THE BOY SEX CLUB - THE INITIATION CEREMONY

BY DAVEY JENNINGS

A brand spanking new pair of schoolboys short trousers, grey
worsted, 26" waist, 6" inside leg, with a button fly, was brought
from the bedroom next door. They were passed round the assembled
company for inspection. This consisted of about twenty men
ranging in age from seventeen to over fifty.

But in the bedroom, out of sight there were two young boys, one
about twelve, the other a little older named, Peter. They were
preparing for the younger boy's initiation ceremony. Peter had
undergone this initiation two months ago. They were, between
them, selecting the chosen initiation short trousers, for Paul,
the younger boy. The men were there to enjoy the sexual
initiation of a future boy sex slave. He had innocently
volunteered for this after being noticed for his precocious
sexual behaviour in the local cinema. He was, they thought, 'sex
mad', not uncommon in young boys, but rarely in boys of twelve!
He would always go there after school dressed in his school
uniform. This was the usual blazer, school tie, blue and gold
stripes, with matching grey turn-over-top socks. But the fatal
attraction was his short trousers. They looked well used with
careless ink stains and deep creases spreading out from the
crutch, a sight for sore, boy hungry, eyes to focus on. The boy
also knew of their seductive value. All the other boys had gone
into long trousers months ago, but not him. Many men's hands had
slipped nervously up the generously cut legs of those short
trousers, sliding easily, assisted by the smoothness of the white
lining inside, seeking the emerging sexuality of the young boy,
all in the warm concealing darkness of the cinema. Some had been
rewarded with the pre-adolescent juices of a twelve year old boy,
delivered into their caressing hands, whilst others had to leave
prematurely with the insides of their jeans or trousers sticky
and creamed, unable to cope with the excitement of the experience
of exploring smooth legs and a slim but firm erection inside
those provocative short trousers.

Those men, the early scouts for the Boy Slave Club, were now in
the mood and looking forward to to getting their own back for
those weeks of frustration when the boy had enticed them, then
toyed with their sexual emotions. They passed the short trousers
round, each one examining them to check that they were new and
virgin. Some smelt or even tentatively tasted the white lined
crutch to make sure that they were indeed brand new. Others would
slip their hands into the side pockets, thinking about what they
would feel the next time their hands explored this access to the
boy. The group were in various stages of sexual excitement, and
it was difficult for one man to resist wiping the lining against
his spunk stained bulging fly or even some of them over their
spunk brimming balls. This of course wasn't allowed but nobody
complained, they didn't want to hold up the proceedings.

Now it was time to start. In the middle of the room was a narrow
table covered with a black velvet cloth. The men formed a circle
round it. The master of ceremonies left to bring in the boy.
After a few minutes he returned with him and led him to the
centre of the room. The boy was slender with dark curly hair and
brown limpid eyes. He blinked in the spotlights, which were
trained on the table. Everyone wanted to get a good look at him.
The boy looked about him. His eyes, wide with excitement but with
a mounting sense of fear, he noticed, on the wall in the
background a wooden frame with coils of rope tied round the
uprights and hanging from the top beam.

How, he wondered, had his enjoyable, innocent, sexual adventures
in the cinema led to this. But now he thought he might have gone
too far. He was only used to coping with one man at a time. He
couldn't believe what he saw now. "THE BOY INITIATION CLUB." They
were gathered around him. They were an awe inspiring sight.
Everyone of them displayed in some way their sexual aggression.
The boy could hardly believe his eyes. He first noticed that
nearly all the men were in shorts of some kind or other. The
spotlights were positioned so that he could only see the Masters
from the waist down. His eyes were drawn to one pair immediately.
Navy blue corduroy, the same as he was wearing. What fascinated
him about them was the huge spunk stains covering the area round
the fly and crutch. The streams of spunk marks from the bottom of
the fly to the hem of the shorts legs seemed evidence of some
previous sexual extravaganza, if only he could afford to get his
own in that state how pleased he would be! He was drawn to look
at them because of some un-admitted sexual fantasy that the man
may have enjoyed with his own shorts as a boy. He also noticed
that two of the fly buttons were bulging open, forced by the
pressure from the erection inside, clearly visible and aroused by
anticipation of the forthcoming events.

He now felt very vulnerable. All the men were in a high state of
sexual arousal. In spite of being grown up, a lot of the men were
wearing full school uniforms, with schoolboy's grey short
trousers, which all suffered from a straining at their flies, or
large erections bulging down their legs. The short trousers' legs
he noticed were quite wide and loose, no doubt a hankering after
re-living those exciting schooldays with secret groping sessions
at the back of the class, under the desk, or behind the bike
sheds, where trembling slim young hands slipped up into the
forbidden insides of the enticing short trousers, to explore the
private, hidden, treasures and proffered pleasures inside. But
now he was about to see how these sex animals would re-enact
those early sexual passions.

The M.C. indicated to two men. They approached the boy and one
knelt in front of him. The second standing behind him and
restraining his arms, whispered to him to relax as he reached
forward and started to unbuckle the clasp of his snake belt. The
second, his face illegally close to the shorts fly, was no doubt
sneaking a scent of his erotic boyhood emanating from his short
trousers, began to slowly unbutton them, one fly button at a
time. They were not so much undone, as tugged and pulled apart as
if the man wanted to rip them off. To the boy it seemed to take
an age, to get him out of his short trousers, but that was
probably because he was not used to four hands paying attention
to him, and touching and lingering over them so smoothly. The
belt was slid effortlessly from the short's belt loops. It was
passed back for safe keeping. It would have to be kept for the
boy to return with after the weekend.

Now his short trousers were being tugged down, he wore no
underpants as this was the club rule, for both Masters and
slaves. This didn't bother him as he had given up wearing them a
long time ago so as to make it easier for men to feel up and get
at what they wanted, inside his short trousers, in the cinema, or
where- ever. With his short trousers now halfway down his legs
the man kneeling in front of him paused. He opened up the insides
of them and impulsively pushed the white lined crutch up into his
face, and tasted the forbidden interior of the initiate's
innocent short trousers. The boy, looking down, felt a bit more
relaxed, that's exactly what he liked to do to them, in calmer
times. But that was only a pause in the proceedings. The rest of
the mob were restless to continue with the ceremony and hissed at
the assistants to get on with it.

