David Clarke

The White Rat

Chapters 17-20

Chapter Seventeen

In this chapter we'll see Jordan making plans for Stephens's future that are rather different from the ones he was making a few weeks ago. And, of course, we'll see troubles continuing to swarm around the head of the beleaguered Rat.

Jordan had been easing back a bit on Larkin since the start of the summer term. He still insisted on the fourth-former wearing shorts and running errands for them during morning break, but – knowing that Larkin was still getting a hard time from his brother at home – he had cut back on the lunchtime sessions in the drama store room. He and Baker had double-ended Larkin a couple of times, but otherwise he had allowed the older boy to have his lunch breaks in peace.

On the morning of Monday May 2^nd he went and found Baker and took him up to the store room as usual. The third-year boy was surprised to see no sign of Larkin.

"He's not coming," Jordan told him. "I wanted to talk to you in private, and this seems like a good place. Look, Baker… you enjoy doing this stuff, don't you?"

"Sure. You know I do."

"Well… see, what it is… I know this boy who likes boys, and he's looking for a boyfriend, and I wondered if you might be interested."

"What, you mean… go on dates, and stuff?"

"Well, probably. But he likes sex, too, so I suppose there'd be plenty of that."

"Well… crumbs, Fielding, I'm not sure. I mean, I like the sex stuff, and it's true that I like seeing boys with no clothes on, but I don't know about… well, being someone's boyfriend and going on dates and snogging, and stuff. I've never even thought about stuff like that."

"No, nor had I until… well, most of what I've done so far has been like what we do to Larkin, making older boys do sex stuff for you. But now… see, there's a boy in my form and we really like each other, and we do sex stuff together, but it's sort of more than that: we just like hanging about together and stuff, even when we're not doing sex. I mean, if we go out somewhere we don't think of it as a date, and we haven't kissed each other… well, not yet, but I sort of think I'd like to try… anyway, it's different from us doing things with Larkin, and it's better, somehow. And I thought maybe you'd like to try that sort of thing, too."

"Well… I'm not sure. Who is this boy? I mean, is he really ugly, or what?"

"No, he's quite good-looking, actually. I'll point him out to you later, if you like. He'll be in school tomorrow for an exam."

"Huh? What, he's doing exams? How old is he?"

"Fifteen. He's in the fifth year."

"No, I don't think I like that idea," said Baker. "Getting told what to do by an older boy, and having to do the stuff he wants to do? No, thanks."

"It wouldn't be like that at all. He's not like that – in fact, it would probably be the other way round: he'd ask you what you wanted to do, and it would be you who made all the decisions. You wouldn't have to do anything you didn't want, and he'd let you do anything you wanted with him."

"How come?"

"Well, it's a bit of a long story, but he's just like that: he's never had a boyfriend, and he's sort of timid. He looks younger than he really is… I'll point him out to you tomorrow, and if you want to meet him, keep next Saturday morning free."

"And you really think he'd let me put mine up his bum, or in his mouth, and he wouldn't insist on doing it to me?"

"I'm sure. Of course, you do suck nicely, so maybe you could do it to him if you wanted, but he wouldn't make you."

"Well… okay, then: show me what he looks like tomorrow, and then I'll make up my mind."

After he had been forced to suck all the first-years until they got excited, David was dressed in his normal shirt, tie and blazer, with the long socks and the pocketless shorts, and no underpants, and sent to lunch.

"Come back here straight after school," Osterley told him. "You'll have to suck Bertie before you go home – we haven't got time now – and then you'll have to get changed into your girlie clothes. And we'll expect you here at quarter to nine tomorrow morning, and then tomorrow at break you can start with form 2C. I know my friend Pope will be really keen to see you dressed like a girl."

David went to lunch, and of course it wasn't long before his shorts were noticed by the rest of his own form. The teasing of Larkin, who was of course also wearing shorts, had eased off almost completely since the Easter holidays, but the sight of the hated Rat in shorts drew a chorus of scorn and mockery. And they wouldn't let him alone, either: they kept up a barrage of jokes and taunting right through lunch and, sotto voce, afternoon school.

At the end of school David headed, reluctantly, for the music block, but he was met on the way by Sherwood and another kid in first-year uniform whom he didn't know. This boy had dark red hair and was a little overweight.

"This is Julian Stagg," Sherwood told David. "He's got a brother in your form."

Now David recognised the kid: his brother Michael, who was a lot skinnier than his brother and whose hair was bright red, was indeed in David's own form. He'd hardly ever spoken to him: after all, the boy lived on a council estate, and so they had nothing in common… and now David could guess which council estate he lived on.

"Orders from Tim," Sherwood went on. "From now on you have to show every mark you get to Michael Stagg, and he'll tell Julian, and Julian will tell me, and I'll tell Tim. Every single time you get some work back from the teachers, or take a test, or an exam, you're to show Julian's brother the mark you get. If you don't, we'll decide that you scored zero for that piece of work. And Tim says if your marks aren't high enough you'll be punished. He didn't say what the punishment would be, but we're all going to come and watch, so I expect it'll be funny. And this starts tomorrow. Don't forget, now!" And he and Julian Stagg walked away.

David walked slowly on to the music block, feeling even more miserable. He knew his results at school were no better than average: he hadn't felt he needed to work too hard as his mother had always assured him someone of his quality would always be able to find work, provided he did enough to get to university, and he had been confident he wouldn't have to worry too much about that until the sixth form and A levels. And he hated to think what sort of punishments Devlin would inflict once he started hearing about the seven out of twenty scores he'd been notching up lately…

In the music block Osterley and Little Collins were waiting for him. He was made to strip naked once more, and his school uniform was folded up and put into the cupboard in the corner of the room. Then he was forced to his knees in front of the chair while Little Collins removed all of his clothes and came and sat in front of him.

"You don't need to get completely undressed," Osterley pointed out.

"I know, but I like doing sex stuff without anything on at all," Little Collins told him. "It feels nicer, somehow. Okay, Rat, show me what you can do… except, before we start: how long is your willy when it sticks out?"

"I don't know."

"Then we'd better measure it, hadn't we?"

"Okay, it's one point eight inches [4.6 cm]," said David, who had no wish to let anyone else touch him.

"Good, so you are smaller than me: mine's two point four [6.1 cm]. Come on, then, show me why the first-year kids liked it so much."

David leant forward and got on with it. Little Collins was slightly smaller than either Downing or Lithgow, who had both been in the region of three inches [8 cm], and so there was no danger of this hitting the back of David's throat. But the thought of doing this filthy thing still made him feel sick, and he had to try to close his mind to what he was actually doing and just try to do it automatically.

It took ages, but at last Little Collins started to writhe about on his chair, and eventually he grabbed David's head and thrust up hard against it, squealing as he experienced a brilliant orgasm. Even though there was nothing in his mouth David still crawled to the waste bin and spat as soon as he was released.

Little Collins got dressed.

"Was that nice, Bertie?" asked Osterley.

"It was brilliant!"

"Good. Then maybe next time we can try something else: you stick yours in his mouth while I stick mine up his arse, then we can both enjoy it at the same time."

"Yeah! That sounds like a great idea!"

"Then that's what we'll do. Okay, Rat, get your clothes on and get lost."

David forced himself to put on the girls uniform, picked up his briefcase and put his head gingerly out of the door, but Osterley shoved him out into the yard and closed the door behind them.

"Just go," he ordered. "If you're lucky most of the kids who catch your usual bus will have gone by now. Of course, tomorrow morning it might be a bit different…"

He was right: there was nobody at the bus stop when David got there, and the other passengers didn't spare him a second glance: obviously he was a convincing girl. He got off at his usual stop and made it home without meeting anyone he knew, but as soon as he opened the front door he found all three Devlin children waiting for him.

"Mark Sherwood called and told us to expect you," Tim explained. "My, you do look sweet. The boys won't be able to keep their hands off you. Okay, go and get on with your homework. You can keep those clothes on for now and get changed when it's time for supper."

So David trailed up the stairs to Joe's room, thinking that tomorrow morning he'd be forced to travel, dressed as a girl, on the same bus as the Devlins and all their friends. He was starting to wish he had never been born…

The journey to school next day was every bit as bad as he had feared. When he first got up Molly had dressed him in his usual school uniform (minus his blazer which had been left in the music block the previous evening), but as soon as they were out of the house they hustled him into the bushes and forced him into the girls uniform, and Tim packed away his shirt and long trousers in his own school bag, so that David would be unable to get at it until he returned home.

The kids on the bus really tore into him, and the fact that there were some boys from KEV on the bus didn't help his cause at all. When he got off the bus these kids marched him into the yard and kept him by the gate for ten minutes for everyone to look at, and when he finally broke free and fled to the music block he was mocked all the way.

The shorts and long socks were actually an improvement of sorts, though he was sure that as soon as Pope and his friends realised these were the same ones that Osterley had worn the previous term he could expect some serious attention from them. And of course before that he was going to have to go and visit their form room dressed as a girl.

Osterley escorted him there himself at the start of break, and then sat back to enjoy the show. As he had anticipated, first David was laughed at, and then thrown onto the teacher's desk and molested, while he tried uselessly to fight them off. His skirt was removed, provoking shrieks of laughter (only Little Collins had seen David undressed until now).

"That's why he's dressed as a girl!" Pope commented. "It's because he's not a real boy at all. I bet those little bits are just a plastic disguise. Let's see if we can pull them off." And he tried, making David cry out in pain, while the rest of the form fell about laughing at him.

"Okay, so they're pretty well stuck on," conceded Pope. "But we can prove they're not real: come on, BC, do what you did to Osterley. The Rat is supposed to be a fourth-year, so if these are real you'll be able to make loads of that stuff come out."

Little Collins grinned, took hold of David's minuscule penis and tugged on it until it was stiff. Then he started to rub it properly. David cried blue murder, but the boys holding him down were more than up to the job and he was unable to break free.

Little Collins rubbed away at it while the second-formers crowded round, taunting him for his inability to produce anything, and when he couldn't hold it back any longer and bucked helplessly in his orgasm the laughter just got louder.

"Told you they weren't real," said Pope. "That proves she's a girl. And there's only one way to deal with a girl who pretends to be a boy. Turn her over, you lot!"

David was flipped onto his stomach and pulled into a position where he was bent over the edge of the desk. Pope undid his trousers, lined up, looked irritated for a moment but then gratefully accepted the small jar of Vaseline that Osterley helpfully handed to him.

"I was going to do that myself a bit later," Osterley told him, "but be my guest."

David struggled and shouted, loudly enough for some of the boys in 2B's room next door to hear and come to investigate, and quickly they sent word back and the room rapidly filled with boys from the other second forms. Meanwhile Pope anointed himself, lined up once more and pushed.

David yelled in pain as he was penetrated, but there was nothing he could do, and steadily Pope started to fuck him.

Osterley looked at the audience, noting some very different reactions. Most of the boys looked excited and were craning their necks to see more closely, many with their hands in their pockets rearranging something that would otherwise have been uncomfortable. A few weren't watching at all and had their heads down over their desks, and a couple actually walked out. And the remainder looked worried, rather than excited, wondering if this was really the right thing to do, or if they were going to get into trouble just for being present, and one or two seemed on the verge of actually voicing a protest. But the majority seemed to be enjoying the show, and in the end the few dissenters decided to keep their views to themselves. After all, it was only the Rat, and heaven knew he deserved to be put in his place…

Pope finished off with a couple of big thrusts and a gasp, took a moment to recover, and then withdrew and wiped himself down with a tissue that Osterley had also thoughtfully brought with him.

"Who's next?" said Pope, and there was a scrum around the desk. He selected the boy nearest the front, and David's torment continued.

By the time Osterley called a halt – the bell was due to go in five minutes, and he had to get David changed again before that – the Rat had been fucked four times, and seemed incapable of movement, just lying slumped across the desk crying. Osterley and Pope pulled him to his feet and put his skirt back on, and then Osterley half supported and half carried him back to the music block.

"Get changed," he said, but David just curled up on the floor, sobbing.

Osterley felt contempt: he'd taken a lot worse than this himself, of course: at least the Rat hadn't been whipped as well as fucked.

"The bell's going to go in about one minute," Osterley pointed out. "If you don't get changed you're going to be late for your next lesson. Or you can go dressed like that, for all I care. But you'd better go, because if not we'll have to report you to Blackman, and then you'll get expelled."

"I don't care," sobbed David.

"You will when you've had a few minutes to recover. Believe me, I know. Look, as this is your first day I'll let you down easy: the list I drew up for you says you have to go to 2A at lunch time, but I'll postpone that till tomorrow. Just come here at lunch time instead. But if you don't start getting changed now I'll change my mind again."

David dragged himself to his feet and managed to get the blouse undone, shrugging it off. Slowly he put his own shirt back on, fumbling the buttons, and then his tie, and then Osterley handed him his shorts… and the bell rang.

"Hurry up," said Osterley, and David managed to get the zip done up. He sat down and pulled the socks on, rammed his feet into his shoes, grabbed his blazer and allowed Osterley to shove him out of the door, his laces trailing. He beat the teacher to the next lesson by about five seconds.

By lunch time he had recovered a bit, but the thought of going through this every day for the next four weeks was absolutely unbearable, and as soon as he reached the music block he started to plead with Osterley to let him off.

"Let you off? Did you let me off at all? No, you just kept making things worse and worse for me, until you had me whipped and raped in public by half the junior school. Why shouldn't I make sure you get at least that, and preferably get you done over by the other half as well?"

"Because I'm sorry," whispered David.

"You wouldn't be if you weren't in this mess now. Remember what you were like at the end of last term? 'I'm going to make next term hell on earth for you, you ignorant peasant!' That's what you told me before you found out Garrett wouldn't be here to back you up, isn't it?"

David couldn't think of anything to say: as far as he could remember that was exactly what he had said.

"Okay," he admitted, finally, "It's true, I did say that. And if Garrett had still been here this term, I'd have done it, too. But… I had no idea what it felt like to you."

"Don't lie! You saw me, naked and crying after Pope's mob had finished with me, and you couldn't have cared less. I felt so bad I wanted to kill myself after that second time, and if Bertie hadn't been there I probably would have done."

Little Collins, who was the only other person in the room, smiled at him. "I'm really glad you didn't," he said.

"Me too, now. But at the time… So frankly, Rat, I can't think of any reason why I should let you off. And if you end up feeling like I did, I don't think anyone in this school would lift a finger to stop you throwing yourself under a bus. In fact, most of them would probably volunteer to push you."

David thought Fielding might try to stop him, but he couldn't think of anyone else who might. He hung his head again.

"But," Osterley went on," I'm feeling generous, and of course I do know how bad you felt at the end of break, because I've been there, too. So if you beg me to, I'll let you stay here this lunch time instead of going to visit 2A, and I might relax your timetable a bit so that you only have one break a day with the juniors instead of both of them. But you're going to have to beg really, really convincingly."

David hated the thought of having to abase himself in front of Osterley, but he knew there was really no other choice: if he had to face being molested and raped every single break for the next four weeks, he was sure it would drive him insane. So, trying to hide the hatred he felt, he dropped to his knees.

"Please, Osterley," he begged, "don't make me go to the juniors' form-rooms every break. I'm really sorry about what happened to you last term…"

"No, you're not, you bloody liar," interrupted Little Collins. "I was watching you, leaning on the wall and smirking while the boys were torturing him."

"Well… okay, that's true. But I really didn't know what it felt like until today. If I had known, I wouldn't have done it…"

"Yes, you would," interrupted Little Collins again, glaring at him. "In fact, you'd probably have thought it wasn't bad enough. I can tell from the look in your eyes."

"I wouldn't!" cried David, desperately. "Don't listen to him, Osterley!"

"I'd far sooner listen to him than to you," said Osterley. "But I tell you what: kiss my arse and I'll believe you."

"No! God, Osterley, you can't make me do that – it's vile!"

"I'm not making you do anything. It's entirely your choice: if you're happy to go on visiting the juniors every break, you don't have to go near my arse. But if you'd prefer to come here at lunch times instead… well, you know what to do." And Osterley undid his belt, pulled his trousers and pants down, turned round and bent over.

Again, there was really no choice, though David felt sure he'd puke if he did this. But that would still be far better than what had happened to him at break, so he shuffled forwards on his knees and planted a quick kiss on Osterley's left buttock.

"Not like that!" said Little Collins. "Right on his hole. Go on, Ian, spread your legs for him."

Osterley grinned and removed his trousers and pants completely, and then spread his legs as far as he could and bent over again.

"Oh, God, no," begged David in horror, staring at Osterley's anus.

"Get on with it," said Osterley. "You've got five seconds: five, four, three…"

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, David ducked his head and planted the swiftest of possible pecks on Osterley's anus.

"Not good enough," declared Little Collins. "You have to do it properly: keep your head still for at least five seconds."

This took huge reserves of will-power, but somehow David forced himself to hold his lips against Osterley's entrance for five seconds.

"Better," conceded Little Collins, "but still not enough. You have to lick it."

"Fuck off!" declared David, moving back. "I've kissed it like you told me to. That's enough."

"Okay," said Osterley, surprising Little Collins, who had been about to argue the point. "Then we'll try something else. Get your clothes off and then bend over the table, like you did when we whipped you yesterday."

David looked around, put he could see no signs of a cane, so he cautiously obeyed.

"Good. Now you can suck Bertie's cock while I fuck you."

"No, I can't! Shit, Osterley, I'm not going…"

"SHUT UP!" shouted Osterley. "I'm sick of hearing about what you're not going to do. Get this into your head, Rat: you're going to do exactly what I tell you, okay? If you don't, you'll be expelled – and from what Sherwood was telling me yesterday, he could fix it so that you still had to do whatever we tell you even after you've been kicked out of school. Next time you argue with me or Bertie you'll get caned and then dragged round the junior forms stark naked! For God's sake, we're giving you a chance here, can't you see that? There's only two of us here, not about forty, like there were at break! So just do as you're damned well told, or you'll spend every minute of your free time being gang-fucked by Pope and his mates. Now open your legs for me."

Trembling with suppressed but helpless rage, David forced himself to obey, and Osterley carefully pushed his penis inside him. Once it was fully inside he ordered David to start sucking Little Collins, and the younger boy gleefully stripped naked and presented his little penis for David to suck. And for the next ten minutes he was forced to pleasure them both at once.

Osterley came first, and his thrusts as he climaxed hurt David enough that he had to open his mouth and cry out, but as soon as Osterley had finished he ordered David to get back to work, and he was forced to keep sucking until Little Collins had also experienced an exquisite orgasm.

"Is that it? Can I get dressed now?" asked David as Little Collins stepped away.

"Yes, I suppose…" said Osterley, but Little Collins interrupted him.

"Not until you've licked Ian's arse," he said, firmly. "I want to see that you're ready to be properly obedient from now on."

David bit back a protest and looked to Osterley, hoping for an over-rule, but all he got was a grin and a shrug. And then Osterley turned and bent down again, and David somehow forced himself to lick the length of Osterley's crack. His stomach lurched as he did it and he almost puked, grabbing the waste bin and struggling to control his stomach, and in the end he won the battle, just.

"That's better," said Little Collins. "And now you can get dressed."

David thought he'd never hated anyone – not even the bloody Devlins – as much as he hated Little Collins at that moment. He threw on his clothes and ran off.

"That's the one," said Jordan, pointing Stephens out to Baker.

