me that I must keep it well hidden because if my Father found it.......!

I managed this successfully for the next few years until it was discovered. I refused to tell my Father where I had got it from although he must have suspected Luke having been to many foreign countries by this time. He gave me several back handers whilst he was questioning me. I was told I had a dirty disgusting mind and with that he went to fetch his stick.

My Father would cane us over the slightest mistake

I never saw the magazine again although I have many fond memories of its contents and I was lucky enough to find some scans of the pages on the internet.

Incidentally that was the very last time my Father ever beat me. Soon after, I had left home for good.

'Pool Party Pranks' was one of my favourite photo stories from the magazine.

   

  I love the way the women chow down on those big cocks and one guy is sucked off on the edge of the pool. The fashion now is for shaved cunts, but I prefer them natural, less artificial. One of the most horny things about this type of magazine, 'Colour Climax' especially, is the language and the stories. I love the way they convey the characters lust and the dirty talk. It really gets me going and that is something you don't see with modern pornography.

I of course never went into the Army either. My Father took me for an interview and medical when I was 16 with a view to me signing up.

 

My Army medical was not quite like this!

 I also went for a kind of trial weekend trial in Windsor at the barracks there to see how I got on working with the horses. I think my Father wangled it as a kind of favour to him and I spent the weekend mucking out and polishing tack! The thing was I had to sleep in a dormitory on my own with the door locked on the outside so the squaddies couldn't interfere with me during the night!

 

I had to be locked into my dormitory in case of molestation.

I tried to be enthusiastic but I knew I didn't want to do this. I had had enough of regimes, being told what to do and when to do it. I was told when to have my haircut and when to go to bed, when to do my homework and whether I could go out or not.
When my Father received the letter saying they didn't think I was the right material they were looking for, he was not pleased and made my life hell for the next few weeks.

I was keen on sport at school and particularly football. I was considered good enough to play for the school team. This meant going to practice and matches out of school hours which I was keen to do. However, my Father had other ideas and would prevent me from doing this whenever possible, insisting that I came home after school to do my homework and sometimes forbidding me to go out on Saturday mornings to practice depending on his mood. Consequently I was dropped from the first team.

This is where he was full of contradictions. He wanted me to go into the Army for which an interest in sport would have been useful, but he insisted on me studying just to spite me. He wouldn't have ever considered letting me stay at school for A levels, yet he got me to study instead of letting me play football.

I don't think my PE teacher Mr Griffin understood there was a conflict at home. In fact he was a bit of a sadist to some boys. If he had understood and seen my problems, he might have supported me more, even spoken to my Father about my sport, but he didn't.

Once, after I had been beaten I was changing after a games lesson. The red welts were still visible across my backside and I was trying to avoid taking a shower. I didn't want the other boys to see. Mr Griffin realised I hadn't showered and insisted that I get my kit off. When the other boys saw my discomfort it caused much hilarity and great fun was made of my situation. None of this was helped by Mr Griffin who threatened to thrash me himself if I didn't get in those showers pronto!

This was no idle threat as I had in the past been slippered by him for forgetting my PE kit I had to use a spare pair of shorts from a box in his office and do the lesson in my school shirt and shoes.

On another occasion, I was unfairly tackled in a game by one of the boys who constantly made my life a misery, Andrew Hedges. The game was stopped and Mr Griffin having seen what had happened, sent Andrew off to the showers. He complained and called me several names to which I told him to go and multiply! I was also unfairly sent to the showers.

Alone in the changing rooms and amid more abuse from this boy, he went into the showers first and I hung back a bit. When I came out after him he was already partially dressed and as I was drying myself, he flicked my backside with his towel. I saw red and bollock naked, flew at him knocking him to the floor. It was at this point that Mr Griffin arrived and separated us, but it was me that was sent to the Headmaster's office for fighting. If anyone was sent there at all, it usually resulted in a caning but first he had to speak to my Father. This meant phoning him at work and after that had been achieved, I received six strokes. Of course my Father was livid and I received a more severe thrashing when I got home.

I was caned by the Headmaster for fighting