The boy's navy blue corduroy short trousers were handed around
the same way as the snake belt. As they passed back to the boy's
bedroom each man took his pleasure of them. Some just fondling
the insides, caressing the white lining, one, feeling into the
side pockets, let out a sigh of pleasure when he discovered that
the left hand pocket had been cut out. They were finally
deposited on his bed, by now virtually inside-out, with the white
lining, or almost white lining; because they were clearly showing
areas of yellow piss and stiff cum stains, which the assembled
company, on their journey round, had identified, with pleasure,
correctly. But covertous eyes noted where they rested, perhaps if
they could be laundered over the week-end who knows how they
could be treated and enjoyed, privately, a bit later? There was
nothing like a pair of used boy's short trousers to fully explore
and get one's head into.

His school pullover, school tie, and socks were quickly removed,
although his grey shirt stayed on and the black shoes kept to one
side. The socks and pullover were replaced with ones in the club
colours, blue and gold vee neck and matching turn- over-top
socks. While this was happening the men were able to inspect from
a distance the boy's equipment. They liked what they saw. The
boy's penis was a good size, even flaccid, and circumsized,
although this was not to everyone's taste it did please those who
enjoyed long sucking sessions. He had as yet no pubic hair which
also made him immensely attractive to many members. The balls
were surprisingly large for a twelve year old no doubt due to a
couple of years practice in the cinema and town toilets. He
proudly admitted that he started when he was ten, but only
playing about and never allowing anyone to fuck him.

Now the initiation short trousers were brought forward and held
open for the boy to step into. He looked down at them and
wondered what suffering they were to bring him. They seemed to be
standard school uniform type, light grey, button fly, belt loops,
inside leg about six inches, and with a white cotton lining.
Virgin white he thought like him and how will they end up at the
end of the night? He stepped into them and the men pulled them
up, they fitted perfectly although the legs, like the shorts on
most of the men, were quite wide. It wouldn't be long before he
was to discover why. The man behind him threaded a new belt
through the loops and did up the snake clasp. This would be his
initiation belt, gold and blue stripes, it would prove that he
had been through the ceremony and he would have to wear it
whenever he came to meetings in the future, along with the rest
of the uniform. But he could also wear the belt outside and any
member of the club who he might meet, accidentally, would
recognise him as a club slave. It would signify to them that they
could use him as their slave in any way that took their fancy to
satisfy their sexual lust for boys.

The room now went quiet as a small red leather bound box was
produced and handed to the MC. Meanwhile the man in the leather
shorts leant forward to thrust his hands into the side pockets of
the boy's short trousers. He lingered a bit too long inside those
pockets, feeling the as yet forbidden fruit and he was urged to
get on with it. He jerked out the pockets with a flourish pulling
out the white cotton interiors which he held fully extended. The
MC opened the red box and from it he took a small silver scalpel.
The boy s pockets were tightly stretched apart and with one quick
movement he slashed one of the pockets off as close to the top as
possible. A cheer went up. The men had just witnessed the first
symbolic act of the victim's deflowering. The next pocket
followed shortly after, just pausing long enough to throw the
first mutilated pocket to the room. There was, naturally, a
fierce scramble for it, it was after all a trophy from the
ceremony.

The second one followed the first into the randy mob. The
remnants of the pockets were pushed back into his short trousers,
and again there were complaints that the man took too long as he
tried to roam around the insides of them, this time with a little
more success as there was no pocket in the way, only the lining.
He was jeered at to withdraw, even though they were really
enjoying the sight of the shorts being seduced, but they wanted
to get on.

Practically all of them had cum at least once by now and the
smell of fresh spunk was beginning to fill the room. The boy
could smell it also and he too was becoming impatient to get it
over with. The lederhosen man knew it was going to be a good
night; he had just felt the boy's hard cock through the short
trousers' lining!

Now they were ready to proceed to the next part of the ceremony.
The boy's legs were raised up over his head and held down at the
ankles by the lederhosen man. All eyes were now focused on the
tightly stretched back seam, running between the boy's nicely
rounded cheeks, shaping the short trousers to perfection. The
stitches were straining under the pressure and looked fit to
split. The MC, with one hand located the centre of the boy's neat
cheeks and positioned the sharp blade of the scalpel over it, he
paused and asked the members if they were ready, "NOW' they
roared back, "NOW" and with that he carefully applied the sharp
edge to the stitching and made a small incision. Two or three
stitches burst apart. He then inserted his middle finger into the
hole and pulled apart a few more stitches, making a ripping sound
clearly heard above the heavy breathing of the men. He handed
back the scalpel, its work was nearly finished, the rest, on the
outside, would be done by hand. He pushed in the middle finger of
the other hand and pulled the slit apart enlarging it to about an
inch. The white cotton lining was now visible behind the grey
worsted, however the stitches were on the inside! Accordingly the
boy was helped off the table and stood in front of it with his
legs forced wide apart. The MC knelt down behind him and taking
up the scalpel, covering the blade between thumb and forefinger
slipped it up the right leg of the boy's short trousers as his
other hand slipped up the left leg and pulled them back so that
the slit opened up showing the white lining once again. Just one
reason, perhaps, for the shorts to have wide legs?

After a short pause he again called to the club-members "should
he proceed?" "YES" they roared back "NOW". Then with one movement
he slashed the blade through the white lining of the short
trousers. The men cheered as the blade gleamed from the arse seam
of them, and was pulled through. The short trousers were now
ready for their first customer!

The boy looked round wondering who it would be? His eyes
travelled round the members, looking below waist level hoping it
wouldn't be one of the biggest for the first time. Almost all of
them had come and most of the shorts and short trousers were
glistening with spunk either on the front fly or down the legs or
on the back, it seemed that the favourite thing to do was to come
over someone else's. He saw that the man in the navy blue
corduroy shorts had already cum inside them and fresh spunk was
flowing down from the waistband and over the already white
spunked stained fly, the man who had wanked him was still working
on him and was rubbing the cum into his corduroy fly and also
collecting some which he wiped over the front of his own grey
short trousers, and he in turn was being wanked through the side
pockets of them by the man behind him, also wearing grey short
trousers. If they were all cuming like this, he thought, there
wouldn't be enough left for him. How he was to under-estimate the
mens' sexual appetite! They had saved their spunk for weeks in
anticipation of this night. He felt less nervous now that the
scalpel was put away. He had also been promised that he would be
broken in gently.