"What, the one with black hair?"

"That's him."

"Well… he is quite nice-looking, isn't he? And you're right, he looks younger than fifth-year age. And you're sure about him not wanting to boss me about?"

"Certain. Look, let's go and say hello now, then you can see what you think close up."

He led Baker across to where Stephens was standing.

"This is Nigel Stephens," he said. "Nigel, this is… "

"John," supplied Baker. "I'm John Baker."

"Oh. Crumbs, Jordan, I didn't know you were going to… well, okay. Hello, John. So… What has Jordan told you?"

"That you might be looking for a friend," said Baker.

"Right. Well, yes, I suppose that's right," said Stephens, who seemed completely flustered. "I'm sorry… I didn't even know if Jordan was serious when he said he thought there might be someone… anyway… so…"

"So I think I'd like that," said Baker, who had already seen enough to know that Jordan's description of 'timid' was spot-on. "If you think I'm not too ugly, of course…"

"God, no! I think you're really… you know, good-looking," said Stephens, lowering his voice and looking around nervously in case anyone was listening. Nobody was.

"Good, because I reckon you look pretty good, too. So, Jordan says there's a place where you meet at the weekends sometimes. Could I come along this Saturday?"

"Wow! I mean, yes, of course… thanks! That'd be really good!"

"Great! I'll see you there, then." And Baker walked off.

"Crumbs, Jordan, you might have warned me," said Stephens, once he had gone.

"Why? I wanted him to see you like you really are, not when you're trying to act special. Anyway, what do you think? Will he do?"

"Flipping heck, yes! He's really nice-looking – and those eyes are amazing! And… you really think he'll want to do… you know, sex stuff, with me?"

"I'm sure he will."

"Great! Thanks, Jordan…"

"Don't forget I'm going to be allowed to watch sometimes," Jordan reminded him. "So, how did the exam go?"

"Better than I expected, actually. If the second paper isn't any harder, I reckon I'll pass…"

After school David returned to the music block and put the female uniform on again, but as soon as he stepped outside he was ambushed by Sherwood and Julian Stagg.

"Bad news, Rat," Sherwood told him. "Tim's decided that Tuesday evening is going to be your night for tidying up their proper house. He said you have to come back with me now."

"But… oh, Christ, Sherwood, you can't make me come to your filthy estate dressed like this!"

"Want to bet?" And Sherwood grabbed one arm, and Stagg grabbed the other, and they marched him out of school. He struggled a bit, but Stagg's older brother was waiting for them outside the school gate, and when he'd finished laughing he grabbed David's arm and dug his thumb into the elbow, which was exquisitely painful.

"Now, you're just going to walk along with us quietly," Michael Stagg told him, "because if you don't, I'll see to it that you come to lessons tomorrow dressed exactly how you are now."

"The teachers won't allow it."

"I think they will: you're not very popular at King Edward, Villiers-Gore, and if we tell the teachers what you're really like you'll be even less popular than you are now. And if they see you dressed like that, I'm sure the reason for it would come out, too. I mean, most of us wouldn't care if you got expelled, but Tim here tells me that you've got some sort of agreement with Blackman: if you take your punishment like a man, you don't get expelled. So, come along with us and don't make a fuss, or maybe Tim will decide you've broken that agreement."

The thought of being forced to actually go to lessons dressed like this was even worse than the idea of walking through the peasants' council estate in these clothes: at least most of the people who saw him in the estate wouldn't know who he was, and would probably just take him for a girl. If his own classmates saw him like this they would crucify him. So he stopped struggling and walked alongside Michael Stagg while Sherwood and Julian Stagg walked ahead of them.

"People are going to think you've got a bird at last," said Julian over his shoulder to his brother.

"Get lost! I've got better taste than that! Although… I don't know, maybe with a little light make-up, and if you grew your hair a little, you'd make quite a decent girl, Villiers-Gore."

"If I was a girl I certainly wouldn't want to go out with a freckly ginger git like you," responded David. "And you're too skinny. I'd want to go out with a boy with some muscle."

"Hey, you're got even less muscle than me," pointed out Michael, who wasn't really one of the sportier boys in the class: he'd turned fifteen just before Easter, but he was still a bit undersized and weedy. He was still four or five inches [10-13 cm] taller than David, however. "You know damned well I could murder you in a fight."

"And what would that prove? I know I'm no good at fighting. I prefer to use my brain."

"And look where it's got you, Daisy," said Michael. "Plus, judging from the marks you got on last Friday's maths homework, I'd say your brain's no better than your muscles."

It was hard to argue with that: five out of twenty isn't exactly Mensa standard. David just kept quiet and stared at the pavement in front of him. But calling him 'Daisy' was enough to get Michael Stagg's name added to David's mental list of people who would need sorting out once he emerged from his present mess. It was already a very long list…

They reached the Devlins' house, where Tim and Joe were waiting for them.

"Molly's gone to visit Bella – she only lives round the corner," Joe told him, "so that leaves me in charge of your clothes. And I seem to remember that we made a rule for you about clothes last Friday. Can you remember what it was?"

"Yes, but… well… can't we wait a couple of minutes?" asked David, looking unhappily at Michael – so far nobody in his own form had seen him naked, and he really wanted to keep it that way.

"Certainly not," replied Joe. "A rule's a rule. Now get undressed, or we'll all duff you up on Friday."

Reluctantly David removed the female uniform, trying to keep his back to Michael, though he was fairly sure he wouldn't be able to get away with that for very long.

"Hey, Tim," said Sherwood, "you'll never believe what Osterley showed us yesterday! Come on, Rat, give them a demonstration."

"No! Hey, come on, Sherwood, you had your fun with me last week. Can't you just leave me alone now?"

"God, no, this feels far too good. I bet you'd want to share something as good as this with your friends, if you actually had any. Now go and kneel in front of that armchair."

Feeling sick, David dropped to his knees in front of the chair, while Sherwood removed his shorts and pants and came and sat in front of him.

"Please?" he begged.

"Get on with it," said Sherwood, enjoying himself. "After all, I need the odd nice feeling now and again to make up for the fact that I live in a sewer."

There were David's own words coming back to bite him yet again, and he realised that there was no way out of this. He lowered his head over Sherwood's groin and took the quivering erection into his mouth, to a chorus of disgusted exclamations from his audience.

"Look, I fucking hate this!" he cried, rounding on them. "So you can stop all those comments: I'm doing this because I have to, that's all."

"Get on with it, then," said Sherwood, grabbing his head and pulling him back into position.

The others watched in fascination while David sucked Sherwood off, enjoying the look on David's face when Sherwood finally let him stop after his climax.

"I'm telling you, that's the most incredible feeling ever," said Sherwood, standing up and pulling his pants back on. "You won't believe how good it feels!"

"I've got to try that!" said Joe, throwing his clothes off. "Come on, Gerbil, do it to me – and it had better be good, or you'll get whipped. I'll get Roger to do it – he's pretty strong."

Helplessly David complied, bringing Joe to an incredible orgasm.

"Bloody hell, that's almost as good as fucking him," said Joe, pushing David away.

"What, you've actually fucked him?" asked Michael Stagg, in disbelief.

"You bet. It's magic. Why, do you want a go?"

"Well… not right now," said Michael, who thought he might try it in private, but not while all these people were here, especially if they'd all done it before. He was sure that with his complete lack of experience he'd mess it up somehow. Besides, he wasn't sure about getting shit on his knob, which he thought would be pretty disgusting.

"Okay, then make him suck it instead," insisted Joe. "That's pretty amazing, too."

"Well… okay, then." After all, Michael thought, the little bastard's been looking down his nose at me all year. So he removed his trousers and pants.

"Wow," said Joe. "Your hair's the same colour! I didn't know you could have red hair round your cock – I thought it would be darker."

"Well, it isn't," said Michael, who was fed up with comments about his hair – after all, he thought, I didn't choose to have bright red hair… and at least (he added mentally, glancing down at David's pathetic little genitals) I've got some hair…

David looked at the other boy's genitals with distaste: somehow the thin ginger pubes made it look even worse. It wasn't all that big, probably no more than than five inches [13 cm], and it was still pale, and the balls weren't particularly big, either. But he was certain there'd be spunk, and probably a lot more than Osterley had managed.

"Come on, Stagg, please don't make me do this," he begged, and Stagg actually hesitated. But before he could speak Joe butted in.

"Suck it, Gerbil," he ordered. "Now – unless you want us to start whipping you while you do it. The riding crop's just upstairs…"

With a stifled sob David forced himself to take the horrible thing into his mouth, licking at it as he sucked and squeezing hard – he just wanted this to be over and done with.

"Wow!" was Michael's reaction. "That feels… really weird. It's nice, though."

"It gets nicer," Joe told him, and it did: it wasn't long before Michael was frantically trying to hold back his orgasm, and then he couldn't hold it back any longer. And it was as bad as David had feared: three or four jets of spunk shot into his mouth. He tried to control his rising gorge for as long as he could, but it got too much. He rolled away and vomited onto the floor, fortunately missing the rug and hitting the wooden floor instead.

"Oh, now you're in trouble," said Tim. "Get into the kitchen and find something to clean that up with."

David staggered off towards the kitchen, while Michael got his breath back and found his underwear.

"What was that like?" his brother asked.

"That was bloody unbelievable," Michael told him. "Bloody hell, Jules, you've got to try that."

"I don't know if he'll be able to do that to anyone else," said Tim. "Or not right away, anyway. I mean, I don't want him puking all over my balls."

"Me neither," said Julian Stagg. "Maybe I should wait until next time. Or… hey, Mikey, are you still going to that party in Gloucester on Saturday?"

"Yes, why?"

"And you haven't got anyone to go with yet, have you?"

"Well, no, you know I haven't. It doesn't matter, I can always go on my own."

"Yes, but didn't you say your mate's always going on about the fact that you can't get a girlfriend?"

"Yes, he does, but it's only because I haven't tried. You know that, Jules – so what are you going on about?"

"Well… why don't you take Villiers-Gore as your girlfriend? If we can find someone who's got a sister your age, so we can borrow some clothes, I reckon nobody would ever guess he isn't really a girl, especially if we can teach him to put a bit of make-up on and change his hairstyle a bit."

"Sod off, Jules! I'm not taking a boy dressed as a girl to a party – they'd all die laughing when they found out."

"No, hang on, I reckon that's a great idea!" said Tim, enthusiastically. "I've seen him with make-up on, and I swear you'd never know he's really a boy. Nobody would find out: you'd score some points over this mate of yours, and Gerbil would have to act like a girl for hours. He'll hate it! It's a brilliant plan!"

"Then we'll make him do it. Make him come round to our place to meet you, and then he can do that thing for me before you go," said Julian.

David came back and somehow managed to clean up the mess on the floor without throwing up again, but only by holding his breath. He wondered why everyone was giggling, but assumed they were just laughing at him on principle. But when he came back after disposing of the evidence he found out just how wrong he was.

"No!" was his immediate reaction. "I'm not fucking doing it, and that's final! I don't care how much you beat me, I'm not going out in public dressed like a girl!"

"You already do that," Tim pointed out.

"Yes, but that's only for a few minutes, and most people just ignore me. It'd be totally different at a party: there'd be loads of people staring at me, and someone would be sure to see through me inside five minutes – and then… no, Devlin, I'm not doing it, and that's the end of it!"

"I don't think it is," said Tim. "Either you do this, or we'll lock you in the attic throughout the weekend. You'll get nothing to eat or drink, and we'd cut the light off, too."

"And I could make sure Osterley has you whipped naked in the middle of the yard," added Sherwood. "Every day."

"But… shit, you can't! I mean, you have to play fair… I'm doing all the bad stuff, but you just can't make me pretend to be a girl in front of loads of people I don't know."

"Actually, that's why it would work," said Michael. "This friend whose party I'm going to used to go to my primary school, but his family moved to Gloucester three years ago, so I don't really know any of his new friends very well. There won't be anyone else from KEV there, so there's no danger of anyone recognising you."

"That's settled, then," said Tim. "How are you getting there, Michael?"

"On the bus, I think."

"Okay, we'll bring him over here on Saturday afternoon, and you can come and collect him from here. Molly's friend Rosie has a sister about the right age, so with a bit of luck we might be able to find some suitable clothes. And maybe she can come and help with the make-up, too…"

"But…"

"Shut up, Gerbil, it's happening. And now you'd better get on with cleaning the kitchen, hadn't you? We haven't got all night."

David was stripped and beaten in 2A's room on the Wednesday, but at least nobody raped him. On the Thursday 1A made him clean their blackboard and sweep their floor, but nothing more. He'd been terrified that Downing and Lithgow would make him suck in front of the whole form, but they didn't, though both they and the rest of Osterley's little band made him do it for them in the privacy of the music practice room on the Wednesday, and on the Thursday Osterley fucked him while he was forced to suck Little Collins again, though this time it was worse because of the four first-year boys jeering at him throughout.

The other plus point was that nobody in his own form had yet found out about the lack of pockets in his shorts, so although they mocked him tirelessly, at least nobody actually molested him.

On the Friday at break he was sent to clean 1B's room, but again Sherwood and McMillan just took a back seat and let their form-mates tease, taunt and generally take the piss out of him. And at lunch Osterley fucked him again, though this time while he was sucking McMillan. He hated every second, but he was conscious that it could be a whole lot worse. And then Friday evening came round, and he had to go to cubs, and after that things were a whole lot worse.

The entire six went back to the Devlins' house, as they had the previous week, and it was obvious that Joe had told all the others about being sucked off, because everyone wanted to try it – at least, they all wanted to try being sucked until Joe told them about fucking, and then they all wanted to try that, too.

"We'll draw up a list," said Joe. "Those who fuck him this week get sucked next week, okay? Now, I'll take Mike and George, and Roger and Flip can go with Benny, and Benny and I will toss for it. Winner's team get to fuck him this week, loser's team next week. So, who's got a coin?"

Benedict produced a ten pence piece and flicked it into the air, and Joe called 'Tails!' as it spun. Benedict caught the coin and displayed it on the back of his hand, and indeed it was tails.

"Unlucky, Benny," said Joe. "Mind you, getting sucked is pretty brilliant, too. Now, let's work out what order we're going in…"

David, who had been standing off to one side, naked, with his hands on his head (that had been Roger's idea, to make sure he couldn't try to hide his genitals with his hands), listened to this and felt sick: he was going to be forced to do it with all six of them. At least it seemed unlikely that there'd be anything to come out in his mouth, but the idea of being sexually abused by a bunch of little kids aged eight to ten made him feel almost suicidal. But, as usual, there was nothing he could do about it.

There was a leather footstool in front of the sofa, and the boys put this in front of one of the armchairs so that he could lie across it to be fucked while sucking on whoever was in the chair. Joe had worked out that they should do this in order of size, although since he, George and Mike were all about the same size they had to get a tape measure out to see who was going to go first. Mike turned out to be just over a quarter of an inch [5 mm] shorter than Joe and George, who were about the same length, though Joe claimed top spot on the grounds that his balls were a bit bigger than George's.

"But I'm younger, so when I'm your age, I'll be bigger," protested George.

"But you're not now. Anyhow, this means you get your go before me."

"Oh. Okay, then."

David tried to close the whole situation out of his mind, but he couldn't: Joe forced him to look at Mike's penis as the Vaseline was applied to it, knowing how it would make him feel, which was both inadequate by comparison to this nine-year-old, and scared of what it was going to feel like: Mike's cock was so hard it was almost vertical, and although it was only three and a half inches [9 cm] long, it looked fat enough to hurt. He spread himself, tried to force himself to relax and braced himself as he felt the tip of the younger boy's foreskin touch his anus.

Mike shoved, and in it went, and David cried out because it did hurt: Mike just rammed it in without attempting to stop on the way.

"Shut up, you baby," said Roger, scornfully. "Go on, Flip, give the baby a dummy to suck on."

Philip sat on the chair, presenting his erection. David hadn't seen one quite like this, because it curved to the left, but he still managed to get it into his mouth, and then the two boys worked on him together, Mike rocking back and forwards and Flip pulling his head against him.

"Remind me to bring the videocam next week," said Roger.

"Wow, have you really got one?" asked Joe. "That would be brilliant!"

"It's my dad's, but I'm sure I can borrow it. This would look really, really funny on tape, wouldn't it?"

"Bloody hell, yes! Don't forget it next week, Rog – and… can you bring it to camp at half term?"

"Don't know about that," said Roger. "Dad might not want to risk it… but I can ask him, anyway."

"Brilliant!" said Joe, again, and David felt, if possible, even sicker: the thought that this disgusting stuff might be filmed for boys to watch and laugh about over and over again made him feel, not for the first time, like jumping off a cliff.

Eventually Mike and Flip finished, and George took over from Mike while Roger took Flip's place. Roger's was quite small, thin, pale, and his foreskin slid down automatically as it stiffened up, making him look strange. David thought his might actually be smaller than Flip's, but he decided that mentioning this would probably get him beaten up.

George, on the other hand, was definitely bigger than Mike; and proud of himself, flaunting it in front of David's face as Joe put the Vaseline on him. He got it in first time, but then he was far too enthusiastic, trying to ram it in hard with every stroke, with the result that it came right out almost every time. Eventually Joe persuaded him to calm it a little, and then he got into a rhythm that was merely uncomfortable to David, who was in any case being seriously distracted by the way Roger was wrenching at his hair to pull him against him. By the time the big boy finally reached orgasm David was convinced his hair was coming out in clumps.

"Whoopee, this is fun!" was George's verdict as he bounced against David's bum. "And I think I'm going to pee up his arse!"

"You're not, but try to hold it back anyway," advised Joe, and the small boy did that, squealing and yelping as he finally had his first orgasm.

"Oh, blimey… wow!" he said, withdrawing. "That sort of tickled… it's really nice, though, isn't it?"

"It certainly is," said Joe. "My turn… Benny, wait a minute until I'm in, then you can show him."

Joe had done this before, of course, and so he was able to get it in fairly easily, and he took it more gently than the others, too, for which David was grateful.

"Okay, Benny – take everything off, slowly: give him one of your special stripteases," said Joe, holding almost still.

The sixer gave a huge, toothy smile and slowly began to get undressed, waving each piece of clothing about in a parody of a striptease as he did it. David found it sick, but somehow fascinating, and when the boy's shorts came off the bulge in his pants told its own story. Benedict came and stood right in front of him, pretending to take his pants off two or three times, but always stopping before more than the area at the base of his penis was visible. And then he turned round, slipped the pants right off with his back to David, and turned to face him once more.

David gave an audible gasp: this was as big as any he had seen at school, except for Garrett's. It was at least as large as those belonging to the fourth-year boys Larkin and Pattison, though this one had absolutely no hair. It was big and hard, sticking up at an angle of about sixty degrees, and the foreskin was slightly open at the tip, so that he could see part of the boy's pee-slit. The balls were quite big, too.

"Of course, next week Benny gets to fuck you," commented Joe. "I bet you're looking forward to that. Go on, then Gerbil, give him a nice suck."

He certainly wasn't looking forward to that: being fucked by Tim and Osterley had been painful enough, and this monstrosity was well over an inch longer than Osterley's, and thicker, too. Taking a deep breath his slipped the end into his mouth.

"That tickles!" giggled the sixer.

"Do it properly for him, or else," said Joe, giving an extra hard thrust for emphasis.