He had also been told that he would be introduced to his masters,
in turn, before they started on him, but he wasn't prepared for
the first one. Into the circle to stand in front of him with his
hand held out was the boy who had helped him choose his short
trousers at the beginning of the evening, Peter. But he was a Boy
Slave also, he had only had his initiation a couple of months
ago? The older boy smiled at him and shook him by the hand. He
explained to him that the tradition was that the last boy to be
initiated was the first one to have the next slave. That was why
he was not wearing his club belt, but his scout one to show that
he was not available that night. It would only happen that once
and after that he could only be a master when he had recruited
enough boys to keep the numbers of the pack up. It was ironic
that when Peter had picked him up in the cinema he must have
known that he would have him one day.

As Peter was explaining this, his hands were playing inside his
own grey short trousers and working on a growing erection pushing
down the left leg. He went on to say that it was a good idea too
as a young boy's erection was usually quite slim and not so
likely to hurt too much for the first time. He would be OK this
first night also because the MC had the veto on any erections
that were considered too big. The owners could still have their
way with him in other ways but could not penetrate him. He began,
also, to wonder, looking down at how much Peter's short's leg was
now sticking out, just exactly how slim his prick was. They had
had mutual wanking sessions together and he remembered being
quite impressed with its size but it was all relative he
supposed. He glanced down at the boy's shorts again and could see
the boy caressing himself with long slow stokes down inside the
leg which was bulging out the grey worsted material riding up and
showing glimpses of the white lining inside. It seemed as if the
boy was showing off and deliberately taking his time. Peter
smiled and told him that all the others were restricted to five
minutes that night but he could have as long as he liked. He then
told the MC that he was ready. It was necessary to tell the MC
what you wanted to do so that the boy could be prepared, put in
the right position, on his back or bent over, for example.

Accordingly the boy was made ready. Two young slaves stepped
forward and kneeling down, one held his ankles, this was to stop
the boy moving under the thrust of some of the more powerful men.
The other's job was to lubricate the stiff pricks both before
entry and during the intercourse. This he did by filling his hand
with KY jelly and reaching up inside the boy's short trousers'
legs would hold round the rod as it pumped in and out of the boy.
As this was considered the best job they swapped round for each
new master. Peter moved round to the back of the boy and nodded
to the MC, that he was ready. The man in the leather shorts
pulled Paul's arms towards him so roughly that he gasped for
breath. He he was now bent over the table with his face pushed
into the still sticky spunk soaked leather shorts in front of
him. He felt his ankles being held.

All was silent, except for the heavy breathing of the men, and
the rustling of material as straining pricks were massaged. Paul
felt a hand slipping up the back of his short trouser s leg and
then a cool finger pushing jelly into his arse. He then heard the
fly buttons of the Peter's short trousers rip open as he tore
them open from the top in one movement. The men loved the sight
of the open shorts, two white Vee's of lining from the base of
which sprang a fairly slim uncircumcised prick, about five inches
in length they estimated. The red crown was already pushed out
and glistened in the lights, the slave covered it with jelly.
Then carefully placing his knees against the back of Paul's he
pushed himself onto him, his hands sliding into the boy's short
trousers pockets, he noticed with interest that the boy had a
good hard erection inside there. The slave positioned Peter's
glowing tip exactly on the centre of the boy's anus. A short
pause and then without warning he thrust forward and at the same
time with his hands pulled Paul back by his pelvis hard onto him.
The boy let out a cry of pain as his sphincter muscles were
penetrated in one sharp movement. His body heaved as he struggled
for breath.

There was for a second or two silence them a cheer went up as
many of the audience climaxed once more at the witness of this
deflowering. Some spurts of their spunk shooting over the boy's
pullover and some even landing on the seat of his short trousers.
The man holding the boy's head was moaning with pleasure as his
spunk erupted over the top and sides of his leather fall front
fly and ran down over the head of the boy, white against his dark
curly hair. He hadn't even wanked himself it was just the
pressure against the boy's head that had caused his spontaneous
ejaculation. Then silence once more, Peter did not move for a
bit, he would wait a few moments for the young one to recover. He
felt around inside the shorts pockets and the erection had
collapsed. He began to caress the limp prick, he would wait for
it to get hard again before he continued, after all he had plenty
of time. The boy was calming down now and the first searing shot
of pain was cooling down to be replaced with a warmer feeling. So
that was it he thought, no longer a virgin. He felt the older
boy's hands gently rubbing his prick through his short trousers
pockets and felt the stirring of another erection from deep
inside him, and as it rose Peter began to gently and slowly move.

Peter withdrew his prick to almost it's full length passing over
the greased hands of the slave and then pushed forward to return
but almost if in slow motion, it is glistening length
disappearing into the depths of the boy, until the base and the
top of his still fluffy young testicles were hard up against the
grey worsted seat of the Paul's short trousers This time the
victim felt a different sensation, deeper in his thighs and
tingling. His erection was now fully recovered and everyone could
see it pushing down the legs of his short trousers, the watchers
were drooling in anticipation as one of the sitting slaves turned
up the leg of Paul s short's so that they could see the tip, hot
and red, contrasting against the cool white lining inside.

Peter now settled down to a long slow fuck, his slim prick
working in and out steadily. The opening in the back seam fitted
his erection perfectly the top and bottom ripped stitches just
closing above and below it. As he thrust forward the grey worsted
was pushed in and when he pulled out the white lining came out,
clinging to his wet prick. The shorts were starting to show a
dark damp stain spreading from the centre of seam.

He continued for about another two or three minutes and in spite
of having unlimited time he began to feel his spunk rising from
deep inside his loins he tried to hold it back but the boy was
being evil, he was pushing himself back onto it as he thrust it
forwards. He was obviously starting to enjoy it! Not only that
the slave's hand was gripping his prick more tightly with each
jerk in and out. But what he didn't know was that boy was being
pushed back by the man in front by forcing his spunk soaked
leather fly into the boy's mouth in time with the fucking.
Everything began to speed up, the prick pounding faster into the
boy, his pelvis held firmly through his short trousers pockets
causing the light grey worsted legs to jerk up and down as if
they had a life of their own. The tip of Paul's erection was now
oozing with pre-cum juices running down his smooth hairless
thigh. The men saw this and shouted out to the Peter that the boy
was soon coming. This had the desired effect and with an almighty
thrust, which almost took the boy off his feet he pumped his load
into him, at one point pulling so far out that a jet of his young
fresh white spunk shot all over the back of Paul's already spunk
wet short trousers, and in the next thrust half of this was
transferred to the exposed white lining of his own shorts. And
now a big cheer went up as the members saw the Paul's spunk
shooting out from the just visible crown of his prick poking out
from his short trousers, running down his smooth, slim, tanned
legs, and shooting out, falling onto the slaves' grey shorts
below, where they were squatted, one trying to hold him firm, the
other with both hands, filled with jelly, still up each leg of
his short trousers, squeezing the older boy's pumping prick as
hard as he could with his small hands.

Then suddenly it was all over. The prick was withdrawn, still
very erect, and with a long slime of spunk hanging from the end.
The initiated slave, Paul, was now stood up for all to see. He
looked exhausted already, and the night had only just begun! His
cum was running down his left leg and over the top of his sock,
there were spots of it shining on his black shoes. Peter came
round to the front of him, his short trousers still opened, the
light grey material round the fly was now dark with a mixture of
KY jelly, sweat and spunk, the white lining was shining with cum.
He hugged the *boy and kissed him full on the lips, tasting as he
did so, the spunk from the leather shorts. Then he whispered into
his ear, playfully rubbing in the globs of cum into his hair. He
told him that he had to do it the violent way that he did to keep
the pain as short as possible, and feeling down to the crutch of
Paul's short trousers gave him a squeeze and said he would make
it up to him the next day.

But there was no let-up. The hungry men wanted their turn. The
first to step forward was someone dressed as a Scoutmaster. Khaki
shirt with two flap front pockets and all the correct badges, a
troop scarf with a woven leather woggle and white lanyard, brown
leather belt with scout clasp, long woollen khaki socks with
green garter tabs, black leather shoes and finally but by no
means least thick ribbed, heavy khaki coloured corduroy shorts.
The shorts bulged obscenely down the left leg with what seemed to
be a truly massive prick, although the corduroy was so thick and
stiff that the legs of the shorts stood wide from his powerful
thighs anyway, they seemed to be indestructible and yet at the
same time so soft. The boy's heart sank, so soon after my first
time I'm going to have to take that, he thought. The corduroy
shorts were deeply creased from the bottom of the fly, running
out to the hem of the legs and the side seams, they had obviously
seen a lot of wear, but also the ridges of the creases were quite
dirty as if they hadn't been washed in years. They also had a
wide fly, the stitching at least two inches wide, covering four
fly buttons, the shape of them showing through even that thick
corduroy! ' Skip stood in front of him and said something to the
MC. The boy was mesmerised by those shorts they looked so
threatening. Then he noticed something strange, they must have
been the only shorts in the room that weren't wet with spunk.

The MC lent closer to the boy and told him that Skip was on the
forbidden list as he was too big to penetrate him at this stage
in his development, and that he would have to suck him off. The
boy felt a wave of relief at the news, he would do that gladly,
after all he had being doing that since he was just turned
eleven. Just one other thing though, Skip wanted him to change
into Boy Scout uniform. Skip took his hand and led him into the
bedroom, the same one where the evening had started. He closed
the door behind them and from a small holdall produced the
uniform. Paul could hardly believe that it was only an hour ago
that he was innocently in that room with Peter enjoying trying on
a variety of short trousers for the initiation ceremony. He also
saw that that was where his navy corduroy school short trousers
had ended up. They were on the bed virtually inside out the white
lining thrust up from the crutch and the legs splayed apart, and
what was more the lining was soaking with spunk. Those randy men
had used them as a sponge to cum into, even though he had to go
home in them after the weekend, (goodness, he thought, was it
still only Friday evening!) Whilst Skip was busy undressing him
he picked them up to see the extent of the damage. It was worse
than he thought at least two people had come over the outside of
the corduroy, one all over the front and the other all over the
seat, although it only showed as a dark patch but he knew from
painful experience that it would dry white and hard on the
corduroy material and would not come off without washing. The
'painful experience' was that only two months before he had been
spanked in those very same short trousers for 'misbehaving' when
his stepfather had seen similar stains. He had protested that it
was ice cream but to no avail, his stepfather knew of course!

Whilst he was lost in this thought Skip was taking off his
pullover and tie and then his shirt. Next down to his shoes and
socks then lastly his short trousers, undoing the belt
unhurriedly followed by the fly buttons, one by one from the top.
The boy wondered if Skip would get finished in time as he had
only a limit of five minutes, still that wasn't his problem! Paul
looked down at Skip who was sitting on the edge of the bed and he
was still fascinated by those corduroy shorts in the better light
his eyes were immediately drawn to the crutch. All those creases
came from there, spreading out down the legs and up past the fly
to the outside of the legs. Wherever you looked at the shorts you
were drawn by those creases back to the crutch where the ridges
of corduroy met from four sides of the shorts. From the front and
back of each leg and forming a diamond right at the centre,
behind which he visualised the brimming full balls he was soon to
make the acquaintance of! By now Skip had slipped his short
trousers down to his ankles and he stepped out of them, his feet
pulling the lining out. Skip lifted them up and looked at the
white lined crutch. It was soaking with the drained out spunk
from Peter and Skip remarked that I must have enjoyed it as there
was so much cum there and he vowed to get the boy on his list as
soon as possible! Skip then pushed his mouth onto the spunk and
tasted it with relish. It was then the boy realised that
sometimes the boy slaves were not always required just for
fucking but sometimes might have to fuck their masters or even
get sucked off themselves.

Then out came the Boy Scout uniform but it wasn't the usual khaki
type it was a Sea Scout uniform. Skip pulled the Navy woollen
jersey over Paul's head followed by the scarf, woggle and
lanyard, then up with the navy socks with green garter tabs. Next
the blue melton shorts, unlined he noticed, but then he couldn't
have everything! As Skip did up the fly buttons his hands were
all over the place, running over the seat of the shorts, and up
inside of them. The effect was soon obvious to Skip who hands
gently squeezed the boy's growing erection. Then whilst enjoying
the feeling a thought occurred to Paul and he asked Skip if he
was just dressed up or was he a real Scoutmaster. The answer came
in the form of an invitation for him to come to a troop meeting,
the next was on the following Wednesday, and if he liked to come
round to his house before then he could fix him up with a
complete uniform. He also told him that he would have a good time
in his troop as all the boys enjoyed fun and games, especially at
camp. Paul said that he would think about it and they left it at
that.