David got on with it. At least Benedict made no attempt to drive it deep into his throat, like Tim had done: he seemed content to just sit on the edge of the armchair with his legs wide apart and let David do all the work. This meant that David didn't have to take the whole thing into his mouth, and by taking hold of the massive organ near the base he was able to make sure it didn't go too far in.

Benedict sat and giggled at him for a while, and then seemed to get more serious.

"Now it feels a bit different," he reported. "Is it meant to feel like that?"

"Probably," said Joe. "Gerbil, stop sucking and just lick it for a minute: I'm nearly there, and once I've finished I can make sure you do it properly for Benny."

He thrust a few more times and then cried out, gripping David's hips and pulling them hard against him, and a few seconds later he withdrew, wiped himself with a couple of tissues, and pulled his pants back on.

"Now you can finish Benny off," said Joe, doing up his shorts. "And he'd better enjoy it if you don't want to be whipped bloody."

David started sliding the huge penis into and out of his mouth again, licking at it and squeezing it with his hand as well as his lips, trying to make this finish. But the ten-year-old seemed able to hold out against his best efforts, though he was wriggling about and gasping by now.

Finally, having almost resigned himself to this going on all night, David forced the naked boy over the edge, and Benedict cried out, bucking up underneath him again and again. At last it was over and he stopped moving, and David slowly slipped it out of his mouth.

It looked huge: the foreskin was completely retracted now, and the head was glistening with saliva (and David was pretty sure that saliva was all there was – at least he hadn't tasted anything else). Benedict stared at himself.

"Wow, it really looks big like that, doesn't it?" he said, before trying to get his foreskin back up. It didn't want to go, but eventually he forced it back into its usual state.

"So, what did that feel like?" Joe asked him.

"Well… gosh… I don't think I can describe it, really. It was like wanting to pee, but different…"

"And was it nice?"

"Oh, wow, yes! Thank you, Gerbil: that felt really funny, but it was really good, too. I really liked it."

"You don't have to say thank you to him," said Roger. "He's our slave: he has to do whatever we tell him.''

"I know," said Benny, looking round for his pants. "But I still think I should say thank you, because it was the best feeling I've ever had… he did it really well, whatever it was. Except now I want to go for a pee. Back in a minute."

"Me, too," said Joe, and followed him out of the room.

David got up, put the footstool back where it belonged, and went and stood in the corner with his hands on his head, as Roger had ordered him to do earlier. It looked as if he might get away without being beaten tonight, and he didn't want to mess up now.

Benny came back, still naked, and started collecting his clothes from the corners of the room, where they had ended up during his striptease. He got dressed, and then said he had to go, and the others checked their watches and found that he was right: this was a bit longer than they usually stayed after cubs. By the time Joe came back from the toilet David was alone in the room.

"Okay, Gerbil, you can get dressed," Joe told him. "I suppose you did pretty well tonight. Of course, next week we'll all get to watch Benny give you one, and that's going to be really funny…"

David didn't think so, but right then next Friday seemed a long way off: first he'd have to survive another week of being buggered by Osterley and forced to suck the first-formers – and five more breaks in the junior form-rooms (and it would be Pope's form's turn again before the end of the week, too) – and before any of that he had to try to masquerade as a girl at Stagg's bloody party. He didn't believe in God, but right then he was praying for the world to end before another sun rose…

Alas, the prayers of the wicked are seldom answered, and I fear another dawn will bring more unpleasant vistas – like whether the Rat really will be able to pass for a girl through an entire party, and, before another week has passed, whether he'll be able to accommodate Benedict without splitting in two. And, of course, we'll also have to find out whether Jordan's plans for Stephens and Baker work out or not…

Chapter Eighteen

In this chapter we'll see what happens when Stephens and Baker get together out in the woods. And, of course, we'll also find out whether David's female impersonation is successful, and what the party in Gloucester actually leads to…

For the second week running, Joe climbed into the attic quite early on the Saturday morning, and this time David was asleep right up to the moment when Joe lay down beside him, pushing him to one side of the mattress.

"What's the time?" he asked, blearily. "Is it time to get up?"

"Nope. I just thought you'd like me to come and keep you company for a bit."

"Why?"

"Why not? I like being up here with you, knowing I can do whatever I want to you. It makes me feel good."

"Good for you. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I'll make you have sex first. I mean, you need all the practice you can get if you're going to be able to cope with Benny next Friday."

"Look, Joe… can't you talk him out of it? I don't think that thing of his will be able to go in, and it'll hurt like hell if he tries."

"It wouldn't be fair not to let him have a go at it, would it? I mean, all the rest of us are going to have done it, so Benny should be allowed to as well. Sorry, Gerbil, you're going to have to get a sore arse."

"Please? I'll even let him… you know, put it in my mouth instead. That's horrible, but at least it doesn't hurt."

"Aha! Gerbil wants to suck Benny! I bet he'll laugh when I tell him…"

"Don't, Joe, please? You now how much I hate all this stuff…"

"That's what makes it such fun. Still… if you ask me nicely, I won't fuck you this morning."

"Okay: please, Joe, don't fuck me – I hate it when you do that."

"Good enough," said Joe. "It's fun making you beg. And you're getting better at it, too: that time you actually sounded as if you meant to be polite, instead of sounding like you wanted to murder me and could barely hide it. Perhaps in the end we can make you into a nice person after all. Bet it takes ages, though… okay, let's go to sleep, then." And he pulled the sleeping bag up over his shoulders and settled down, and David relaxed and fell asleep himself.

Once again he woke up first. Today Joe was cuddled up against him, with his arm around David's waist, still breathing steadily – and once again David found himself thinking how much better it was when the little sod was unconscious: he felt he could almost like the boy, as long as he stayed asleep…

Their faces were only a few inches apart, so he only had to say "Hey, Joe," in a quiet voice to make the other boy stir, and repeating it a little louder got Joe to open his eyes.

"Wow, you really fancy me!" commented Joe. "You don't have to get quite so close, you know. I might catch something."

"You're the one who's too close," David told him. "I'm right against the wall. And it's your arm round me, not the other way around."

"True. Perhaps I don't hate you as much when you're asleep, then."

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing."

Joe grinned at him. "Well, now we're awake, so we can start hating each other again. So, how can I make you hate me most? I know… I'm all hard, so you can suck it for me."

"Oh, God, Joe, do I have to?"

"No, if you prefer I'll ram it up your arse. But I'm in a good mood, so you can choose."

"But I hate both ways!"

"I know, but you're going to have to do it one way or the other – unless you want me to go and get Tim. Then you can do us both at once, one at each end."

"No! I'll do it… if it's really up to me, I'll suck it. At least doing that doesn't make me feel like a girl."

"Perhaps I should fuck you, then, because you're going to have to act like a girl for hours this evening. Maybe it would get you in the mood."

"I don't want to get in the mood," said David. "It's never going to work – someone's bound to be able to tell I'm not a girl, and then I'll get beaten up or something."

"Then you'd better do your best to make sure nobody can tell you're not a girl, hadn't you? Now get on with sucking it, or I really will ram it in you."

David wriggled down under the cover and found that Joe was naked again, his penis jutting up stiffly. He took a deep breath: this was still a totally disgusting thing to have to do, but at least there was no audience here, and Joe didn't have any of that filthy muck to shoot out into his mouth and make him want to puke…

He slid Joe's hard organ into his mouth and began to suck on it the way Osterley had taught him, and soon Joe was wriggling about and pulling David's head against his body. David just wanted to get this over with, so he started using his hands a bit, the way he had with Benedict, and Joe seemed to like that. Really quickly the younger boy reached the point of no return, gasping as it happened to him.

David kept the organ in his mouth until it was over and then wriggled back up to lie beside Joe again, resisting the urge to spit.

"Nice job, Gerbil," Joe told him. "You're getting really good at that: it feels better every time you do it. Keep practising: you'll be a real expert by the summer holidays, then maybe I can get all my mates from school round and charge them ten pence each to have you suck them. They'll really like it if you do it like that, and they'll keep coming back for more, and I'll get rich… I wonder how many cocks you can suck in one day… We'll have to send your photo to the Guinness Book of Records!"

He grinned at David, rolled off the mattress and ran to the hatch.

"Come on," he said, pausing at the top of the ladder, "it's nearly time for breakfast!" And he disappeared down the ladder.

John Baker got off the bus at the stop Jordan had told him to use and found the first-year boy sitting on the bench in the bus-shelter waiting for him.

"Now… you're sure this is going to be okay?" he asked. "He's not suddenly going to turn into Mr Hyde and start strangling me or something, is he?"

"I told you, he's not like that. In fact, if you said you wanted to strangle him, he'd probably let you… well, maybe not, but he's okay, anyway. Come on, or we'll be late, and I don't want him to think we're not coming."

Stephens was waiting for them at their original meeting place, and he still seemed a bit unsure of himself, stammering out a greeting and not looking Baker in the eye.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Nigel," said Jordan, "stop acting like this is your first date… though I suppose maybe it is… anyway, just act normal, like you did with me last time we were here. Let's go to that clearing we found last time. It was nice there."

So he led them to the stream and along it as far as the little clearing.

"Now," he said, "I want you both to strip naked and give me all your clothes. Nigel, I think it would be nice if you told John how we first met, and why you've been doing what I tell you ever since. John, maybe you should tell Nigel what you were doing the first time I saw you, and what happened to you afterwards. That way you'll both see how much you've got in common. I've brought along a few bits and pieces for you to show each other, and once you've got your clothes off I'll swap them for what you're wearing."

They looked at each other uncertainly, but then Baker shrugged and started to undress, and that was enough to get Nigel moving. Jordan stood and watched them as they got undressed, collecting their clothes and putting them into his bag.

They both hesitated when they got down to their pants, but then Baker took a deep breath and pulled his off, and Stephens did the same, and they stood and looked at each other… and Stephens started to get an erection.

"Well, part of you is obviously glad I'm here," commented Baker, grinning.

"Sorry," said Nigel, looking even more flustered. "I just can't help it…"

"Don't worry, you look nice like that."

"Really? I mean, you're not just saying that?"

"No, it looks good. And you've got nice balls, too…"

"I'll leave you two get to know each other, then," said Jordan, collecting their underwear. "Nigel, you can talk to John about these," and he handed the older boy the chain and padlock, with the key in the lock, and his porn magazine. "John, here's a little something for you to talk about," and he handed Baker a short length of pink ribbon. Then he picked up his bag. "I won't be far away – call if you need me," he said. "Or I'll come back in about an hour, just to make sure you haven't murdered each other in the meantime."

He walked off, went a hundred yards or so downstream and sat down on the bank to watch the stream flowing past. For a moment he wished he'd invited Jeremy to come with him: that way he'd have someone to talk to – and maybe to do other things with… but he thought that, while Jeremy would probably like to get undressed outdoors, he might not want to do it with other people around – or not yet, anyway. Perhaps once they'd got used to playing sex games outdoors he'd be happy to join in – and then maybe the four of them could have a proper orgy or something…

Once he had gone, Baker sat down cross-legged, and Nigel sat down opposite him.

"So," he said, "what happened to you? How did Jordan find out that… you know, that you like boys?"

"You go first," invited Baker. "You're older than me. Age before beauty."

Nigel grinned at him. "I'd say we could toss for it, but Jordan's taken everything, including my money. But…"

He took the little key out of his padlock and showed it to Baker, then put both hands behind his back for a moment before bringing them out in front of him. He presented the two closed fists to Baker.

"Guess the hand with the key in, and I'll go first," he said. "Get it wrong, and you go first."

"Fair enough. That one," said Baker, pointing at Nigel's left hand. Nigel opened his hand and showed him that the key was indeed in that hand.

"Okay," said Nigel. "Well… God, this is going to be embarrassing… see, sometimes I used to come out here into the woods and take all my clothes off – it's sort of nice when it's hot, having nothing on – and sometimes I'd… well… you know… I'd… sort of play with myself."

"That's okay, I do that, too. Carry on."

"Well, one Saturday last term I was out here – where I was waiting for you this morning, in fact. I'd taken all my clothes off, and I was… you, know, doing that. I was fantasising about a boy in this magazine," and he handed the magazine to Baker, who took it with interest: he'd seen girly mags before, but never one with naked boys in.

"It's the one on Page Seven, at the top," Nigel went on. "I had my eyes closed, and I was thinking about Nils – that's the boy's name – rubbing it for me, and… well, that's when Jordan caught me."

"He's nice, isn't he?" said Baker, looking at the picture.

"If you had blond hair I think you'd look a bit like that," said Nigel.

"No, I wouldn't – he's miles better looking than me!"

"I don't think so. Anyway, I was lying there doing it, and Jordan suddenly appeared. He grabbed the magazine, my shoes and my pants and jumped into the middle of a bramble-bush, where I couldn't get at him without being torn to pieces. And he said if I didn't do exactly what he told me, he'd take the magazine and my pants to Garrett and use them to get me expelled. And I believed he would, so… so I did what he told me to."

"What was that?"

"Well… I had to tell him all about myself. And he made me admit that I really like playing with myself, and that I do it all the time, almost every day… and he said he had a way to stop me."

"He said he'd report you to Garrett if you didn't stop?"

"No, far worse than that. Look, I'll show you."

He picked up the chain and made a loop in it.

"This won't really work properly on me at the moment, because I'm already stiff, so it would be better if you tried it. Put the loop over your cock and balls, pull it as tight as you can stand and then put the lock through the link next to the loop to keep it closed. Then try making yourself hard and see what it feels like."

Fascinated, Baker took the chain and put it round his genitals, wincing as he tightened it and putting the padlock into place. Then he picked up the magazine again and started browsing, and pretty soon things started to happen – and immediately he got the point of the chain.

"Oh, shit, that hurts!" he exclaimed, trying to get the key back into the lock.

"Leave it for half a minute," said Nigel. "That'll give you a proper idea."

Baker managed to hold out, grimacing, for half a minute, but then he opened the padlock and removed the chain as fast as he could.

"Jordan put that on me and said that if I didn't do exactly what he told me he'd throw away the key," Nigel told him.

"Bloody hell! How long did he make you keep it on?"

"Well, it's been about seven weeks so far. He let me take it off last week to do my exams, but he's going to put it back on once the exams are finished."

"Seven weeks?!!! And you're going to let him put it back on again? You must be out of your mind!"

"I've sworn to let him do it," Nigel said. "And he's got a full confession from me, and if I don't let him chain me up again he's going to spread it all over the school."

"I bet he doesn't. I reckon Fielding's okay, basically. I don't think he'd drop you in it like that."

"Actually, neither do I, but I've promised, anyway."

"But… God, Stephens, that must kill you! How do you manage to sleep at nights with that digging into you?"

"Well, I couldn't, not at first. I had to take aspirin and stuff to get to sleep. But it got a bit easier, and after a bit I didn't go hard quite so much, either. But it's been hard almost all the time since the chain came off, and I'm not allowed to rub it, either, because I swore I wouldn't. And I haven't, so far, which I'm sort of proud of. I was doing it two or three times a day two months ago."

"Bloody hell! I'm glad he didn't do that to me. All I had to wear was this." And he showed Nigel the pink ribbon. He told him the whole story, truthfully and with no omissions, admitting that it had been his idea for him and Larkin to go to the old toilet block by school house and owning up to what he had felt about it. He told Nigel about having to wear the ribbon, and how Jordan had more or less let him off because he took his punishment without whining or trying to get out of it.

"And we've been sort of friends since," he finished. "We both do sex stuff to Larkin together, and it's been good fun. He didn't tell me any of that about you, though – he just said he knew someone who might want to… well… do some sex stuff with me."

"And I didn't even know your name until he introduced us this week. And that proves we can trust him, I think, because he had me completely helpless while the chain was on, and he could have forced me to strip off at school or run round the yard naked, or anything. And he could have told loads of people about me, but it's been obvious that nobody knows or I'd have been torn to shreds at school, which I wasn't. He's kept his word perfectly. So… well, if we did decide to… you know, do stuff together, I reckon we could trust him completely to keep it to himself."

"Me, too. So… are we going to 'do stuff together', then?"

"Well… yes, I'd like that."

"So would I. So what would you like to do first?"

"Oh! Well… I'd like to… well, just touch you – if that's okay?"

"I should think so," agreed Baker, standing up. His penis hadn't yet gone back down, and when he stood up it stuck out straight in front of him.

"Gosh, you do look big like that," said Nigel. "I'm sure you're bigger than me."

"Well, come here and we'll find out."

So Nigel stood up and approached him a little nervously, and Baker gently took hold of Nigel's erection and held it alongside his own.

"I'd say I'm about a quarter inch [5 mm] or so longer," said Baker. "But your balls are a bit bigger and you've got loads more hair than me."

"Yours looks nice," said Nigel, cautiously reaching out as if he expected Baker to shout 'Stop!' at any moment. But Baker didn't say anything, and Nigel took hold of the other boy's hard penis and stroked it gently.

"That feels nice," said Baker. "You can keep doing that if you want."

So Nigel stroked it for a few seconds, and then, growing in confidence, he started to run his hands slowly all down the other boy's body, caressing his chest, back and bum and stoking his arms and legs. He dropped to his knees to allow himself to run his hands right down Baker's legs, and that left his head in exactly the right place…

"Would… would you like me to suck on it for you?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Yes, please," said Baker, with no hesitation at all.

So carefully Nigel slid the stiff member into his mouth and began to suck it in the way that Jordan had taught him.

"Wait a moment," said Baker, after a couple of minutes. "I'll lie down on my back. That'll be more comfortable for both of us.""

So they rearranged themselves on the ground and then Nigel carried on sucking, and before too long Baker underwent a brilliant orgasm.

"God, you're good at that," he said. "That was bloody amazing – thanks, Nigel."

"That's okay, I liked doing it for you. I think yours is really nice. I won't mind doing that whenever you want."

"Brilliant," said Baker happily: he thought this arrangement was definitely going to work out. And… why not, he thought.

"So, would you like me to do that to you?" he asked.

"Wow, yes! But… look, John… I mean… you don't have to. Just because I did it for you, it doesn't mean that you have to do it for me. You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I want to. This time, anyway, just to see what happens. I mean, I should think you'll have quite a bit of spunk, won't you?"

"Well, yes, especially since I haven't touched myself since last weekend."

"Then I'll get to find out what yours tastes like. I hope it's nice… lie on your back, then."

So they swapped places and Baker started to suck. He wasn't all that experienced: Jordan had made him do it for him once, and he'd been made to do it for three boys at the end-of-term dinner, but he didn't know much more about it than Nigel, whose own experience before today was limited to doing it with Jordan a couple of times. Still, Nigel seemed to enjoy it, and it wasn't long before he was starting to wriggle about.

"Tell me when it's about to happen," said Baker, pausing briefly.

"Okay. But… please don't stop."

"I won't." And Baker got on with it again, and Nigel – who of course had never experienced this before – was soon aware that that he was on the brink.

"I'm nearly there, John," he gasped. "It's happening – yes – aaah… aahhhhh… yesss!!!"

Baker wasn't entirely prepared for the amount – there must have been five or six spurts – but it didn't taste bad, and he was able to spit most of it out as soon as Nigel's now soft penis had slipped out of his mouth. But he did swallow a little, just to see how that would feel, and it didn't give him any problem.

"That wasn't too nasty, was it?" asked Nigel, anxiously.