Then he was ready and Skip took his hand and led him back into
the centre of operations. The table had been moved to one side
and in it's place was, on the floor, a soft cushion. He was led
to it and pushed down onto his knees. The Scoutmaster stood in
front of him legs wide apart, the wide fly of his corduroy shorts
just inches from Paul's face, and his hands clasped behind him in
the 'at ease' position. The boy was ordered to pleasure the
Scoutmaster's erection which was straining down the left leg of
the thick corduroy pushing it out so that the bottom of the
shorts leg was a good four inches proud of his hairy thigh,
plenty of room for a slim young Sea Scout's hand to slip up and
hold round the massive prick. The 'boy had learned a thing or two
in the two years he had been giving men pleasure. He didn't hurry
and let his hands progress slowly, the tips of his fingers first
playing around the hem of the shorts legs, and then creeping up
inside them. He felt the heat on his face coming from the short's
bulging leg.

His face was now pressed onto the swollen shorts leg and he could
smell a warm mixture of pungent piss and sweet spunk. Paul rolled
up the leg of the shorts, the corduroy hem a good two inches deep
inside the shorts leg. He opened his mouth and closed his lips
over the head of the erection now protruding a good four two
inches below the leg just where the stitching can be seen inside
unlined shorts where the hem is. But his tongue also tasted the
rough inside of the corduroy. It tasted bitter, an acquired taste
he thought, so he shifted his attention to the thick, wide fly.
He pulled back the fly flap to get at the buttons. He saw that
the stitching separating each button had been cut away so that
under the flap he could see all four buttons at once, he also saw
the heavy spunk stains running down the whole length inside of
the fly flap. His nimble fingers undid the buttons easily, not
that they needed much persuasion, hundreds of openings and
closings had made them loose and pliable. He slipped them open
from the bottom up until they were gaping wide.

Hot sweaty, spunk tainted air flowed out into the boy's face. He
pressed his face to the shorts and felt the hard fly buttons
against his cheeks. His hands were now working to get Skip's
prick out, one hand reaching inside the fly, the other trying to
push it out from the inside but he was restrained by Skip who
lowered his shorts a few inches and pushed the boy's head right
down inside them. The boy was surprised to see that inside the
shorts were thick with cum, sticky and heavily smeared behind the
fly and over the thick triple patch of the crutch, which covered
the place where the four seams met, then running down the inside
of each leg. "Clean them up" he was ordered by Skip. He started
behind the fly, licking up all the slimy spunk. He could taste at
least three different cums. Then with his hands he pushed up the
crutch and legs from the outside. It tasted sweet and fresh. And
his mouth and lips were smeared with white sticky spunk and
although he swallowed as much as he could he was spreading it
around the inside of the shorts as much as anything else.

The reason he hadn't noticed the evidence of the spunk was simply
that the corduroy was so thick that it wasn't able to get through
the material. He hungrily finished off his job, and thinking that
time must really be running out, (he didn't want to get blamed
for not completing his task) he now tried to pull out the
Scoutmasters massive tool from those gaping fly buttons but
without success. He reached up and tried to undo his belt but was
stopped and his head guided down to the bottom leg of the shorts.
He rolled up the hem again to show the dripping red tip of the
prick, it was pushed into his mouth and it hardly got to his
throat when it started to pump out the contents of those big
balls. The boy's mouth soon filled up and his swallowing couldn't
keep up and it soon overflowed from his lips onto the rough
inside of the corduroy as well as on the coarse ribbed outside,
and down his chin and neck onto his navy jersey. It was no
surprise that the Scoutmaster didn't worry about the lack time,
he knew he could come in seconds once the boy's mouth was over
his helmet. Having finished he drew the boy's face up and told
him to kiss the wide fly of his shorts. This the boy did and at
the same time spat out all the spunk in his mouth over the shorts
fly, he wanted to get his own back for the state they had made on
his navy cord short trousers. He also noted with pleasure that
large dollops of spunk had dribbled from between his lips and
landed on the his own short's navy melton legs. He knew how
difficult that was going to be to get off.

Next please, called the MC. A young man stepped forward, dressed
in school uniform, grey shirt, tie pullover etc., but there was a
difference. His grey short trousers were turned inside out. The
white lining was on the outside, well hardly white large patches
of stiff yellow stains were clearly visible and the, by now,
usual glistening fresh spunk stains, but those on his lining were
still steaming, they had just been deposited all over the back of
the fly.

He ordered the boy to follow him to the bedroom to change back
into his school uniform. He helped him out of his Sea Scout gear,
and casually spread the spunk which had landed on the legs of the
navy shorts over the white lining of his own, mixing it with what
was already steaming away, commenting at the same time that it
was a pity to waste it. This had the effect of making the spunk
smear over both legs of Skip's Melton shorts. Skip would have
even more trouble getting that off! The man explained that he
wore his short trousers inside out because he didn't want spunk
stains on the outside, on the grey worsted as he wore them out
when cycling etc. He was meanwhile dressing Paul, spending a
little time checking his short trousers inside. The lining of the
crutch was now stuck together with the drying spunk and he said
that it was just right as his prick would pull it apart.

Then Paul knew that he was in for another fucking, and looking at
the bulging white lining of the man's shorts leg and knew that it
was going to be worse than with Peter. The man who was now
kneeling before him stood up and gave him a firm pat on the
bottom and told him he was ready. It struck Paul that they all
wanted to get him alone for a little while in spite of losing
part of their precious time with him. He was right of course they
liked the idea of preparing the boy for themselves.

He was led back and again pushed over the edge of the table. The
same procedure as with Peter. The slaves hands held his ankles
and slid up inside the back of his short trouser legs with the
lubricating jelly, as the man entered the split rear of them. The
room was silent as they waited for the thrust. The man pushed his
hands down into the boy's pockets and pulling him onto him slowly
inserted his shining helmet into the short trousers. Then there
was a snag, the slit was not wide enough to take the rest of his
erection. It had been just right for Peter's slim prick but this
one was much bigger and wider in the shaft. The men cheered him
on and waited as the man pulled back then lunged forward his
thick shaft forcing open more stitches, with a loud ripping
sound, and sinking deep into the boy. Another gasp from Paul as
he felt it's full length but it didn't seem as bad as before,
perhaps the forcing of the seam had slowed it down or his
sphincter was more relaxed, but whatever he was more able to cope
with the man's steady rhythm.

The man in leather shorts who had been in front holding his head
had been replaced by the scoutmaster in the corduroy shorts. He
was busy forcing Paul's mouth behind the flap of his fly buttons,
it was more like a trough filled with spunk. Since Paul had spat
the man's spunk all over the thick corduroy fly he had been busy
filling up the trough of that fly again, and now all the buttons
were covered in cum. He ordered him to suck them dry, starting
with the bottom one and working up to the top one, four in all,
and to finish doing it before the man behind finished. Paul
licked and swallowed desperately and as his body was jerked to
and fro the spunk ran in sticky streams from the corduroy fly to
his lips, the thread often breaking and falling onto the legs and
crutch, which was already in quite a state. The spunk on the
white lining of the man's grey short trousers was sticking to
Paul's grey worsted short's bottom and each time he lunged in and
out similar silvery threads of spunk would be pulled apart and
closed together again making a growing sticky mess. Then quite
suddenly he came and with the usual applause pulled it out, still
dripping which he then wiped onto his already soaked white
lining. Paul remembered, "pity to waste it!", that the man had
said earlier.

Paul tried to stand up but was kept held down. Another man was
already there, waiting. He had been kneeling behind the last one
as he was fucking Paul and had been smelling and sucking the
white lining of the arse seam of the man's inside out short
trousers. He was another one of the forbidden ones too big to
safely enter Paul, so he had to do something else.

Without a pause he knelt down behind the boy and sliding his
hands up the back of each leg of his short trousers pressed his
face to the spunk slippery rear slit, and pulling it apart with
his fingers he pushed his tongue inside, tasting the salty
mixture of two spunks. But he was after more and the tip of his
long tongue tickled the boy's pink rosebud. Paul had never felt a
sensation like this before and in seconds his prick rose up
inside the front of his shorts fly, much to the delight of the
crowd most of whom were still waiting for their turn, and to see
the boy still able to be aroused was indeed good news. The man's
tongue was now fully into the boy's rectum and Paul felt his
spunk rising, the man sensing this withdrew his tongue, stood up
and pushed his enormous prick which he had been wanking
furiously, into the wet slit. As he did so the members shouted
for him to stop, he wasn't allowed. But they needn't have worried
because he pulled the boy up and back onto him for all to see
that his hard rod was actually under the boy's crutch and pushing
out the front of his short trousers like they would split or
burst open the fly buttons. Then feeling forward into the shorts'
pockets grasped his own prick with Paul's and started to wank
them together. Both pricks were now staining up behind the fly
and the fly buttons bulged with the strain rising rapidly up and
down, indeed as the whole of the short trousers were. The lining
was stretched to splitting filled as it was with the large hairy
hands of the man's frantic double masturbation. Again more
stitches were heard to rip open, from the ever suffering back
seam as he had stood up (to more cheers). They were hoping to see
the fly buttons rip open their buttonholes.

They were not disappointed, as the man approached his climax and
the short trousers were flaying about the second button from the
top burst open and they could see the two heads of the erections,
gleaming inside the shorts, the man's under the boy's. Urged on
by the shouts from the crowd the man began his climax. The first
jet of spunk came straight out in an arc and landed across the
table on the fly of a pair of quite unmarked navy serge shorts,
worn by the man who had replaced Skip. He seemed annoyed by this
as he took pride in how neat and clean he kept them, at least the
outside, but he left it there, a large silver pearl which slowly
started running down the dark legs, he knew it wouldn't be long
before he would be getting his own back. The rest of the cum kept
flowing and covered Paul's prick, so that it was difficult to
tell whether he had come or not there was so much of it about!
One lovely jet spurted out from the top of the waistband and shot
up landing on, Paul's grey pullover, leaving a white line from
the blue and gold base of the Vee neck to the rings round the
bottom. But most of it filled the boy's short trousers and
soaking through the lining and the grey worsted began to make a
dark stain which started just below the waistband. The man, now
finished after a good thirty,, seconds of shooting pulled out
from the back of the short trousers and wiped the wet head of his
dying erection on their spunk wet arse.

Paul asked for another drink of water, which he drank slowly,
hoping to cool down. As he stood there the assembled company
watched his short trousers changing colour. The spunk already
oozing through first the lining, then the grey worsted started to
run all the way down from the top, either side of the fly to the
crutch and then started down both legs. The change from light
grey to dark grey marking it's progress. The fly remained
relatively clean but that was because there were about four
layers of material for it to soak through, but it would
eventually. The process would be aided by the spunk which had
already soaked into the shorts from various other people.
The next half hour was taken by what can only be described as a
school party. Six men in full and matching school uniform, with
the;, essential grey short trousers, took their turn, queuing
behind each other as if they were in the school dinning room, and
joking and laughing with each other as the 'boy' at the head of
the queue was enjoying his fuck. Four of them had their
satisfaction in quick succession, taking only a couple of minutes
each. Paul's short trousers were now in a disgraceful state,
spunk was everywhere. The grey worsted arse was totally covered
in layers of thick white spunk and the rear slit edged with a
froth of spunk which ran down the legs. The hem of the legs were
dripping spunk onto the boy's socks and shoes part of this spunk
came from the outside of them but a lot came from the crotch
inside draining from the spunk over-full anus and running down
the inside legs.

Now the last two of the 'class' stepped forward and indicated to
the two young slaves that they wanted the boy in a different
position. The slaves were originally employed to hold the boy and
to lubricate the thrusting rods of the masters, but were
redundant in those tasks because no jelly was now needed with so
much natural stuff around and also because Paul had learned how
to cope with the heavy thrusts. They raised him up, turned him
round, gave him another drink of water and laid him on his back
across the table. The last two men in the 'class' came to the
edge of the table and they stood, with legs apart and each of
their short trousered crutches over the boy's knees. Paul was now
numb and hardly cared what they were going to do. The men opened
up their fly buttons and culled out their huge erections. They
were also victims of the M.C's ruling. As if in time they reached
down to pull the legs of Paul's short trousers over their pricks,
pushing the, red, creaming, crowns up inside them. The inside leg
of the short trousers were 6 inches and their pricks were at
least two inches longer and as they wanted to get past the crutch
they both turned up the hem of the legs, showing a sexy band of
white lining holding round their pricks and in close contact with
their fly buttons. They adjusted, together, the position of their
pricks. They had decided to cum inside Paul's shorts, where the
slaves could assist them. The slaves both put their hands into
the side pockets of Paul's shorts, but of course as the pockets
had been removed they were in immediate contact, via the lining,
with the hot pricks. Then the 'boys' started to fuck Paul's short
trousers, there can be no better way to describe what they were
doing.