"No, it was okay. And you don't taste bad, either."

"Good. I was a bit worried… thanks, John. That was the first time I ever had that done, and it was really nice."

"Great. So, what do we do now?"

"Well… could we just cuddle for a bit, until we feel ready for something else? Only I need a bit of a rest now."

"Cuddle?"

"Only if you don't mind, of course," said Nigel, hastily. "But it's nice – at least, it was when I did it with Jordan."

"Well, I'll give it a try. What do we do?"

"Well, I stay lying here on my back, and you lie down on top of me facing me, and then we just relax."

And when Jordan came back a short while later, that's how he found them, with their arms round each other and talking happily.

"Looks like you're getting on okay with each other," he said. "I'll be off, then. See you both at school."

And he put their clothes down beside them and then walked away and left them to it.

After lunch David and the three Devlin children caught the bus into Cheltenham and made their way to the Devlin's house. Molly's friend Rosie and her older sister Carol had arranged to meet them there, and Carol, with a certain amount of help from Rosie and Molly, spent an hour or so with David teaching him the basics of make-up. She'd been told that David was doing this for a bet, as that had seemed an easier explanation than the real one, and so she treated him with rather more respect than Molly and Rosie had the previous week.

By the time she had finished her instruction David was capable of applying his own lipstick and at least touching up everything else, though Carol advised him that he wouldn't need a lot of make-up in the first place.

"If you overdo it, you'll look like a tart," she said. "You're pretty enough not to need a lot… okay, maybe you don't want to be called 'pretty', but you are, sort of… so keep it light. Rosie says your hair looks best brushed back, so I'll see if I can sort that out for you next, and then you can try on the clothes I've found for you…"

She'd found him some quite nice clothes, including a training bra that had been padded out a little, and once the blouse went on over the top of it nobody would have guessed that his contours weren't genuine.

Michael Stagg and his brother arrived about tea-time, and so did Mark Sherwood, who lived a couple of houses away from the Staggs and wanted to see how David looked. And all three of them were impressed.

"God, Villiers-Gore, you look bloody amazing!" said Michael. "There's absolutely no way anyone's going to guess you're really a boy!"

"He isn't," said Joe, grinning. "Not a proper one, anyway."

"Shut up, Joe," said David. "Look, Stagg, do we really have to do this? I don't care what you say, I still reckon someone's going to see through me before we've been there five minutes."

"No, they won't," said Michael. "If I thought there was any risk of that I wouldn't take you, but you look perfect. What do the rest of you reckon?"

"He looks really sweet," said Sherwood, grinning. "Perhaps we should make him come to school like that, complete with the make-up…"

"If he buggers this up tonight, we will," said Tim. "So you'd better try really hard to persuade everyone you're a girl, Gerbil, or next week you'll be going to school exactly like you are now."

Michael and David walked to the bus station and caught the bus to Gloucester, sitting together towards the back of what was a fairly empty bus, so there was nobody close enough to listen to what they were saying to each other.

"Can you dance?" asked Michael.

"No! Oh, God… I suppose we're going to have to dance together, too!"

"I should think so. Look, it's okay, I'm no good at dancing, either. Normally at parties I just stand around near the door with a drink in my hand… oh, and for God's sake, don't get drunk! You'd be sure to let something slip… and if you need to pee, remember to head for the girls' toilets, too…"

"Don't worry – I'm even more worried about this than you. You can bet I'll be bloody careful all evening… look, how long do we have to stay?"

"A couple of hours should be enough – we can tell them we have to catch the last bus home, which will be true enough. Actually, now I've seen you, I'm nothing like as worried as I was – like I said, you look amazing."

And that seemed to be the general opinion when they reached the church hall where Michael's friend was holding his fifteenth birthday party, too: their host took one look at David and his jaw dropped.

"Wow, Mikey," he said, "why didn't you tell me you'd found a proper girlfriend at last?"

"Wanted to surprise you," he said.

"Well, you did that okay. What's your name?" he asked David.

That was a nasty shock: they hadn't even thought about the need for a suitable name. He certainly wasn't going to answer to 'Daisy', which was what Michael had called him before.

"Valerie," said Michael, whose brain was working a little faster. "Valerie Gore. Val, this is Simon. Like I told you, we've been friends since primary school."

"Hello, Val," said Simon. "What on earth are you doing going out with this loser?"

David thought about that for a moment. He briefly considered answering more or less truthfully by saying that he was being coerced into being here, but then he thought that, lower-class peasant though Michael was, he was still a lot less obnoxious than Simon seemed to be at first glance. So he said, "He's alright, really. Most people just look at him and see his hair, but once you get to know him he's got a really nice personality."

Which of course was a polite way of saying that he was ugly, but he thought maybe neither of them would realise that, and Simon, at least, didn't seem to.

"You're a lucky bastard, Mikey," he said. "I can't believe a beautiful girl like this would actually agree to go out with an ugly git like you. You must be paying her, or something."

"He isn't," said David. "I'm here of my own free will," and he hooked his arm round Michael's, towed him out of earshot, and added, "more or less," in a whisper.

"Thanks," said Michael. "That's sorted him out for all the snide remarks he's given me."

They went and found the drinks table, which was entirely non-alcoholic, and had a Coke each. The party began to get going: they danced with each other a couple of times, making no more of a hash of it than any of the other couples. A little later David went to the toilet (remembering to use the right one) and repaired his lipstick, and then had to survive what might have been a tricky moment when a couple of girls came in and started talking to him. But it was obvious that they didn't suspect, and in fact they were friendly, whispering to him that there were a couple of bottles of cider in a cupboard behind the cloakroom, and he thought it would be no bad idea to have a glass or two, provided he was careful not to overdo it.

The glass or two relaxed him enough that he actually began to enjoy himself a little. After a bit Simon cornered him and asked for a dance, and even when a slow number came on David didn't run away, allowing the birthday boy to hold him close as they swayed to the music. And a minute or two into the dance Simon accidentally got a bit too close, and David could feel that he had an erection.

He was hard-pressed not to burst out laughing, wondering how Simon would react if he found out he was getting hard through dancing with a boy, but he managed to keep a straight face.

"I still don't understand why you would want to go out with Mikey," said Simon. "Doesn't that bright red hair put you off?"

"No, I think it looks good," said David. He hesitated, but the cider had done its job, and so mischievously he continued, "and it looks absolutely brilliant round his balls, too. There aren't any freckles there, though."

Simon's jaw dropped.

"What, you mean… what, you… you've actually… done it with him?"

"Well, not all the way. Actually, I'd never done anything with a boy before, but Mikey's so nice I thought it might be fun to see what he looks like down there – I didn't know if his hair would be the same colour or not. But it is, and when you get really close, like I did when I was sucking him, it sort of shines like gold."

That had the desired effect, too: Simon was so shocked he stopped dancing and just stared at him.

"You haven't!" he gasped, in disbelief.

"Yes, I have. Only once so far, but I'm sure we'll do it again. I wasn't really sure about it, to be honest, because I'd never done it before, but he liked it so much – and his stuff tasted so nice, and there was so much of it, too – that I'm sure we'll do it again. I'm sure you know for yourself how nice it feels."

"Oh! Well… yes, of course," said Simon, blatantly lying. "But… I wouldn't mind if you wanted to show me how you do it."

"Certainly not! I'd never do that for anyone except Michael!" And David flounced off, feeling thoroughly pleased with himself.

By the time Michael came and said that they ought to be going, David had had another couple of ciders and was enjoying himself no end, loving the feeling of being able to pull the wool over everyone's eyes. He drew Michael off to one side, stood where he was sure Simon could see them, and then kissed Michael on the lips. It took Michael a moment to react, but then he returned the kiss, and when they came up for air a few seconds later David whispered "Look at Simon's face," to him.

Michael turned round and saw Simon staring at him, almost green with envy. He took David's arm and led him over to their host.

"We've got to go," he said. "It's been a brilliant party, Si – thanks for asking me. Bye!"

"Bye, Simon," added David. "It was fun. I enjoyed dancing with you, too."

They walked to the bus station.

"Thanks, Villiers-Gore," said Michael. "That went brilliantly. I bet he doesn't tease me about not having a girlfriend again."

"That's okay. It was sort of fun, actually. And you were right about nobody guessing. Simon certainly didn't – he got a stiffie when I was dancing with him."

That made Michael burst out laughing, and when David added that he'd told Simon about sucking Michael off, he laughed even more.

"God, he'll die of jealousy," he said. "I bet he's never even had a girl touch him, far less suck him. That's brilliant…"

They got on the bus and rode most of the way back to Cheltenham in silence.

"Look, Villiers-Gore… you've been brilliant tonight," said Michael, as the bus entered Cheltenham. "I know we more or less made you do this, but you could have easily messed things up for me if you'd wanted. Why didn't you?"

"Well… obviously I didn't want anyone at the party knowing I'm a boy, so I wasn't going to do anything that might make them wonder. But apart from that… I don't know, really. I suppose I looked at you and then looked at Simon and decided I liked you more. You're okay, really, and I can remember when I first came to KEV that everyone used to take the piss out of your hair, the same way they did out of mine. I mean, it's about all we've got in common, but still…"

"Well, thanks, anyway. Look… I know you've been getting a hard time lately, both at school and at home. If I'm honest I'd have to say that I reckoned you deserved it, especially considering the way you used to get kids into trouble all the time… but, I don't know, maybe it's going a bit too far now. And I owe you for tonight. There's nothing I can do about what's happening to you, but… well… if you like, you can come round to my house after school one evening a week and sleep over. That would at least give you one night a week when nobody was beating you up, or anything."

David stared at him. "Seriously?" he asked. "What would I have to do to get that – suck your cock every day, or something?"

"No, nothing like that. I mean, I really liked it when you sucked me, but I'm not going to make you do it again if you don't want. No, you could just come round to my house, we could do our homework together, and then watch TV or something. We'd be equals. I wouldn't make you do anything. Okay?"

"Well… yes, then, I'd like that. Obviously. But I'm not sure the Devlins would allow it."

"We'll tell them I want to whip you, or do sex stuff to you all night, or something. They won't mind you being away from home if they think you're being punished."

"Okay," said David. He knew that Michael lived on the council estate, and so was basically just a peasant, but this was still an offer he couldn't possibly refuse. So when he got home he told Tim that Michael had so enjoyed having a girlfriend that he wanted him to go and stay overnight with him every week, so that he could do all the other stuff you normally do with girls. And once Tim and spoken to Michael about it the following Monday he was quite happy for the arrangement to go ahead.

"Wednesdays," Tim told him. "You go round to Michael's house after school every Wednesday, and while you're there you do exactly what he tells you, okay? Because if you don't we'll beat the shit out of you."

But before Wednesday evening came round David had to get through two more days of hell. He'd survived break with 2B on the Monday – Dhif hadn't actually taken part in the mass molestation, but he had sat and smirked while his class-mates played with David's genitals, making him hard and taunting him. But at least nobody had fucked him. But on the Tuesday it was 1C's turn, and while Jordan had done his best to distract his form-mates by stripping Larkin off and beating him at the start of break, quite a few were only too keen to take advantage of the Rat for a change. Harwood and one other boy tried fucking him, but without success, and then he was beaten with Harwood's belt until he was crying. Once again Osterley had to help him back to the music block to get changed afterwards.

The lunch break was no fun, either: today Osterley pushed his cock up David's arse as before, but then simply lay on top of him without moving.

"Now you can start sucking the others," Osterley told him, "and you can keep doing it until I get excited. So if you want to be finished before the end of break you're going to have to give me the feeling without my help."

So David had to try wriggling and squeezing and doing everything he could to make Osterley excited while at the same time sucking Little Collins and the first-years, one after the other. Eventually he found a technique of clenching and relaxing his muscles that did the job, but it took almost a quarter of an hour to do it.

"That was pretty good, Rat," said Osterley. "I enjoyed that. You can do it like that again tomorrow. Of course, you might not be able to do anything tomorrow: you've got 2C at break again, and I know Pope's looking forward to seeing you."

After school David walked round to the Devlins' house with Sherwood and the Stagg brothers. Michael didn't say a lot, but Julian pointed out that he still hadn't been sucked, and that David certainly owed him one.

"I won't be able to do it tonight," said David. "I'm sure there'll be loads of housework waiting for me."

"If you don't do it tonight, you'll have to do it tomorrow," said Julian, firmly. "You've done it for everyone else, and I want my turn."

And of course when the matter was raised with Tim, Tim said that of course David would have time to suck Julian before starting on his housework. So as soon as he had undressed David was pushed to his knees in front of the armchair, and Julian removed his shorts and pants and came and sat in front of him, his small erection quivering. It wasn't a lot bigger than David's own, and it took quite a while to make him excited, too, but eventually David was able to make it happen, and the first-year boy's reaction was much the same as his brother's had been.

"Blimey, Mikey, now I know why you liked that so much," he said. "Its magic, isn't it? I'm definitely going to make him do that again."

David had barely stood up when the door opened and George and Roger came in.

"Oh, good, he's here," said George. "Well, don't just stand there, Gerbil: you have to come and kiss our feet, remember?"

The rest of that evening was no fun at all for David: the Staggs and Sherwood went home, but George and Roger took him up to the boys' bedroom, beat him and made him suck them both, twice each, and that left him with hardly any time for cleaning the house. He cried most of the way home, drawing absolutely no sympathy from the Devlins.

And Wednesday break was every bit as bad as he had feared: Pope had him stripped naked almost as soon as he was inside the classroom, and by the end of break he had been gang-fucked by five of Pope's friends. And this time, those who had been worried about getting into trouble last time were happy to join in the abuse, since nothing had happened the previous week, suggesting that they really could get away with doing this.

David limped into the first class after break still crying a little. He sat down gingerly, and was surprised when Michael Stagg came and sat next to him: normally nobody wanted to sit next to him, and as there was an odd number of boys in the form, usually the place next to him remained vacant.

"Bad one?" asked Michael, in a low voice.

David nodded, and to his even greater surprise Michael took his hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

"At least you'll get a quiet evening tonight," he said, and then let go of David's hand and got his books out ready for the lesson.

Just that one moment of sympathy got David through to lunch time, and then he got another surprise when Osterley said that he thought David's arse had taken enough of a pounding for one day.

"I'll fuck you again tomorrow," he said. "All you have to do now is suck Lithgow and Downing, because they didn't get a turn yesterday, and then we'll let you go for the day."

He still didn't enjoy having to suck the two first-years, of course, but this was a hell of a lot better than the way he'd spent break. And after school, though he was still a bit suspicious of the way Michael was being nice to him, he went to the Staggs' house. Michael took him up to his bedroom, and at first David thought his suspicions were going to be well-founded, because Michael immediately told him to get undressed, but as soon as the female uniform was off Michael handed him a shirt and a pair of his own trousers.

"These will be a bit long on you, but at least you won't have to go through the evening dressed as a girl," he said. "If they're really too long you can borrow a pair of Julian's shorts, but I suppose you'd prefer longs if possible."

They were a bit long, but by rolling up the legs a little they were manageable, and the shirt wasn't a bad fit, and even though he didn't have any pants on underneath the trousers, David immediately felt a whole lot better once he was wearing boys clothes again.

"Now, Mum gets home in about an hour," said Michael, "and we usually try to get our homework done before supper if we can, because then we can watch telly in peace. Is that okay with you?"

David nodded, so they sat down and helped each other through their homework. This was something David had never done before: he'd been quite happy without friends, but he realised now that it was nice to have someone to work things out with if he didn't actually know the answers.

David was introduced to Michael's parents as 'a friend from school' (and Julian's snort of laughter was successfully disguised as a cough). He was polite to them, ate (and actually quite enjoyed) supper, and then sat and watched TV with them all, which of course was something he had not been able to do for a long time at home.

At bedtime Michael took David back up to his room.

"Now, there are three ways we can do this," he said. "One: you sleep in the sleeping bag on the carpet and I have the bed. Two: you get the bed, I get the bag. Three: we share the bed. Frankly, that would be best, because the floor's pretty hard, but it's up to you."

David looked at him doubtfully.

"Don't you think you can trust me by now?" asked Michael, seeing that look.

David wasn't used to trusting anyone, especially not the lower orders, but he had to admit that Michael had played entirely fair with him so far. And the floor did look hard…

"Okay, we'll share," he said.

"Good. I don't suppose you've got any pyjamas with you, have you? No, I thought not. Well, when the weather's warm, like it is right now, I usually only wear a pair of shorts in bed. I'll find you a pair, too, if that's okay?"

"Really? Thanks… I mean, I'm not usually allowed to wear anything in bed."

"Well, I don't mind if you want to sleep naked. I used to myself in the summer…"

"No, I'll take the shorts, thanks, if it's okay with you."

So Michael undressed and put on a pair of gym shorts, and he handed David a pair of rugby shorts, and once they were ready they got into bed and Michael turned the light out.

"You feeling better now?" Michael asked him.

"Yes, thanks, loads better."

"So what happened to you at break, then?"

"Well…" David didn't want to talk about it, but he was pretty sure that if he didn't answer the question, Michael would be able to find out simply by asking Sherwood.

"Okay, I got fucked," he went on. "By five different kids in 2C, one after the other."

"Shit! No wonder you looked so bloody awful at the start of French, then! Bloody hell, Villiers-Gore – how the hell can you stand it?"

"I don't know. I don't think I'll be able to much longer. It's supposed to be over at half term, but I don't know if I can last that long…"

And David felt himself starting to cry again, and he hated himself for being so weak in front of a council house boy, but he just couldn't help it. And Michael wriggled a bit closer and put his arm round him.

"Christ," he said, "I know I said we all thought you deserved to be punished, but not like this – that's way over the top! And you have to put up with that every break?"

"Well… it's only really 2C who go that far. But the other forms strip me and… touch me – you know – and some of them beat me, and…"

Michael hugged him. "Look, I promise you'll be safe here," he said. "And I'll try to wangle another night in the week as well, if I can. But what I don't understand is why you behaved so stupidly in the first place, sneaking round the Head Boy and looking down your nose at everyone. Didn't you realise what would happen when Garrett left school?"

"No – but I don't think I did anything wrong. All I was doing was reporting people who broke school rules to Garrett. If they hadn't broken the rules, nothing would have happened to them… well… okay, there were a couple of cases where… but that doesn't really matter. But I didn't do anything to deserve what's happening to me now."

"Well, you did act all snobby to us all. And what did you do to upset the Devlins so much? They don't even go to our school."

"Their mother was our housekeeper, and her kids wouldn't stick to their part of the house – the servants' end, I mean. So I shouted at them a couple of times. But that's all I did. And… okay, maybe you're right about me acting a bit… well…"

"Snobby?"

"Yes, that – but, I mean, you lot do live on a council estate, after all…"

"So what?"

"Well… " David realised that he had to be careful here: Stagg had provided him with a chance to escape the Devlins once a week, and it sounded like that might even go up to twice a week, and he didn't want to jeopardise that.

"See, it's hard for me to relate to people like you, because my father came from a noble family, and there's a class difference…"

"Oh, right," said Michael, taking his arm away, "so you're not supposed to mix with proles like me."

"Well… sort of… but that's just how I was brought up. And… look, Stagg, you've been decent to me, and… I'm really grateful…"

"You probably think I should be in the sleeping bag on the floor, don't you?"