Their hands were holding the hem of the short trousers legs
firmly down over Paul's thighs, tight over their rhythmic, in
tune, pulsating pricks. It didn't take them long to near their
climax, the sight of the boy's shorts being distended with their
pumping pricks and about to receive their charges of cum was
enough to urge them on. After about two minutes they both shot
their load together as if they had practiced it before. The
slaves struggled to collect as much of the spurting cum as they
could oozing, through the lining, and out of the pockets. But it
was impossible to contain all of it, most of it flowing into the
dry patches of the boy's shorts.

Meanwhile Paul had enjoyed the rest. He liked the hot feeling of
the 'boy's' hard pricks rubbing along each groin. He was inured
to how much spunk his short trousers were covered and soaked in,
he was almost beginning to enjoy the drying stickiness of all the
spunk now deposited over and inside them, making the white lining
stick to his smooth thighs and fluffy balls. He was a 'bit
worried though about how hard the man behind him was pulling his
head into the rough crutch of the clean blue melton shorts that
had been despoiled by the man who had shot over them through his
burst fly. He thought that he was getting a bit too violent!

Now it was the turn of that very same man in the blue melton
shorts. He declared that he thought that Paul's short trousers
were too spunky and if he fucked them in that condition he would
stain his own with all the cum (in spite of the fact that they
already had a large patch down the front). He therefore proposed
to beat the spunk out of Paul's. He also supported his claim by
saving that Paul's arse was by now numb and needed livening up.
This was readily agreed to and the nervous boy was dragged to the
wooden frame where his arms were raised and his wrists tied with
rope to the cross beam above his head.

The man, standing in front of Paul slowly unbuckled his leather
belt. Paul's eyes widened with fear. Nobody had suggested a
beating, he felt weak at the knees. The company were now charged
with more sexual energy. They couldn't wait to see the boy
wriggle and squirm as the belt lashed over the seat of his spunk
sodden short trousers. The man walked behind him and pulled down
Paul's shorts just an inch or so, to unstick them from his
rounded cheeks. After a pause which caused Paul to tremble only
more he took careful aim and raising the doubled up belt high
over his head and bought it down squarely over the grey worsted
seat of the long suffering short trousers. The boy let out a
scream as the belt smashed onto them and jerked up his feet
lifting them from the ground, the rope cutting into his wrists.
The other thing that happened was that a great spray of spunk
shot out from the short trousers into the men crowding round.

"Again" they shouted and down came the belt a second time and
another scream from the boy and more spunk, this time more from
the left side as the sadist had moved his aim to that cheek. More
cheers as the belt landed now on the other cheek and created
another cloud of cum from the shorts. The boy was now begging for
mercy and the tears were streaming down his-face, but it was not
yet finished. His bum was burning with pain and he began to think
he wouldn't survive much longer. It was only allowed for him to
have six, although he didn't know that then. The two slave boys
came forward and started to undo the spunk soaked fly buttons of
Paul's short trousers and tugged them down. Paul now felt really
sick. Surely he was not to be lashed over his bare arse?

As the shorts were taken off, all eyes inspected the damage.
Three wide red marks were cut across his attractive little
cheeks. The slaves turned the shorts round and he stepped into
them. They were pulled up, black to front so that the belt could
attack the spunk soaked fly and. legs. Paul guessed that probably
there would only be another three and gritted his teeth for the
ordeal. He thought maybe with the extra thickness of the fly
buttons it wouldn't hurt so much.

Although the short trousers were so wet, cum was still dripping
in long strings from the legs that they stuck to him like a skin.
They offered little protection against the leather belt. His
bottom was now feeling a dull warmth all over and he felt
impatient for the man to get on with it. Which was exactly what
he did. As before three more lashes cracked onto the boy's short
trousers and each time sending up showers of spunk drops. Paul
was by now past caring and only wanted to hang there by his
wrists. He almost didn't care what they did to him. But the
strange thing was that those who weren't able to see the
favourite spot, his writhing hot bottom, noticed, with surprise,
an erection pushing out one leg of his short trousers.

The initiate was now virtually 'broken in'

The man, sweating from his labour of love stopped the beating and
putting his belt back through his short's belt loops came round
to the front of Paul. The boy thought that it was a farce that
the man was trying to protect his navy melton shorts from cum.
The front of them was covered with countless flecks of white
spunk marks. The man held the boy and kissed him on the lips,
pushing himself closely up against the boy's slim body, feeling
as he did so the boy's jutting out prick through his spunk wet,
but hot short trousers leg. He called out in triumph and reaching
behind the boy ripped open the fly buttons, yanked his short
trousers down. They fell to his ankles, the white lining turned,
stiffly, and glistening wet inside out.

There were many in the crowd who licked their lips, relishing the
impossible thought of being able to get their head down on that
lining to clean it up. Those behind saw that the belt marks had
all merged into two large bright red areas over each cheek,
whilst those in the front were to see Paul's erection proudly
popping up as his short trousers released their prize. The sight
caused more rejoicing. He indeed was going to be a worthy slave.

But that was not the last he was to see of the frame. He was now
allowed a short rest. He was untied and his short trousers put on
him the right way round and he was given another glass of water.
While he was drinking it the man in the leather shorts came up
and felt round his short trousers to see how much spunk was left
on them. There was a considerable amount still left. The belting,
although beating out a lot of it had also beaten it in. He was
going to be next behind Paul over the table and he wanted just
the right stickiness, and they certainly were. He pressed his
hands onto them and as he pulled his palms away the material
stuck to them and pulled out with them.

The growing bulge pushing out the black leather fall front fly
told Paul that his rest was finished. Again he was stretched over
the table. He felt more relaxed after the belting, which left his
bum feeling nice and warm. He felt he could now take most things.
The man's leather shorts were now inches from his eyes, and he
could see that the earlier shining spunk marks were now just wet
patches.

Paul was ordered to undo the two buttons holding the fall front,
which flicked open with an ease born of much practice and the
looseness of the button holes. The prick inside, released from
the constraining black leather sprang out and stood upright. The
first thing Paul noticed about it was the crown. The prick itself
was not so large as some he had already endured that evening but
the uncircumcised helmet was truly enormous. A thick ridge stood
out from the shaft an inch all round. He doubted that it would
get through the slit in the rear of his short trousers. It was
also glistening with spunk and Paul could see that the inside of
the fly flap gleamed with freshly deposited spunk. Surely, Paul
wondered, if he had only just come he wouldn't be able to do it
again so soon? But he was wrong. The man had cum as he was
feeling the boy's shorts and was still ready for more! He often
did this because as his helmet was so big he would sometimes cum
as he pushed it in and he certainly wanted his full time inside
the boy. He didn't want to come prematurely.