"No! Actually, probably I should, and I'm glad you didn't make me… and… well… I don't think it matters, where we both come from. You've been far nicer to me than any of the kids who live in private houses like mine. So I'm sorry I looked down on you before. I didn't know what you were really like then."

"Okay," said Michael. "But, look, Villiers-Gore…"

"Call me V-G," interrupted David. "Or David, if you like. It's a lot shorter."

"Okay. Then I'm Michael. Or Mikey, if that isn't too common for you… okay, sorry, that's a bit nasty. But you need to treat people as individuals, David: if you just judge people by what they're wearing or where they live, you'll never find out what they're really like. There are loads of different people on this estate, just like there are loads of different people who live in places like yours. Some are nice, some are nasty, and the only way to find out which is which is to talk to them individually, and not to just stick a label on everyone and then ignore anyone whose label is less… well, snobby, than yours. I think we could be friends, even though I'm not upper class like you think you are."

"I think so, too," said David, though he rather resented being told that he only thought he was upper class, when it was obviously the case. Still, it was true that Stagg had treated him better than any of the better class kids at school, so maybe some of what he said was true.

"Anyhow, I'll try to get you another night here, if you want," Michael went on. "As long as you don't expect me to tug my forelock all the time and call you 'Milord'."

"I'd like that. Thanks, Michael."

"Good. Now let's get some sleep." And Michael rolled over and settled down.

You're probably thinking that things are looking up for the Rat now – after all, he seems to have found a sympathetic ear and an ally. But in fact this relationship is going to cause him even more grief than the ones he has with Osterley or the Devlins. All will become clear in due course…

Chapter Nineteen

In this chapter things seem to be improving a bit for the Rat, although starring in the Red Six's S&M film maybe isn't quite what he would have chosen to do. But his relationship with the Devlins seems to be getting better, and now he's got Michael Stagg on his side, so surely his life is bound to improve a bit…

Wrong.

David was woken up the following morning by Michael moving about, and as he opened his eyes he saw Michael get out of bed and stand up.

"Is it time to get up?" he asked, sleepily.

"Not yet. Sorry – I was trying not to wake you up."

"What's wrong, then?"

"Well…" Michael turned the bedside light on. "It's a bit embarrassing… see, I've… I've had a wet dream."

"Oh. What was it about?"

"I can't remember now," said Michael, though he couldn't meet David's eyes as he said it. Fortunately for him, David didn't notice.

"And… what, you've actually had stuff come out in your shorts? I mean, I've heard that it happens… I didn't realise it would wake you up, though."

"Of course it does – it makes you all wet."

"Let's see, then."

"Well… okay, seeing as how I woke you up." And Michael slipped his shorts down, and David could see spunk on his groin and in his ginger pubes.

"I suppose that'll happen to me one day, if I ever reach puberty," said David. "Well, go and clean yourself up, and I'll keep the bed warm."

Michael went to the bathroom and came back naked, slipping back into bed and turning the light back off.

"We've got another hour or so before we have to get up," he said. "I haven't got another pair of shorts, but it won't happen to me twice in one night. Still, I bet you're glad I was wearing shorts to start with, or it might have shot all over you."

"Yes, that would have been pretty disgusting. Is that why you started wearing shorts in the summer?"

"Yes – after I'd made a mess on the sheets a couple of times I thought it would be safer. It was really embarrassing, thinking about mum changing the bed and seeing… well, you get the idea. But if it's just my spare PE shorts I don't think she'll notice."

"I suppose not." David just wished it was an issue for him, too, but at his current rate of progress he reckoned Joe Devlin would reach puberty before he did. Sighing, he settled back to sleep.

He woke up again when Michael's alarm went off. Michael woke up too and turned it off.

"Morning, David," he said.

"Morning, Michael. Again."

"Yes… look, don't tell Jules about me having a wet dream, will you? He'd fall about laughing at me. I mean, he knows I have them, because he caught me cleaning up one morning and I told him about it – I don't keep secrets from my brother. But if he knew it had happened to me while you were sharing my bed… well, you can imagine what he'd say."

"I won't."

"Thanks. Oh, well, I suppose we should get up… look, David, don't laugh, but I've got an erection."

"What, even after… Okay, I won't laugh."

Michael got out of bed, his erection jutting in front of him, and David – who was stiff himself, as he was most mornings, but who hoped the shorts would conceal it, climbed out after him. But the shorts obviously didn't do a good enough job.

"You, too, I see," said Michael, looking at his waist. "Go on, then, take the shorts off and let me see."

David obviously didn't want to, but it was hard to refuse when Michael was already naked himself, and he really didn't want to do anything that might put an end to his evenings away from the Devlins. So he slipped the shorts off and straightened up, allowing Michael to see him.

"Crumbs," said Michael. "That's… well…"

"Tiny," finished David. "Thanks, but I already know that."

"Sorry. I just thought maybe it would get a bit bigger when you got hard… still, everything's there, and you're bound to start growing soon…" He seemed unable to tear his eyes away from David's little penis, but eventually he blinked and said, "Come on, then – let's go and grab the bathroom before Jules gets there."

By the time they reached the bathroom Michael's penis had subsided and he was able to pee without any problem, though David's was still hard and so he had to wait. They washed and cleaned their teeth, and then finally David was able to pee, though he wasn't comfortable doing it in front of Michael, even though he regularly had to pee in public at home, often with Molly and Joe staring at him.

"I'll go and get dressed," said Michael, tactfully, and that allowed David to pee in peace. He rinsed his hands once more and followed Michael back to the bedroom.

He wore the clothes Michael had lent him down to breakfast, changing into the girls' uniform afterwards, by which time Michael's parents had both left to go to work. And when he finally reached his form room, having first reported to Osterley and changed into his shorts, he found that Michael had already sat down in the seat next to his.

"I reckon if I show you a bit of moral support, the others might ease back on you a bit," he explained.

"Okay. Thanks, Michael."

Today it was 2A's turn again at break, and as they had previously they confined their attention to stripping David off and taunting him, and he thought he could handle that. And at lunchtime things got even better: when he got to the music block he found Osterley on his own.

"Look, Rat," Osterley told him, "you've still got another two and a bit weeks to go, but… frankly, I'm getting a bit bored with it. And to be honest you've taken it all pretty well, too – oh, I know you've moaned and whinged, but you've turned up for every single break, which is more than I expected at the start. So… from next week I'm going to ease back on you a bit. You'll finish the current round, so that every form has had a chance to deal with you twice, but after that your breaks will be free. At lunchtimes you have to come here at the start of the break, but if none of us has turned up after five minutes, you can go."

"Oh… well… thanks, Osterley. I really mean it – that's really good of you…"

"Yes, well, maybe I'm not as sadistic as you. There is one snag, though: Pope wants a bit more time with you, so you'll have to do what he wants before you're free – well, of course you've still got Dhif after half term, so you won't be free as such, but you won't have to worry about me any more. Pope's coming here in a few minutes, and he'll tell you what he wants then. And I might decide to fuck you some more before half term – that's fun, after all. But… if I am going to let you off some of your punishment, I want you to swear you'll never grass kids up at this school again."

"I swear," said David, without hesitation – after all, he knew Blackman certainly wouldn't want his input during his year in charge.

"Okay. I should tell you that Bertie thinks I'm mad, letting you off, and he might want to beat you a few times before half term, but I'll try to stop him overdoing it. Downing and Lithgow are happy to let you off, but I think Sherwood and McMillan might want another couple of sessions with you… Okay, stay here and I'll go and see if I can find Pope."

He went out, and David sat down to think. After what he had done to Osterley last term, he'd never expected the third-year boy to settle for less than his full four weeks' worth of retribution, so this was a real surprise, and very welcome. He knew that if he'd been in Osterley's place there would have been no question of anything less than maximum punishment. He thought Osterley was a fool for not enforcing that himself, but at the same time he was deeply grateful, and that felt strange, too: he'd never have believed he could feel gratitude to someone he'd hated as much as he had hated Osterley.

Five minutes later Osterley came back with Pope.

"Ian tells me he's thinking of letting you off some of your punishments," Pope told him. "I don't think you deserve to be let off anything, but if that's what Ian wants… Still, he says I can have you for a little while yet, so once you've finished with the other forms next week you can come back and see us again. See, so far nine of us have managed to shag you, and it wouldn't be fair to the rest of the form if they didn't get a chance to do the same thing, would it?"

"But…" began David, looking horrified: there were twenty-eight boys in 2C, and the thought of being publicly fucked by nineteen more was appalling.

"Don't worry, we're not going to keep doing it over the teacher's desk," Pope went on. "Some of them are too shy to do it like that. So we're going to put you in the book store, and we'll send them in to see you, one by one. You won't be held down or tied up or anything: you'll just have to co-operate. If you don't, we'll whip you till you bleed and then the whole form will get another three goes each, so you'd better do whatever they tell you.

"The problem is that I can't remember who's already done stuff to you and who hasn't, so we're all going to have a turn. But I reckon not too many will actually want to fuck you. Some might prefer to have themselves sucked, which Ian says he's made you do once or twice, and some might just want you to rub it for them. And some probably won't want to do anything with you at all, but you're going to give them the chance, all the same. As soon as you've done it for every boy in 2C we'll let you go. You can start next Thursday, because Ian says you'll have finished with all the other forms by then. Okay?"

It certainly wasn't okay, but David didn't think it would do any good to say so, so instead he just shrugged.

"Good," said Pope. "And now, since I'm here, you can show me what it feels like to be sucked. Ian says it feels really nice."

He pulled his trousers and pants down and sat on the edge of the table, and David, who was still completely dressed – nobody had ordered him to strip – knelt in front of him and began to suck it. And Pope enjoyed every moment of it.

"That's excellent," he said, doing his trousers up afterwards. "It's almost as good as shagging you. I'm sure I'll want you to do that again before we let you go." And he grinned at Osterley and left the room.

"Okay, see you after school," said Osterley. "Oh, one other thing: once you've seen 1C on Wednesday we won't bother with the girl's uniform any more, you can just wear the shorts full-time. That'll save me having to come here every morning and after school to get you changed. I'll tell Sherwood, and he can tell the kids who live with you."

"Thanks, Osterley," said David, gratefully: that would mean no more horrible bus trips, having his skirt pulled up by boys – and worse, girls – from other schools. He thought that maybe he would survive to half-term, after all.

That lunchtime Jordan bumped into Baker in the yard.

"So, did everything work out with you and Stephens?" he asked.

"Yes, it was brilliant – thanks, Jordan! It turns out that it was his sixteenth birthday on Monday, and it's my fourteenth today, so at the weekend we're going to get together and celebrate. We're going to the cinema, and afterwards we thought we might go for another walk in the woods…"

"So you're actually going on a date after all, even though you said you didn't think you'd want to do stuff like that?"

"That was before I got to know him. He's really nice, Jordan – and you were right: he's happy to do anything I want. After you went on Saturday he asked if I wanted to… you know, put it in him, and when I said I'd like that but didn't think I'd want him to do it to me, he said, 'Oh, that's okay – I don't want to do it to you, anyway. It felt so good when Jordan did it to me that that's all I really want to do – as long as you don't mind, of course.' So I did it to him, and we both really, really enjoyed it, and he said he'd like us to do it like that whenever we get together. It's really like I'm the older one, not him. And I'm bigger than him, too – okay, only by a little bit, but mine is definitely longer, and a bit thicker, too, and he says that that's why I should do the boy stuff when we have sex while he does the girl stuff. I think we're going to be really good friends, Jordan, and it's all down to you. So if you want to come and watch us doing stuff together, you can, whenever you want."

"I might do that, but not until you're properly used to being together. Really this sort of stuff ought to be private – I mean, I know my friend Jeremy wouldn't want us to do stuff together if anyone was watching us."

"Well, I certainly don't mind, and Nigel says he doesn't, either – after all, if it hadn't been for you, we'd never have got together."

Baker walked away happily, leaving Jordan thinking that it might be fun to go and watch them sometime, but that actually it was more fun doing stuff than just watching other people doing it. He decided it was time that he and Jeremy spent some more time together – and if Charlie wanted to come along as well, that would be even better. They hadn't actually done anything sexual with Charlie yet apart from that one session at Charlie's house: maybe it was time to see how Charlie would react to the idea of being fucked…

1A let David down lightly again, just making him tidy their form room in his girls' clothes, and at lunchtime the only person to turn up at the music block was Little Collins.

"I've told Ian he's mad to let you off," Little Collins told him. "You wouldn't have let him off early, would you?"

"To be honest, no, I wouldn't," admitted David. "Which I suppose makes him a much better person than me."

"Dead right, he is! If it had been up to me I'd have had you whipped naked in front of the whole school, every day."

"Yes, but if you'd done that the teachers would have been sure to stop it," David pointed out. "At least by keeping it under cover you can make it last longer."

"I suppose. But I still don't think you've had anything like enough punishment to make up for what you did to him."

"You really like him, don't you?"

"So what?"

"No, I mean that's a good thing. Okay, he had a really shit time last term, but he's made a really good friend at the same time."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't be punished properly."

"I know. Look, Collins, for what it's worth I agree with you. I've been thinking about it since yesterday. I don't regret for a moment reporting all those kids who were actually breaking school rules, but in Osterley's case… well, he hadn't done anything wrong, and I dropped him in it really badly. And now that I've had a chance to see what he's really like, I am sorry about it. You might not believe me, but it's true."

"It's not easy believing anything you say," said Little Collins. "And frankly I don't care what you say now: I was there last term, and I saw what you were like then. And that's why I think you still need to be punished. Get undressed."

David removed his clothes, and Little Collins took his off at the same time.

"I still can't believe you're two years older than me," said Little Collins, once they were both naked. "Anyone looking at us now would think we're the same age… we're the same height, our cocks and balls are the same size, we're both skinny, and we're both pretty crap at anything physical… can you fight?"

David shook his head.

"Me, neither," said Little Collins. "Okay, then, I'll give you a chance: we'll wrestle. If you win I'll let you off; if I win, you get whipped, and I'll make you suck me, too. Okay?"

David knew he couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag, but Collins wasn't exactly over-endowed with muscle, either, so: "Okay," he agreed.

They moved the table out of the way and grabbed each other. Fighting another boy who was also completely naked was something David hadn't done before, and it felt strange, especially after Collins got an erection: feeling the hard little organ rubbing against his body felt really weird. They were fairly evenly matched, but after a couple of minutes Collins managed to get on top of him and pin him down.

"Now submit," the second-year demanded, and once his ear had been twisted a couple of times David capitulated.

"Good. Now you can give me a nice suck. If I really enjoy it and think you've tried hard to make me feel nice, maybe I won't whip you so hard."

Little Collins rolled over onto his back, and David took up a position between his legs and started to suck on the rigid little organ. Although by now he'd been forced to do this for a lot of different boys, David still hated it, but if he had to choose he'd much rather do it for a boy with a really small one and no spunk, like Little Collins, than for one with a big one that would fill his mouth with the horrible stuff, like Tim or Michael. So he did his absolute best, using his hands as well, and the younger boy wriggled and writhed beneath him, obviously enjoying every moment.

"Stop!" cried Little Collins, after four or five minutes, and he pushed David away.

"Was that okay?" asked David.

"It hasn't happened to me yet, and I don't want it to happen too quickly, either: that's why I stopped you. We'll wait for a bit and then you can start again. But you're doing pretty well so far – keep going like that and I won't complain."

By keeping a careful eye on his watch and stopping every time he got too close, Little Collins was able to make David keep sucking him for almost the whole break. When he finally allowed David to finish him off it was as good an orgasm as he had yet experienced, and consequently once he was dressed he only beat David three times with his belt, and nothing like as hard as he could have done it, either.

"Get dressed," he said, threading his belt back onto his trousers. "You did that really well, so I'm not going to beat you any more than that."

David put his clothes back on gratefully, and Little Collins ushered him back out into the yard, and that was another school week successfully survived: two more weeks and he'd be free… well, okay, there was still Dhif to come, but he wasn't too worried about that, because after all, apart from that short session after the Prefects' Meal, he hadn't actually done anything to Dhif. He expected to be beaten, and maybe given a couple of quick sex punishments to make up for Dhif being fucked by Fielding and having to suck Southgate, and he thought he could survive that – and then it really would all be over.

Of course, this week wasn't quite finished, because tonight was cubs night, and after school David had to go to the Devlins' house and accompany Joe to the meeting as usual. Again, the actual meeting was okay, and although his fellow Reds did tease him quietly, they treated him properly in front of the other sixes and the leaders. But once the meeting was over he was taken back to the Devlins' house, and then things went steeply downhill.

For a start, Roger had managed to get his hands on his father's videocam. These were fairly new on the market and quite expensive, so David had hoped Roger had been bluffing, and he was very disappointed to find out that the camera really existed. And apparently Roger fancied himself as a film director, too, because he got the camera set up and then immediately took charge.

"First I want to film Gerbil getting undressed," he said. "George, I want you to take the riding crop and hit him with it if he refuses to strip… hang on, maybe we can make this look even better…"

He thought for a moment, popped a cassette into a cassette recorder he'd brought with him and checked that the microphone was pointing the right way.

"Now we can have sound too," he said. "Okay, now… Gerbil, go and wait in the kitchen. The rest of you, come here and I'll explain what I want to do."

So David went to the kitchen and waited there until Philip came to collect him.

"Right, Gerbil," said Joe. "Roger's going to film this sort of like it's a proper story – you're being punished for letting us all down. There's a little bit on the front of the film that explains that bit, and we did it while you were in the kitchen, so you haven't got to worry about it. Now obviously you could mess this up really easily if you wanted – moving away from the camera, fighting back when you're not supposed to, loads of stuff like that. But if you help us to make a good film, for the next two weeks none of this lot will punish you – so you won't have to suck, you won't get fucked and nobody will whip you. Of course, that doesn't include me, but then we're family, and what we do at home is nothing to do with cubs.

"If you do mess it up, we'll invite the whole pack to come round here next Friday, and we'll make sure that you get whipped and fucked really badly every Tuesday and Friday from now on, understand?"

That wasn't much of a choice, so David said, "Yes, I've got it. What do I have to do?"

"Brilliant! Well done, Gerbil – this is going to be really good… okay, first we're going to drag you in here. You're allowed to struggle as much as you like, right up to the point where we make you submit. After that you have to do whatever you're told. We'll want you to refuse a couple of times, but each time George will whip you, and you have to drop to your knees and beg him to stop, promising to be good in future. Once you're naked we'll force you to let the camera film you all over, and then… then we'll stop and I'll explain the next bit, okay?"

David nodded, knowing there was really no choice here. The resulting film was never going to win an Oscar, but David played his part really well, struggling at the start, refusing to undress until George beat him, refusing to remove his pants (he'd been allowed to put a pair on specially for the film) until George hit him even harder, and then acting ashamed when they all laughed at him once he was naked. He was forced to put his hands on his head and turn slowly round until Roger was satisfied that he had every inch of him on film.

Then he was made to suck everyone except Roger, who was of course working the camera, and Benny. He didn't like that at all, and had to be whipped for real to force him to comply, and the fact that he was actually crying tears of shame by the time he started on George, who was fourth in line, simply made it even better: Roger made him face the camera, tears rolling down his cheeks, and beg to be allowed to stop, only to be forced to carry on.

Next he was tied over the footstool and whipped by everyone, the camera zooming in on the red lines that criss-crossed his buttocks and the microphone faithfully recording every howl and plea for mercy. And then came the big finish: Benedict performed another strip-tease for the camera, which lingered lovingly on his massive erection, and then Roger paused to line up the most important shot.

"We really need two cameras," he said, "one to watch Benny doing it to him, and one to watch his face. I'm going to start by filming it going in, then move to film his face while Benny's doing it to him."

"Do you think I'll be able to make it go in?" asked Benedict. "He's got a really little hole."

"We'll rub lots of cream in," said Joe, who had come equipped. And while the camera was turned off he applied plenty of cream to David's hole, and then got Benedict to rub some more of it onto his hard penis.

"Now, once I get the camera running, push it into him really slowly," said Roger. "Gerbil, you're doing brilliantly so far, though I suppose most of it isn't really acting… still, if you want to beg and plead with Benny, telling him he's too big and stuff like that, it would help. Okay, ready everyone? Then… action!"

Benedict did have a job getting it to penetrate, but suddenly he got it in exactly the right place. David, knowing it would hurt even more if he didn't try to help, pushed back against him, and the knob slipped inside. Benedict gave a yelp of surprise, and David gave a hiss of pain – this really did feel bigger than any of the others that he'd had inside him so far. And then Benedict pushed steadily forward and David began to struggle and beg, pleading with him to take it out, and he wasn't acting at all: it really hurt.

Benedict ignored him, pressing on until his entire length was buried inside David's hole and David was frantically and uselessly trying to expel it.

"Now what do I do?" asked Benedict.

"Pull it about halfway back and then shove it right in again," Joe told him.

So he did that, and David cried out in pain, and Roger let Benedict get into a rhythm and then, still filming, moved the camera up to focus on David's face for a bit.

David struggled helplessly, begging them to stop and crying out that it was splitting him in half, and of course they all ignored him completely. He remembered how long it had taken to bring Benedict to orgasm the previous week and didn't think he could stand it if this took the same amount of time: each thrust was really hurting him, forcing his hole wide open and ramming up against his innards… and it was doing something else, too, because he suddenly realised he had an erection. He was hurting really badly, so he couldn't begin to imagine why he was hard, and he felt a desperate wave of shame sweep over him to accompany the pain.

Benedict began to get excited, thrusting harder and pulling David against him, and Roger moved again so that he could get both David's face and Benedict's in the same shot, and when the last couple of huge thrusts came as Benedict's orgasm arrived, he was rewarded with a contrast between David's agony and Benedict's ecstasy.

Roger moved again so that he could film Benedict's penis as it withdrew, and then he cut filming until Benedict had cleaned himself up and got dressed. Finally he filmed the last scene, which started with a close-up of David's abused bottom and then filmed as he was cut free and put onto his knees with the rest of the six, fully dressed, gathered around him. The only plus point for David was that his erection had subsided once more.

"Now, Gerbil," asked Joe, "are you sorry you let us down?"

David nodded tearfully.

"And you'll never let us down again?"

"No, I swear!" sobbed David. "I'll be really good in future – you'll never have to punish me again!"

"Good. Then you can get dressed. Get your clothes and go and put them on in the kitchen – you'd better wipe your bottom with a tissue first…"

David went into the kitchen, and so missed Joe's closing speech to camera, in which he said that now his naughty cousin had learned his lesson and would never let the six down again.

"Cut!" said Roger, rather pointlessly, since he was operating the camera himself. He turned the microphone off as well, rewinding the cassette.

"I'll get the tape tidied up tomorrow while my parents are out shopping," he told them. "We can watch the film next week after cubs – but I reckon it's going to come out nicely."

They all headed for home, and Joe supported David, whose bottom was hurting, as far as the bus stop. By the time they got home he was feeling a bit better, but he didn't think he could face having that happen to him again.

"Did you mean it, about not punishing me for the next two Fridays?" he asked.

"And Tuesdays. None of the others will do anything bad to you until half term," Joe told him. "You did really well, so for the next two weeks you'll just be a proper member of the Reds. And you should get your necker next week, too, so then you'll really be one of us. Of course, when we go to camp at half term things will be a bit different…

"Different how?"

"You'll see." And that was all Joe was prepared to tell him.

The rest of the evening passed quietly.

"I think I might come and sleep with you tonight," said Joe at bedtime. "After all, that way I won't have to come and wake you up in the morning, like I've been doing on Saturdays."

"Okay. But… please don't fuck me tonight, Joe. My bum is really sore."

"I know," said Joe, giggling. "He has got a big one, hasn't he? We measured it a couple of weeks ago and found it's nearly five and a half inches [14 cm]. Can you imagine how big it'll be when he's fifteen? You'd better hope we don't make you come up to Scouts with us…"

David got washed under Molly's supervision as usual, no longer as self-conscious about it as he had been a month ago, and went up to his attic obediently when Joe told him it was time for bed. Joe came up himself half an hour later, and tonight he pushed the hatch into place once he was inside the attic. He was wearing only his underpants.

"I've told Tim he'll need to come and wake us up for breakfast," he said. "Now… I was going to make you suck me before we go to sleep, but I suppose you have already done it once tonight, so maybe I'll let you off. You can just kiss it good night instead."

And he removed his underpants, tossing them to the floor at the bottom of the mattress, and flourished his erection in David's face. David kissed it on the tip, thinking as he did so that being ordered to do this a month ago would have probably made him puke, and now he could do it easily. It's amazing what you can get used to, he thought.

Joe turned the light out and lay down beside him, snuggling up close and putting his arm round David's shoulders.

"Now the light's out and we're almost asleep, so we can stop hating each other for a bit," he said. "If that's okay with you, of course?"

"Sure," said David, who really just wanted to try to forget his sore bottom and go to sleep.

"I really think you're changing," Joe told him. "Oh, I know you still hate us – every now and then you sort of forget we're watching and let it show in your expression – but I haven't heard you swear once this week, and you've done everything we've told you without trying to get out of it. I was talking to Molly earlier, and she says that since you peed in your shorts last week you've been really polite to her. Okay, maybe it's because you don't want to be punished, but you've still been really good. I reckon before too much longer we might not need to punish you any more, as long as you go on being good.

"If I said you might be allowed to come and use the spare bed in my room instead of the attic, would you want to? Or are you happier being up here out of everyone's way?"

"Well… it would be nice to have a proper bed again. And to be able to go to bed a bit later, even if it's only at the same time as you."

"And you wouldn't mind sharing a room with me?"

"Not really. It'd be better than being locked away up here every night, anyway."

"Then if you keep being good until we get back from cub camp at half term, I'll ask Tim if you can come and share my room. Okay?"

"Yes. Thanks, Joe."

David caught himself feeling grateful for being allowed to share a small bedroom, when a couple of months ago he'd had a large one entirely to himself. Maybe he was adapting to his new situation a bit, even if it was obviously completely unfair for him to be in this position.

"Good. Of course, if you mess me about after you've moved, I'll still have to punish you, and if you do it more than once you'll have to come back up here to sleep. But I reckon we'll be okay together. As long as you remember who's in charge, that is."

David rolled onto his side facing the wall, but Joe hadn't quite finished with him yet: he started stroking David's bum, feeling all the ridges caused by the riding crop.

"Bet that hurt," he said, stroking gently. "Is it feeling better yet?"

"More or less. My hole still aches a bit, though. Get him to fuck you some time, then you'll see what it's like."

"No, thanks. Nobody's ever going to fuck me. Round here I do the fucking. Anyway, I know what it felt like from the look on your face when it was going in, and I don't want to feel like that, ever. I'm only ever going to have nice sex feelings, like when you suck me or when I put it up your bum. You're only allowed to have bad sex feelings… though maybe if you're good I might wank you sometime. That feels nice, having it done by someone else."

"I don't think so: I had it done to me in front of a whole class of second-year kids who couldn't stop laughing at me, and I absolutely hated it."

"Well, obviously – anyone would hate that. But me and Roger have rubbed each other a couple of times when we've been on our own, and that feels really nice. It's miles different being touched by someone you can trust… so maybe I'll do that for you one day."

"No, thanks. I don't want to do any sex stuff with boys, because that's perverted, and I'm not like that. That's why I hate it when you lot force me to have sex with you, because it makes me act queer, and I'm not, okay?"

"I know you're not – but then Roger and I aren't, either. It's just having a bit of fun, that's all. We're both going to get girlfriends when we're old enough. And Tim likes girls, but he still enjoyed giving you one, because it felt good. There's nothing wrong with having a bit of fun with your mates and getting nice feelings. It doesn't mean you're going to be a poof when you grow up."

David was silent. As far as he was concerned, anyone who did stuff with another boy was a pervert – even being forced into it made him feel bad about himself, and the idea of touching another boy's genitals voluntarily made him feel sick. If Joe thought it was okay, that was his business, but David didn't think anyone would ever be able to convince him that it was anything other than a filthy, disgusting practice.

Joe was obviously still in a good mood with him when he woke up, because he was able to enjoy a quiet weekend without anyone making him do anything he didn't want. Okay, he was only allowed to wear his cut-off jeans, and Molly still supervised him while he was getting washed, but otherwise he was treated almost like a proper member of the family. They let him come and watch TV with them – in fact, Tim actually invited him to come and watch the sport on Saturday afternoon. And when Joe suggested letting David move down into the bedroom after half term, Tim didn't object at all.

Monday and Tuesday passed fairly well, too: 1B and 2B didn't go too far over the top at break, and although Osterley made him suck on the Tuesday, he was otherwise left alone at lunchtimes, too. And on the Tuesday evening he wasn't made to do anything except housework.

Wednesday's break was less comfortable, as Harwood sent Larkin away at the start of break before Jordan could intervene, and then David was made to go to the tuck shop for them, still wearing his female uniform. That gave a large section of the school population a chance to laugh at him, but by now mere laughter was nothing like as bad as some of the other things he had gone through.

When he got back to 1C's room he was stripped and whipped, though because there were by now some fairly impressive bruises appearing on his buttocks Jordan was able to persuade his form-mates not to overdo it: "If he ends up in hospital, we'll all be in trouble," he pointed out. And that was the end of his junior school punishments – except for Pope and his form, of course…

At lunchtime McMillan said he wanted to try fucking him. He was the only one of the junior members of Osterley's circle who was long enough, but because his penis was quite thin it didn't hurt that much: McMillan was a lot smaller than Benedict. He was made to suck Sherwood while McMillan was inside him, which allowed the two friends to enjoy sex at the same time, but even that could have been worse, he decided: Sherwood was quite small, and he didn't have any spunk, either.

Once they had finished with him Osterley packed the female uniform into his bag and handed David his shorts.

"Okay, from now on you can just wear these, and you'll only have to come here at lunch times," he said. "I expect we'll still want to do stuff to you now and again, but not every day."

David could see Little Collins scowling at him: clearly the smaller boy still didn't think David should get off this easily. And that made him feel genuinely grateful to Osterley, so once he was dressed he turned to the third-year boy.

"Look, Osterley… thanks. I really mean it. And… well… now I really am sorry about last term, too. I know Collins won't believe me, but I was wrong to set you up like that, and I wish I hadn't. Actually, I agree with Collins: I think you've let me down easily, so if there's ever anything I can do for you, I will. Okay?"

"I can't imagine ever needing your help, but… well… okay, thanks for offering, anyway."

"And Collins? I'm really glad you were around at the end of last term. You probably don't believe that, either, but I'm glad there was someone to stand beside him. So, I owe you, too."

Little Collins didn't answer that – plainly he was still unconvinced – so David just picked up his bag and went out. Maybe Joe was right, he thought: maybe he really was changing a bit. He didn't think he would ever have been capable of regretting what had happened to Osterley until very recently: perhaps you had to go through bad stuff yourself to find out how the other person feels…

After school he went home with Michael. Once again Michael lent him some long trousers, though of course at least now he could keep wearing his own shirt. And once again he had a really nice, relaxed evening with the Staggs.

At bedtime he changed into his own PE shorts, which he'd brought along specially, and Michael undressed, hesitating before pulling his own shorts on.

"Maybe I'll sleep naked tonight," he suggested. "That way if I have one of those dreams it'll shoot out all over you. Of course, if you were to suck me first – or even better, let me put it up your bum – I'd be too spent to have a dream like that, and you'd be safe. What do you think?"

David looked at him, not knowing how to say 'fuck off!' without offending him, and Michael looked at his face, laughed and pulled his shorts on.

"I'm teasing, you idiot," he said. "I told you last week I wouldn't make you do anything you don't want to, and I meant it. Of course, if you volunteer I won't say no – I'd love to know how it feels to fuck someone. But I've promised I won't make you, and I won't. Now get into bed."

So they got into bed and settled down, and they talked for a while about school – Michael was still passing most of David's marks on to Tim via Sherwood, but he'd suppressed a couple of really low marks, and in fact now that some of the pressure was off David's marks were actually improving a bit. Michael also told him that Tim had agreed to letting David come round on Mondays as well as Wednesdays from next week. He intended telling his parents that David's mother was away working in London, and letting his stay over a couple of times a week would make up for the lack of family life at home.

David settled down happily: he knew he could trust Michael by now, and the idea of two nights in a proper bed, not to mention being allowed to stay up until ten o'clock watching TV, was really attractive.

In the event Michael didn't suffer a wet dream that night, and so they were able to sleep undisturbed until the alarm went off.

At break he reported, with a great deal of trepidation, to Pope.

"Okay," Pope told him. "I want you to go into the book store and strip naked. There's a desk in there you can bend over if you need to. Once you're ready, every boy in the class will come in to see you, one at a time, in alphabetical order, and you'll do whatever they tell you – and afterwards you'll keep it to yourself, too: you don't tell anyone what you did, not even me, or you'll get whipped, okay?"

David nodded, allowing himself to be ushered into the book store, a large cupboard about eight feet deep by six feet wide [2½x1½ m], with a desk in the middle. He undressed, putting his clothes into his bag, and then stuck his head outside the door and told Pope he was ready. And a few seconds later the first boy came in.

"My name's Allen," he said. "And… look, are you sure you're not going to tell anyone out there about this? Only I'd hate anyone to find out."

"They won't," said David. "I promise – and you heard Pope: even he can't make me tell."

"Right. Only… Pope says we can… you know, fuck you, like happened to you last time, or make you suck on it, which Pope says is really nice, or make you rub it – and that's supposed to feel good, too. Or we're allowed just to hurt you if we want instead."

David hadn't known about that bit, but it was a bit late to argue now.

"So what do you want to do?" he asked.

"I don't know… I don't think I want to put it up your bum, 'cos that seems a bit… well, too dirty. What do you think I should do?"

"It's up to you," said David, who certainly wasn't going to volunteer to do anything. He was a bit surprised: Allen was quite tall, and well-built, and was very much the sort of boy he'd expect to be very enthusiastic about fucking him. But instead Allen said, timidly, "Well, would it be okay if I put it in your mouth, then?"

Obviously David couldn't actually say no, so he dropped to his knees in front of the table, and Allen nervously pulled down his trousers and pants, revealing a quite well-grown organ that even had a few wisps of hair round the base. It was limp, and it took David a while to stiffen it up, but he knew what would happen if he didn't do what he was told, so he gave it his best effort, and soon it was nice and hard and about four and a half inches [11½ cm] long.

David sucked it, and it didn't take long, and when it happened some stuff came out, making David cough, but Allen didn't seem to care.

"Gosh, that was… special," he said, pulling his trousers back up. "Thanks, Rat."

And he went out, leaving David spitting into his handkerchief.

Before the bell went he had masturbated Bell, sucked Brigham and been fucked by Carlton, so that left him with four done and twenty-four still to do. It looked as if this would be over well before half-term, which was good, but he was still unhappy about this: okay, at least now he was being forced to behave like a pervert in private, rather than in front of forty jeering kids, but it was still really hard to make himself do this stuff, and he emerged from the cupboard feeling sick.

"Well done, Rat, no complaints," said Pope. "See you again tomorrow."

And the next day he dealt with Clements, Clifford, Crampton and Daniels, wanking two and sucking two, and then at lunch time when he went to the music block he found Pope there instead of Osterley, and Pope took him back to 2C's form room so that he could carry on. He sucked Evans, let Farrington fuck him…and then came a pause, at the end of which the door was pulled open and, to the sound of cheering, a completely naked boy was pushed into the cupboard and the door slammed behind him. The boy turned, heaving at the door and shouting to be let out, but to no avail. Eventually he slumped down onto the floor.

"Are you Fraser?" asked David, consulting the form list he had been given.

The boy on the floor nodded.

"You don't want to be here, do you?"

Fraser shook his head.

"That's okay – I don't, either. Come on, just come and sit down for a bit. We'll wait three or four minutes and then they'll let you out. We can say you made me do… whatever you want, and then they'll leave you alone."

The boy stood up, holding his hands in front of his groin. He came over to the table and sat down on it, still hiding his genitals.

"Why did they make you come in if you didn't want to?"

"Pope says everyone has to have a go. I said I didn't want to, I thought it was dirty, and they just laughed at me, stripped me and threw me in here. Pope said I wouldn't think it was dirty when I found out how good it feels, but I don't want to find out. It's filthy, doing stuff like that."

"I agree with you. I certainly wouldn't be here if I had a choice," David told him.

The boy looked up at him. He was a skinny kid, obviously not much good at anything athletic, and it was easy to imagine him being picked on by someone like Pope.

"You're not going to make me, then?" he asked.

"God, no! I'm only too glad not to have to do stuff with you!"

"Oh, good," said the boy, relaxing a little.

David sat down next to him, and the boy flinched a little.

"It's okay," said David. "It's just… well, I know Pope. He might well look in, and if he does I want him to think I'm playing with yours, because if he sees us doing nothing they might make us do stuff out there with everyone watching."

And he was right: half a minute later the door opened. David had time to move his hand to Fraser's lap before Pope came in, and that allowed him to say, "Hey, Pope, this is supposed to be private – get out and let me rub him in peace!"

"Okay," said Pope. "Just checking, that's all."

"And chuck his clothes in here," added David. "He shouldn't have to come out there naked afterwards."

A minute later the door opened again and Fraser's clothes were dropped on the floor. David kept his hand where it was until the door closed again.

"Thanks," said Fraser. "Sorry, but I just think all this sex stuff is sick. Thanks for not giving me away."

"Any time," said David.

They waited another couple of minutes, and then Fraser got dressed and left.

Gilmore came in and fucked him – and he was quite big for a second-year, so it hurt a bit, even though he wasn't quite in Benedict's league – and then Grahame came in and wanted them to feel each other up, which David agreed to unenthusiastically. They stroked each other for a bit, and then Grahame looked at his watch and said that they'd better stop, the bell would be going in a couple of minutes. He got dressed and pulled David out into the room with him – and of course the way Grahame had been handling him meant that David had an erection. That got a huge cheer, and made David blush bright red with shame.

"Glad you're enjoying it, Rat," said Pope, staring at his groin.

There was no answer to that, so David just threw his clothes on and fled.

After cubs that evening (and David did manage to recite the Law and the Promise and so on perfectly, and so was presented with his neckerchief, making him a proper member of the pack) they all went back to the Devlins' house and watched Roger's video, and it was pretty good, even though he couldn't quite get the sound in sync with the video tape. The camera wobbled a bit, and the focus slipped occasionally, but generally it was good, and the boys all seemed to enjoy it a lot. David winced when he watched himself being whipped, and just seeing Benedict lining up on the film was enough to make his buttocks clench.