He moved behind the boy and, like the others gripped his hips
through the side pockets of his shorts and slowly guided the huge
crown through the short trousers rear slit. He knew that he had
to go slowly in order not to be disqualified on account of the
big crown. It buried itself deeper in, pulling the shorts
material with it. Paul's instinct was soon proved right and for
the second time that night, a ripping of stitches was heard as
suddenly the man was in. He sank his shaft slowly and as he did
so the cum that had been forced into the boy's rectum and kept
there by the cheeks tightening under the belting oozed out down
the shaft.

By now the shaft was fully home and the piston began pumping in
and out. Each time it was thrusting in and out it slurped more
spunk from the boy's anus. It spread all over the sticky seat and
down the legs of his short trousers. So much of it fell down onto
the rough black leather of the fall front fly that it was stuck
to the boy's shorts and every time the man pulled back the
leather flap stayed stuck to the short trousers and on
particularly full strokes long threads of silvery spunk stretched
across from the lederhosen to the boy's grey worsted arse.

The noise was quite sensuous, the slurping noise of the cum
overflowing from the boy's rectum combined with the slapping
noise the leather shorts made as they smacked up against the
boy's wet short trousers. In spite of having come only minutes
before the man, no doubt excited by the noise and sight of the
state of his own shorts was coming again. He may also have been
turned on by what the guy holding Paul's head was doing? One of
the pockets, which were cut out from the initiation short
trousers and thrown out to the crowd, had turned up but it was
now full of spunk. The man was dribbling part of the contents
over Paul's black curly hair.

The lederhosen man then shot his load, half of it inside Paul and
pulling out, he collected the other half in his hand and reached
forward added it to the spunk from the pocket in the boy's hair
also smearing it all over the boy's face.

Paul was then turned on his back for the pocket to be pushed into
his mouth where his lips were closed over it and he was forced to
suck all the cum through the white cotton and swallow the lot. It
took him a few minutes and it was bubbling from his lips as he
tried to cope with the cum from about a dozen ejaculations, that
had filled the pocket. He was beginning to enjoy the taste! The
man who produced the pocket withdrew it from the boy's lips and
gave him a big wet kiss, his tongue slipping deep down his throat
tasting the mixture of spunks.

By now Paul needed another piss and asked the MC for permission
to go to the toilet. This was refused and instead he was led back
to the frame. He was ordered to stand there and relax. A dry pair
of shorts were called for and from the gloom at the back of the
room a pair of thick and heavy, light sand coloured corduroy
scout shorts was passed to the front. His own short trousers were
carefully removed and he stepped into the dry shorts. They were
unlined and felt rough against his smooth thighs. Willing and
eager hands competed to do up the wide fly buttons, four in all.
A plastic sheet was placed under him and he was strung up again
and his legs spayed apart. The men waited and watched him, taking
special interest 'in the crotch and legs of his fresh, dry
shorts.

They didn't have to wait long. Paul started to squirm and wriggle
as the overwhelming feeling of needing a piss rose up inside him.
He could hold it no longer, and with a feeling of abandon,
started to let it go. The relief was wonderful and as it flowed
out he felt quite a sexy feeling from the end of his penis. The
first sign of this to the watching audience was when it started
to dribble from, first one leg, then the other. One man rushed
towards him and kneeling down eagerly pressed his mouth to the
hem of the boy's leaking cord shorts, greedily drinking the young
boy's warm piss. It was now gushing out and soaking through the
heavy corduroy from the bottom of the fly and down the legs.

The boy's piss was running over the man, who was dressed in a
school grey pullover and grey short trousers. Now someone else
joined in and standing beside the boy pulled out his cock from a
pair of brown, piss smelling corduroy short trousers, aimed it
into the pocket or Paul's shorts and let go a thick stream of
yellow piss. Then walking round behind him, still pissing, all
over the seat of his shorts aimed it into the other pocket.
Someone else stepped up, dressed as a boy scout. He was wearing
cotton khaki drill shorts. He knelt behind the boy in a position
to catch the piss draining from the boy's shorts. It ran all over
the wide button fly and over the legs of the khaki shorts making
them dark. He opened out the flap covering the fly buttons and
let the trough fill to the brim with the piss, momentarily
covering the four buttons. The front, fly and legs were now
really stained dark with piss and he stayed there until it
stopped flowing from the boy's now dark shorts. Paul now realised
why they had chosen the thick corduroy shorts. They could soak up
an enormous amount of piss. They felt so heavy it seemed that
they would drag him to the floor and indeed they would have if he
had not been bound to the wooden frame by the thick ropes. The
boy scout stood up, his khaki shorts stuck to him and clinging to
his thighs as if he had been swimming in them. Steam was rising
up from them.

Paul was then released and dressed in his own special pair of
short trousers and told that he was free for the rest of the
night. He was to get some sleep ready for the hunt tomorrow. He
was totally exhausted and was helped to the bedroom by the two
slaves who had earlier sat at his feet.

It was now gone midnight and most of the company were settling
down in pairs or more, at the end of the room, which was covered
with about a dozen mattresses, thrown onto the floor. As he
passed them they smiled evilly while groping themselves, staring
lasciviously at his spunk glistening short trousers, knows what
they might be able to do to Paul, in his turn, stole an envious
glance at their really spunked up, bulging shorts, knowing that
they would be going on for a few hours yet. Having spent a few
years spunking into his own short trousers or being forced to by
men in toilets or the cinema he was turned on by a pair of really
spunked up shorts. Also he wouldn't mind seeing what those boy
scout khaki shorts were like, he hadn't experienced someone into
piss before, and he had vague memories of wetting his shorts a
few times when he was about eight or nine and how he really quite
liked the sensation. The slaves were there to make sure that
nobody crept in for more 'fun', and to undress him but also to
make sure he didn't take off his short trousers, for they were
required to dry on him as he slept.

He stretched out on the cover of the bed not caring about the wet
shorts. The two younger boys, one was ten and the other eleven,
laid either side of him, on their sides. They all faced the same
way. They snuggled up close together "to help his shorts to dry"
they said. The twelve year old, behind him whispered into his
ear, just as he was dropping off, that he thought he did
wonderfully well and was sure that he would soon be a favourite
in the club.