"Good film, Roger," said Joe, once it was over. "We'll have to get some copies made of the tape if we can – it would be a real shame if anything happened to it before the whole pack has seen it – and everyone from our school, of course!"

David stared at him in horror.

"I'm joking," said Joe. "This is Red Six stuff – nobody else gets to see it. Besides, if we showed it to too many people someone would be sure to talk about it in front of grown-ups, and then we'd all be in trouble.

"Now, I said last week that we'd go easy on Gerbil this week and next if he helped us make the film, so we're going to do that. That's why I haven't made him strip tonight, and why we're not going to next week, either. Of course, after that we'll be away at camp, and then it'll be back to normal…"

David still didn't like the sound of that, but he didn't think he'd get an answer if he asked. And he didn't, even when he raised the issue in private that night in the attic – Joe had chosen to sleep with him again.

"You'll find out when you get there," Joe told him. "But we'll try not to be too nasty to you." And that was all he would say.

Another quiet weekend rolled past, and over the two breaks on Monday David managed to deal with another nine members of 2C (two who wanted to fuck him, four who wanted to be sucked, one who wanted to be wanked, and two who didn't want to do anything at all but, mindful of what had happened to Fraser, were both sensible enough not to say so before they got into the cupboard). That left only four still to be dealt with, not including Pope and Little Collins, both of whom had missed their turn alphabetically, and when David went home with Michael after school he was confident that the end was finally in sight – except for Dhif, of course, but he still wasn't anticipating any serious problems there.

However, one unanticipated problem reared its head while Michael was helping his mother get the table ready for supper: Julian grabbed David and pulled him into his room, closing the door behind him.

"Now look," he began, "Mikey's being really good to you…"

"I know," said David, wondering where this was going. "And I'm really grateful."

"Good, because I want you to show him how grateful you are. Next time he suggests doing sex stuff with you, you're going to say 'yes', understand?"

"But… but he said he wouldn't make me do anything like that!"

"And he won't, which is why you'll have to volunteer. Look, Villiers-Gore, Mikey's really nice, and since you went to that party with him it's obvious that he really likes you, though I'm not quite sure why: I suppose he must be able to see something in you that the rest of us can't. Anyway, I know how much he'd like to be able to do stuff with you, because he's told me, but he'd never break his word by making you do it – and actually I don't think he'd enjoy it if he thought you didn't want to do it. So I want you to offer to let him. He deserves it, don't you think?"

"Yes, but… God, Julian, I hate that stuff!"

"I know. But frankly I don't care: I just want my brother to be happy, and after all he's done to help you, I think you owe him. So you're going to do this. I'd prefer you to do it because you think he's earned it, but if not you can do it because otherwise I'll talk to Sherwood and get you whipped naked in the yard at school. It's up to you."

And he went back downstairs, leaving David thinking and wondering if there was a way out of this situation.

He was quiet all the way through supper, and while they were watching TV afterwards. He knew that Julian was right: Michael had rescued him from a couple of nights at home, even though in fact he seemed to be getting on better with the Devlins recently, and so really he did owe him something. But he still hated the idea of having to do sex stuff with boys…

A couple of months previously this would have been an easy decision: Michael was a council estate oik, and there would have been no circumstances in which David would have felt indebted to him. But lately his views had changed a little: maybe he did have a sense of honour after all, even though it had been atrophied for the whole of his life so far.

"You've been really quiet this evening," commented Michael when they went up to his room to get ready for bed. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I was just thinking, that's all."

"About how you could possibly go on resisting my perfect body?" teased Michael.

David took a deep breath. "Well, sort of," he said.

Michael stared at him. "Huh?"

"Look, Michael… suppose I said…" He swallowed. "Suppose I said I might be thinking about… you know, doing… stuff… with you…"

"Wow! Are you?"

"Sort of."

"God, David, I never thought… I mean, seriously?"

David managed to make himself nod.

"Bloody hell… that's… I mean… I'd really like that. But only if you're sure."

"I'm sure," lied David, through gritted teeth. "But… just the once, okay?"

"Yes, sure, whatever you say. So… what do you want to do?"

"What do you want?"

"Well… it felt absolutely amazing when you sucked it, but… I don't suppose… that is… could you… I mean, would you… would you actually let me… fuck you?"

David hesitated. Getting Michael's stuff shooting out into his mouth was sure to make him puke, like it had the first time. Getting fucked… well, he thought Michael was a little bit smaller than Benedict, but it would still hurt like hell, unless…

"If I said yes, would you swear to be careful and to try not to hurt me too much?"

"God, yes – I'd be really gentle, I promise. And I'd stop if it started hurting you."

"You promise?" asked David, eyeing the growing bulge in Michael's trousers nervously.

"I promise. Look, David, you're sort of a friend now, and I'd never do anything to hurt you, okay?"

"Then… okay, we'll do it. You'll need something to help it go in – hand cream, or shampoo, or Vaseline, or something like that. Can you find some?"

"You bet!" cried Michael, and ran out, coming back with a tube of hand cream. "Will this do?"

"I should think so. Let's get undressed, and then you'll have to rub some of that onto your thing, and some round my hole… there's no chance of anyone coming in while we're doing it, is there?"

"No, but I'll pull the chest of drawers in front of the door to make sure."

They got undressed, and Michael rubbed a little cream onto his already extremely hard erection, and David lay across the edge of the bed and spread his legs as far as he could, praying that this would be over quickly. Michael squeezed a little of the cream onto David's hole and rubbed it around his entrance with his forefinger, and then knelt down behind him.

"Are you really sure about this, David?" he asked.

"Just do it," said David, closing his eyes and trying to prepare himself.

He felt the tip of Michael's foreskin touch his hole and pressed back, as he had learned to do by now, and Michael tentatively pushed a little.

"You'll have to push a bit harder," David told him, "or you won't get past the entrance."

"Okay, but… you must promise to tell me if it hurts."

"I will. Now go on."

Michael pushed a bit harder, and David tried to open up for him, and then the knob was able to force its way past the rim. David gasped.

"Okay?" asked Michael.

"Fine. Carry on – but do it slowly."

Michael pushed a bit more, and slowly more and more of his weapon slid inside, until finally David could feel the pubic hair touching his bum.

"I think that's as far as it'll go," said Michael. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," said David, and indeed he was: this didn't hurt anything like as much as Benedict's had done.

"What do I do now?"

"Pull back a bit and then push forward again."

Michael pulled back a bit too far and it came right out. "Damn!" he said.

"That's okay, just put it in again. Slowly."

Michael did that, carefully pushed it all the way in, and then withdrew once more, and this time he stopped before it went too far. He pushed it in again, withdrew, pushed forward…

"God, this feels amazing," he said. "I'd never have believed how warm you are inside… Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine. Try speeding up a bit," said David, anxious to get this over with, "and I'll squeeze a bit, and that ought to feel even better."

To judge from the noises Michael made, it did feel better – a lot better. He got into a rhythm, not too fast, but steady, and David tensed and relaxed with him, thinking that this didn't really hurt – actually, it wasn't too bad at all… in fact…

"Oh, fuck," he breathed, because he realised he'd gone hard again – not only that, but his whole groin area felt warm and nice.

"Are you okay?" asked Michael, again, disconcerted by that sotto voce profanity.

"Yes, I'm… I'm okay. Keep going."

So Michael kept going, and David was faced with the inescapable realisation that, not only did this feel good, but it was actually getting him excited. Far too excited, in fact: he thought that if this kept going for another minute or so he was actually going to have an orgasm.

He desperately wanted to make Michael stop before that happened, but he didn't see how he could without ruining things for him – and he wasn't sure that Michael would be able to stop now, anyway: the way he was gasping as he thrust forward suggested that he wasn't too far away from an orgasm of his own. He struggled to contain the feelings, praying that Michael would get there first… but the feeling grew and grew, and all the wriggling and writhing in the world couldn't hold it back. At last he lost the struggle and the orgasm swept over him, and his thrashing about dragged Michael over the edge, too, and for several seconds their climax went on and on, until David was convinced that it would never end and he was going to die here, drowned in excitement and pinned down under another boy's body.

At last the feeling started to recede, and Michael collapsed on top of him.

"Oh, my God, David," he gasped, "That's the most unbelievable feeling I've ever had in my life… I thought it was good when you sucked on it, but that was ten times as good… I thought it was never going to end… Are you okay?"

"Yes, I think so," said David, struggling to control his voice.

"It didn't hurt too much, did it?"

"It didn't hurt at all."

"Oh, brilliant! I'm really glad… God, that was incredible…wow!"

He moved back, his now limp penis slipping out easily.

"I suppose I ought to go and have a wash," he said, looking down at himself. "And you'd better come, too – there's cream and… stuff… round your bum."

"Better check there's nobody on the landing," advised David, grabbing his shorts and throwing Michael's pair to him.

The landing was clear, and they made it to the bathroom unobserved, cleaning themselves up and then putting their shorts on for the return trip. They got into bed, turned the light out and settled down, and Michael seemed to go to sleep really quickly. But David lay next to him with his eyes wide open, his brain in absolute turmoil. How could he have possibly have got excited doing something as perverted as that? He knew he wasn't a queer – the whole idea of sex with other boys disgusted him. And yet, being fucked had not only turned him on, it had made him have an orgasm – and without even touching his penis! So that had to mean that he was a poof, because only a poof would want to be fucked… but he hadn't wanted it! But it had happened, and he had got excited… but he hated queers! But if he had orgasms while having sex with a boy, he must be queer himself… but he just couldn't be – queers were disgusting…

The thoughts chased each other round and round his head, but there was no resolution to the problem, and when he finally fell asleep, exhausted, at about two in the morning, he still felt absolutely awful. How could he have liked doing that? Because even if his head had hated every moment, it was obvious that his body had loved it, and might even want to do it again. His final thought before falling asleep was that he must be going insane…

So now David has a new enemy: himself. Is there any way for him to sort this out in his head without it exploding?

In the next chapter we'll see how he copes with the aftermath of this event. Also coming over the horizon is the cub camp – and if he gets past that in one piece, the final challenge will be waiting for him, and it's one he has horribly underestimated…

Chapter Twenty

In this chapter David tries to deal with the consequences of what happened with Michael. Somehow he has to convince himself that he's not turning into one of the perverts he hates so much… He's almost finished Osterley's part of his punishment, which is good news, but he's about to be taken off into the country with the rest of his cub pack – and that might involve a few things Baden-Powell never had in mind when he founded the Boy Scouts…

David woke up before the alarm went off the following morning. Michael was still sleeping peacefully beside him, but David himself felt no better than he had before going to sleep: his brain was still at war with his body. He desperately needed someone to talk to about it, but of course he'd always prided himself on not needing friends, and so there was nobody to help him now that he really needed it.

About the only two people who could remotely be considered 'friends' were Jordan and Michael. Jordan was only eleven years old and so hardly experienced enough to give advice, and in any case he obviously had no inhibitions where sex was concerned; and obviously he couldn't raise the issue with Michael – at least, he didn't think he could.

But who else was there? Tim Devlin? Definitely not. Joe? Well, there were certainly odd moments recently when Joe had seemed almost friendly towards him, but Joe was even younger than Jordan. Pope? Don't be so bloody ridiculous, he told himself. Osterley? Well… a fortnight ago the idea of asking Osterley for advice would have seemed as stupid as asking Pope, but maybe now it wasn't quite such a silly idea – and, after all, Osterley had been forced to have sex as well…

He decided to see if Osterley had experienced the same thing. In the meantime he had to try to make sure Michael thought everything was okay – he really didn't want to do or say anything that might jeopardise his chances of escaping here once or twice a week, because even with the Devlins being a bit easier on him, this was still a better place than his own home.

The alarm went off and Michael turned it off, looked at him and smiled.

"Morning, David," he said. "You okay?"

"Yes, of course," said David, mustering the semblance of a smile.

"Good. Look… thanks for last night: it was the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me. You're a really good friend to let me do that."

He pulled David against him and hugged him, and David managed not to pull away.

"I know you said that last night would be a one-off," Michael went on, "but… well… I was hoping you might change your mind about that."

"I don't know," said David: his brain was screaming 'No!!!' at him, but he could feel his penis twitching at the same time: it seemed to like the idea. "Look, can we just forget about it for a bit?"

"Of course. And I meant what I said before: if you don't want to do it again, I promise I won't try to make you, okay? But I really hope you will want to, because it made me feel bloody amazing."

And he got out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

David stood up more slowly, unable to understand why he'd started to get hard at the thought of doing it again when he knew how disgusting and perverted it was. Mechanically he followed Michael through to the bathroom, got washed and dressed, ate breakfast, went back upstairs and changed into his shorts, and then followed the Staggs to school, all in a semi-trance.

At break he reported to 2C's form room, and here he got lucky: both Roberts and Stevenson simply came into the book store and sat quietly with him for five minutes each, not wanting to do anything sexual at all. Telford, a skinny little kid with a small penis, then made him suck, but it took so long to bring him off that there was no time to deal with the final member of the form.

"Just come to the music block at lunch time," Pope told him on the way out. "I want another go with you myself, and I'll bring Wordsworth with me – and then you'll be finished. Bet you'll be glad about that."

He was, obviously, and so reported to the music block at lunchtime, happy in the thought that whatever happened to him now it would all be over, at least as far as the visits to the junior form rooms was concerned. Pope and Wordsworth, whom David recognised as one of Pope's closer friends, arrived just after he did, and once the door was closed and blocked with a chair as usual David was ordered to strip.

"Okay," said Pope, once David was naked. "Now me and Matt are going to have a fight: we're going to try to strip each other and then make each other submit. Whoever wins gets to fuck you while you suck the other one. You can referee the fight – two falls or one submission will decide it, but you can't be pinned or made to submit until you're naked, okay?"

David nodded that he understood and helped them move the table to one end of the room, and then the fight started. They were about the same height and weight, so it was an even contest, and gradually they managed to undress each other, until both were naked. Then the wrestling started, and here too it was hard to tell which was most likely to win. Finally Pope managed to get Wordsworth onto his back and pin him down, and David, entering into the spirit of the thing, knelt down beside them and counted to three, doing his best to sound like the referee in the wrestling matches that were televised most Saturday afternoons.

"One fall to Pope," he announced. "Ready again? Fight!"

Pope grinned at him and made a grab for Wordsworth, who pirouetted out of his way and grabbed him while he was off balance, seizing his wrist and dragging it up into a back-hammer. And although Pope struggled he couldn't get free, and Wordsworth went on applying pressure until Pope finally submitted.

"You were lucky," growled Pope. "Oh, well, I suppose I have fucked him before… you'll need some of this."

He handed over a small jar of Vaseline, and David bent over the table; and Wordsworth, who was about the same size as Pope where it counted, lined up and – after a few failures – managed to push it in. Pope came and stood in front of David's head and David forced himself to do what was necessary, telling himself that at least this would be the last time.

Wordsworth obviously loved the sensation it gave him, because he reached his climax quite quickly and then withdrew, so David did everything he could to get Pope to a climax as well, and was rewarded when Pope got there only a minute or so after his friend.

"Okay," said Pope, stepping away, "you can get dressed. And as far as I'm concerned, that's you finished. Of course, if you want us to, we'll be happy to do that whenever you like…"

"No, thanks," said David, straight away. "I hope I never have to do anything like that again."

"Oh, well, you know where we are if you change your mind." And Pope and Wordsworth finished dressing and left him alone.

He did up his shoelaces, tidied the room up a bit and went to look for Osterley, and found him leaning on the outside wall of his form room and talking to Little Collins as usual. David hesitated: he wanted Osterley on his own. But he didn't think he'd seen Osterley on his own, except for that one occasion in the music practice room, since the end of last term, so probably there would be no point in hanging around and hoping that Little Collins would go away.

"What do you want?" asked Little Collins, brusquely, as David came up to them.

"I… well… can I talk to you alone for a moment?" David asked Osterley.

"No, I don't think so. I don't have any secrets from Bertie, so if there's something you want to tell me, you can do it here. But if it's about Pope being finished with you, I already know: he came and told me so a couple of minutes ago."

"No, it's not that. I just wanted… well… see, I need some advice."

"What, and you're asking me? Why, for God's sake?"

"Who else is he going to ask?" said Little Collins, scornfully. "Everyone knows he hasn't got any friends."

"That's true, actually," admitted David, surprising them. "I can't think of anyone else to talk to about this, and as you were in the same position, I thought… well…"

"Go on, then, I'm listening," said Osterley.

"Well… it's… I mean… Look, when Pope and his friends were… fucking you last term… Did it get you excited?"

"What? No, of course it didn't! I hated every moment!"

"Yes, I know, but what I mean is… well, did it make you get hard?"

"God, no! It hurt far too much – don't forget they whipped me, too. I don't think I could have got hard if the most beautiful girl in the world had walked past stark naked. Why, did that happen to you?"

"Well, not when Pope and his lot were doing it to me, no. But last night a boy in my own year did it to me, and…"

"And it made you hard?"

"Worse: it made me have an orgasm. But I'm not queer, Osterley, okay? I hate that stuff!"

"Okay, I can see why it worried you. But, look, sometimes we can't control what our bodies do. The first time Pope and his mates got me on the teacher's desk I hated it, but when Bertie played with my cock I still went hard, and when he rubbed it, it still made me spurt. I hated every second, but it didn't stop me spurting in front of everyone. And the same thing happened to you when he did it to you, didn't it? Except you didn't spurt, of course… anyway, so you know you can't control it. It doesn't make you bent, okay? It's just something that happens."

"Of course, maybe in your case it does make you bent," put in Little Collins, smiling nastily. "If it felt really nice – so much that you want to do it again…well, in that case you're probably a raving poof."

David scowled at him. "Okay, thanks, Osterley," he said, and walked off, thinking about it. He felt a little bit better, because of course Osterley was right: he'd had an orgasm in front of the whole form when Little Collins had wanked him, even though he hadn't enjoyed it one little bit – which proved that his body was capable of operating independently from his brain. But if he was honest he knew that last night hadn't really been like that: at the moment of his climax the previous evening he'd liked it. Only for a few seconds, but still… and that meant that Little Collins was right, too: part of him, at least, did want to do it again. Intellectually he hated the idea, but the way his penis had twitched when Michael had suggested it this morning proved that his body wasn't inclined to be intellectual about this.

So where did that leave him? Was it possible that he really was turning into a queer? If that was the case he thought he'd have to commit suicide or something, because the idea of spending his entire life doing disgusting, perverted things with other boys and men – and actually liking it – was totally unacceptable.

There was hardly any work to do at the Devlins' house that evening – after all, with nobody living there it only really needed an occasional wipe round with a duster and a run with the vacuum cleaner, so they only stayed for half an hour before going back to David's house.

Wednesday was the first day for ages when David hadn't had to worry about being punished at either break or lunchtime. He did put his head round the music block door at lunchtime just in case, but there was nobody there. He almost felt as if his life – well, his school life, at least – was returning to normal.

After school he went home with the Staggs and had an enjoyable evening watching television with them. He was a little nervous at bedtime, just in case Michael decided he wanted a repeat performance, but in fact Michael just changed into his shorts and got into bed without saying anything about it.

"Are you okay?" Michael asked, once they were settled in with the light out. "You've been really quiet today – and yesterday, too. I'd have thought you'd be really happy now that Osterley has let you go."

"I am. It's just… well, it's not completely over yet, because I've still got Dhif to deal with after half term, but I don't think that should be too difficult."

"So what's the problem, then?"

"Nothing. I'm just tired. I'll probably feel better in the morning." David really didn't want to talk about the way he felt, not least because he didn't know himself how he was feeling: he was still totally confused about it. But he didn't think discussing it with Michael would help.

"Okay," said Michael, giving him a quick hug. "Goodnight, then." And he settled down to sleep, leaving David with his eyes wide open once again, and his brain still churning away. Why had part of him liked being hugged like that? He knew it was wrong for boys to touch each other. And it wasn't as if Michael was even very good-looking… okay, actually the hair colour was sort of interesting, and the freckles had a certain charm, but still, Michael would never get a job as a model. Osterley, now… If you wanted a really good-looking boy, Osterley was a far better candidate…

Why am I even thinking about boys being good-looking? he interrupted himself, mentally. Only queers rate other boys like that…

What was happening to him? Was he really turning into some sort of pervert, or was it just stress brought on by what he had been through lately? Maybe that was it: perhaps he had been hurt so many times that he would look at anyone who was decent to him with disproportionate gratitude: a hug and a kind word would feel so good after all the beatings and abuse that he would look at the person giving them in a way that he would never consider in the normal way of things. Probably once he'd recovered from his ordeal he'd see things more clearly, and he'd realise that Michael was just another boy in his form, and one who lived on a council estate at that, and so not really worthy of notice. Yes, that must be it, he told himself: I'm just not thinking straight at the moment. Except…

Except nothing, he told himself, firmly. Go to sleep.

And before too long he did.

He tried hard to hold onto that point of view next morning. It wasn't easy: when Michael took his shorts off quite unconcernedly in front of him he caught himself looking at Michael's penis and remembering how good it had felt inside him, and he had to dig his nails into his palm to drag his mind away from such confused and perverted thinking. And when Michael smiled at him – which happened a few times – he still felt a little warm glow inside, and he had to remind himself that this was only because of the contrast with the way other boys had abused him lately, and that normally a smile like that from a lower class boy would mean nothing to him. And by the time they got to school he had just about convinced himself that this was the case.

On the Friday morning Osterley took him to see Blackman and reported that David had complied fully with his punishment, and that as far as Osterley was concerned the slate was clean.

"You seem to be learning, Villiers-Gore," Blackman told him. "Perhaps you can be brought back into the fold after all. You'd better go and ask Dhif what he wants from you after half term."

So David did that and Dhif simply said that there was no hurry.

"There's nothing that won't keep," Dhif told him. "Don't bother coming to look for me after the holiday. You can just carry on as normal until I'm ready for you, and when I am I'll come and find you."

David thought that it sounded as If he was nowhere near the top of Dhif's list of priorities, and that probably meant his punishment would be fairly quick and insignificant, just something to be fitted in when Dhif had a spare moment. So he said okay, politely enough, and went back to his own form room.

His feelings about Dhif hadn't changed a lot. He was prepared to accept that he'd been wrong about Osterley, who had proved in the last week or so that he was a decent kid who hadn't deserved what David had let him in for, and he was genuinely sorry about the way Osterley had been treated by Pope and his gang. But Dhif was a horse of a different colour, so to speak: David still didn't think that coloureds should be in the same school as decent white boys, and given another opportunity he'd probably have done whatever he could to get Dhif removed from the school. Okay, it wasn't Dhif's fault that he was a nigger, but if he'd known his place he wouldn't have allowed himself to be sent to a decent school in the first place.

Maybe Dhif even realised that, and that was why he was being offhand about David's punishment now. Maybe he knew that it was his own fault that he had been targeted, and that David had been morally right to try to get him removed? If that was the case, probably the punishment would be no more than a token. Yes, probably there was nothing to worry about here at all…

Cubs on Friday went well: after the meeting the Red Six all went back to the Devlins' house as usual but tonight they didn't make David strip or do anything else to him, though they did suggest that the upcoming camp might be a bit different.

"The newest member of each six is always given a bumpy ride at their first camp," Joe told him. "Of course, yours will be bumpier than usual because of who you are, but if you take it without arguing we'll give you an easy ride right through to the summer holidays. Of course, we'll still make you do sex sometimes, 'cos that's far too good to give up, but we won't whip you any more, and you won't have to strip except when we want you to do sex with us. And once another new kid joins the six we might let you off altogether."

"Are you sure I can't make him suck on mine tonight?" Roger asked;

"No, you can't. We promised if he helped us make the film, remember? Of course, once we get to camp it'll be different…"

That didn't sound so good, but David thought that if he could get through the camp, maybe they'd keep their word and ease back on him afterwards, and that would make his Fridays a lot less worrying.

Half term began on the Saturday. The cubs met at the school on the Sunday afternoon and were taken by coach to a farm about seven or eight miles [10-12 km] out of town, near the river. The farmer had given them the use of a field that he wasn't using at the moment, and would also be supplying them with eggs and milk. They spent most of Sunday afternoon trying to get the tents pitched properly: each six had its own tent, the four of them pitched in a row (or something vaguely like a row) at one side of the field, with the two leaders in a smaller tent not too far away. Once the tents were up each six sent one member to help set up the cooking area and one to help dig the holes for the latrines. David, of course, was sent on that mission.

Eventually the camp was set up, and the two leaders called everyone together and explained what was going to happen over the next three days: they would be doing some field-craft, including tracking, hunting and basic survival skills (the second leader had been borrowed from a scout troop and was used to working with older boys). They would also be doing their own cooking, which made David glad that he'd eaten one of Mrs Devlin's large Sunday lunches before leaving home.

There was also a long list of things to do and not to do: they should stay away from the river, which was only a field away; they should keep quiet at night so as to get plenty of sleep; they should not muck about generally, but should do what they were told, etc. etc. And then they were turned loose to do a little local exploring.

The Reds immediately headed for the river, though they went in a roundabout way so as not to be noticed by the leaders. The river was quite wide here but didn't seem to be flowing particularly quickly.

"Can you swim?" Roger asked David, tugging him towards the edge by his neckerchief.

"Yes, but I'm not going in there."

"You will if you don't behave this week. And we'll chuck you in naked, too, so when they pull you out when the river reaches Gloucester, everyone there can have a good laugh."

"I'll behave, then," said David.

"Mind you do."

In fact the leaders did most of the cooking, so the evening meal wasn't too bad, and afterwards the whole pack sat around the campfire for a while listening to Akela telling them stories. And then it was time for them to retire to their tents to get ready for bed, and of course at that point David's situation went steeply downhill.

"Before we go to bed you have to suck everyone," Joe told him. "And we'll give you marks out of ten. If you don't get good enough marks we'll have to punish you."

"Okay," said David, who had expected something like this. "But you have to mark fairly, okay? You can't give me a really bad mark if I don't deserve it, just so you can beat me up later."

"Want to bet?" asked Roger, smiling nastily.

"Oh, come on! That's not fair! Okay, if you're going to give me a bad mark anyway, then I won't bother trying to make it feel good. And in your case, Roger, I might even bite it off!"

Roger actually looked worried for a moment. "You wouldn't!" he said. "You'd get into trouble."

"No, I wouldn't: I'd say you forced me to do it, so you'd get into trouble for bullying. And even if I did get into trouble, so what? It wouldn't last long, but you'd be a girl for the rest of your life."

Roger thought about that. "Okay, then I suppose I'll give you a fair mark," he conceded.

"Right. So, who wants to go first?"

"Youngest first!" shouted George, pushing his way to the front.

"Okay. How long have I got? I mean, do they come round to make sure we're asleep, or something?"

"No, not unless we make a lot of noise. Akela will go off to the pub as soon as we settle down, and Bagheera will just sit in the tent listening to the radio and reading a book. They won't interrupt us. So you've got as long as you like, but you have to be finished with all of us by half past ten."

"How do you know – about the leaders, I mean? And what happens at half past ten?"

"Because Akela goes to the pub every time we have a camp here. And by half-past ten he'll be back, and after that they'll go to sleep, and after that… there's a tradition on the first night of every camp. You'll find out about that later. Now, I think George is waiting for you – oh, and don't forget to take all your clothes off before you start."

For the next two hours or so David just got on with it, doing everything he could to avoid thinking about what he was doing, just doing his best to make the experience as nice as possible for the other members of the six. Obviously he didn't have to worry about anything coming out in his mouth, and nobody except Benedict had one big enough to choke him – and Benedict just let him do it the same way as he had the first time, holding the penis near the base to stop too much of it going into his mouth.

It was dark outside by the time he finished, but none of the others had changed into their pyjamas yet, so obviously the 'tradition' Joe had mentioned was going to involve going outside.

"Okay, let's give him marks out of ten," said Joe, as soon as Benedict – who had been last – was fully dressed once more. "And be honest, okay? Otherwise he really might bite it off tomorrow night."

"Nine," said Benedict. "It was really nice."

"Six," said Roger. David glared at him. "Okay, seven, then."

"Eight for me," said Joe.

Mike and Flip both gave him eight as well, and George gave him seven.

"Not too bad – nine plus seven plus eight plus eight plus eight plus seven – that makes…"

"Forty-seven," David told him.

"Okay, I know," said Joe, glaring at him. "I can add up, you know – just because I live on a council estate, it doesn't make me thick."

David bit his tongue to prevent himself answering that.

"Anyhow," Joe went on, "tomorrow you have to get at least forty-eight, or you'll be punished. Now, it's almost time, so… grab him!"

They all jumped on him, pinning him down. His hands were tied behind his back, his ankles were tied together, some sticky tape was put over his eyes, which effectively blindfolded him, and he was stuffed into a sleeping bag head first. He was then picked up and carried out of the tent.

He couldn't hear very much, and of course he had absolutely no idea where they were taking him. They carried him for what seemed like miles, until finally he was unceremoniously tipped out of the sleeping bag, naked, blind and with his hands and feet tied. He could hear quite a few people moving around nearby, but he couldn't work out what was happening until Joe spoke in his ear.

"In a moment I'm going to cut your hands free," Joe told him. "You're out here with the newest members of the other three sixes, and you have to find your way back to the camp without getting caught by Akela or Bagheera, or by any other grown-ups. None of you will be a proper member of the pack unless you succeed. Now… everyone else, get lost. I'll wait until you've gone, then cut him free."

About half a minute went by, and then David felt the string around his hands being cut.

"Have fun!" said Joe, and then David heard him running off.

It took him several seconds to get the tape off his eyes without ripping off his eyebrows and eyelashes in the process, but finally the tape came loose and he was able to see again. He looked around quickly and was just in time to see Joe climbing over a gate on the far side of the field he was lying in. Near him were three other naked boys, their hands tied and their eyes taped shut.

He undid the string around his ankles and went to the nearest of the other boys, a little skinny kid who looked petrified as soon as David got the tape off his eyes.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"I don't know. Keep still and I'll try to untie you, okay?"

David freed the first boy and moved on to the second, and then the third. Once all three were free he tried to work out where they were in relation to the camp, but it was dark, and the moon was hidden by clouds a lot of the time.

The two smallest boys looked really frightened, and one of them was crying, but the third boy was a bit older, and he seemed in better shape.

"Don't worry," David told them. "We'll find our way back to the camp easily. I saw which way they went."

"Really?" asked the smallest one.

"Really. Trust me."

"Why did they take our pyjamas?" asked the other small one.

"So we couldn't go and ask anyone for help. I really don't want anyone to see me like this, and I bet you don't, either. So we have to do this on our own."

"What's your name?" asked the smallest one, so they swapped names: the smallest one was Tommy, the second smallest was Pete, and the bigger kid was called Jason. David told them that his name was really David, but that everyone called him Gerbil. He didn't elaborate on the reason for that nickname.

David led them across the field to the gate Joe had used and climbed onto it, but he couldn't see anything he recognised.

"Have any of you ever been to this place before?" he asked them, but of course they hadn't: Tommy and Pete had only recently joined the cubs, and Jason's family had only moved to Cheltenham six weeks before.

"Well, you said they went this way, so perhaps we should just keep going across this field," suggested Jason.

"Yes, but… I'm wondering if it was a trick. Maybe Joe wanted me to see him so we'd come this way. Maybe he doubled back as soon as he was over the gate."

"So what do we do?" asked Jason.

"Well… if we walk in a straight line we'll have to hit a road eventually… or the river… The river would be better, because we know the camp is close to it."

"But if we're heading the wrong way, it might be miles before we find a road," argued Jason.

David knew that was true. He couldn't believe the others had been stupid enough to just dump them in the middle of a field and then run off. The two youngest kids were only eight, and it was no wonder they were scared: he didn't like their situation himself, and he was almost fifteen. But he knew they couldn't just stay where they were, so he jumped down on the far side of the gate.

"Come on," he said. "We might as well get going. I'm bored with this gate – let's go and find another one."

The others climbed over the gate, and David was trying to make up his mind which way to go next when Tommy grabbed his arm and pointed at the ground just to the left of the gate.

"Look, it's an arrow," he said, and it was, formed from three sticks and pointing off along the line of the hedge.

"You're right. Well done, Tommy. Are we supposed to follow it, do you think?"

"I think so."

"Me, too," said Jason. "It's a tracking game – they want to see if we can follow the trail at night."

"It's a bit dangerous, though," said David. "What if we hadn't seen the arrow?"

Jason took a few steps in the opposite direction and then called them over, pointing to a cross on the ground.

"Not this way, see?" he said. "Come on – I'm a good tracker. We did it a lot in my old pack."

The trail wandered about quite a lot, but the rest of the pack had done their best to make sure the true route was clearly signalled. Only when the trail led into a small wood was there a serious risk of losing the path, because the moon had gone behind the clouds again and it was really dark under the trees.

"I don't want to go in there," said Tommy, in a trembly voice.

"Me, neither," said Pete. "It's scary. There might be monsters in there."

"Not in Gloucestershire, I don't think," said David. "Come on, Tommy, I'll give you a piggy back. Jason, can you carry Pete?"

So they went into the wood. The track was wide enough for them to be able to follow it, but if the trail had gone off to either side David was sure they wouldn't have been able to see the arrow, so he had to trust that the others would have been sensible enough to keep going straight ahead. And a short distance later the track emerged into a field, and there was an arrow on the ground in front of them.

The rest of the trail was easy, clearly signed and in the open, and soon they found themselves in the same field as the tents. They ran the last bit and found the rest of the pack waiting for them, all except the sixers of the blues and greens, who had apparently been shadowing them, as they arrived just after the four naked boys got back.

"Good follow," said the sixer of the blues. "We've never done one that long before – normally it's only a couple of fields away. But we reckoned that you lot would manage it – I know Jason has done tracking before, and Benny and Joe told me Gerbil could do it, so we thought we'd see how good you were. We were trailing you all the way, so if you had gone wrong we'd have stopped you, but I'm glad we didn't have to. So, you're all proper members of the pack now. Well done!"

David felt good about that. And despite the fact that he was standing here naked in front of the whole pack, nobody was laughing at him. Of course, most of them had no idea he was nearly fifteen, but still…

"It was Tommy who found the first arrow," he told them. "I just followed him."

The look on Tommy's face made him feel even better: the little boy seemed about to burst with pride. And then he caught himself again: two months ago he wouldn't have been seen dead with this bunch of peasants, and the idea of saying nice things to make a little council house kid grin like a Cheshire cat would have been unthinkable. He really had changed, he realised, though he wasn't sure if he liked the way he was now or not. He supposed that it didn't really matter: once things were back to normal at home as well as at school he could get back to being his real, normal self, and then he wouldn't have to mix with kids like this any longer. After all, his mother wasn't going to stay in London for ever, was she? And then… no more Devlins, no more sleeping in the attic, no more cubs…

But as he walked back to his own tent with the rest of his six he realised that he would actually miss some of it. Right now, for instance, he felt a genuine sense of achievement in what he and the other three had just managed to do: apparently they had just completed the longest initiation track ever. And he had enjoyed the warm feeling that came from making Tommy smile, too, almost as much as he enjoyed it when Michael smiled at him at school, or gave him a little hug while they were in bed…

That's not real, he told himself, sharply. You only feel like that because of what else has happened to you. It doesn't really mean anything to you, and nor does Tommy smiling at you. It's just because you're all mixed up in your head at the moment. Once it's all over you'll be able to think clearly again…

But once back in the tent the others crowded round, congratulating him. Even Roger seemed to be sincere.

"Well done, Gerbil," he said. "I was lucky – I never had to do a track, because Joe joined at the same time as me, and when we came on our first camp we spun a coin for it and he lost. Mind you, you were lucky it didn't rain. If your little gerbil willy had got cold and wet it would have vanished altogether."

"If I bite yours off next time you put it in my mouth, yours will vanish as well, and it won't come back, either," replied David.

"I was just saying, that's all," said Roger, backing off.

"It rained when I did my track," said Benedict. "It was only a short trail, but it doesn't feel nice, walking about in the rain with nothing on."

"At least I bet yours didn't shrivel away to nothing," said David.

"No, it didn't. My balls got all hard, though. And…I think we should go to bed. It's after eleven o'clock."

So they did, and David went to sleep thinking that it was nice not to be treated like dirt for once: since the trail started he'd been made to feel a proper member of the pack. Of course, he told himself, it doesn't really matter what this lot think of me, because I'm better than they are… but still…

He quite enjoyed the next couple of days. All the other boys treated him well, and the activities the leaders arranged for them were interesting, even if the trail they laid on Monday morning seemed a bit too easy to follow fully clothed and in daylight.

On the Monday afternoon Jason came and found him and took him a short distance away from the tents where Tommy and Pete were already waiting for them.

"Chris – that's my sixer – says that when people do an initiation track together it's sort of special, and they should stay friends afterwards," Jason told him. "Okay, I know you're already ten, so you'll be going up to Scouts soon, and I know that you don't live on our estate, either. But it'd be good if we could all stay friends anyway."

"I'd like that, too," said Tommy. "It was really nice of you to tell them I found the first arrow. You didn't have to do that."

"It was true, though," David told him. "If you hadn't seen it I might have just taken us straight out across the field, and then they would have had to stop us and tell us we were going the wrong way, and that would have made us look bad."

"I reckon there was another cross straight ahead from the gate," said Jason. "Still, you're right, and it was Tommy that found the first arrow. So – are we going to stay friends?"

Tommy and Pete both nodded enthusiastically – they no doubt liked the idea of having a couple of older boys on their side. David could see no reason not to go along with it, because he didn't expect to be in the cubs for too much longer – so if it made them happy, why not?

"Okay," he said. "Let's."

So they shook on it and went back to join the others, and David thought that this was probably the first time in his life that someone had actually said they wanted to be his friend. Okay, these kids might be council estate riff-raff, but it still made him feel good about himself.

The only part of Monday that he didn't enjoy was the evening, because his own six, despite his acceptance as a proper member of the pack, still wanted to be sucked. But he still did his best, and even Roger was sufficiently satisfied to give him an eight this time.

At bedtime Joe took his sleeping bag and David's and zipped them together so that they could share a double – "That way you can keep me warm," he explained. David had got used to sharing a mattress with Joe by now, so he didn't argue about it. Once they had settled down for the night Joe cuddled up to him.

"You're doing really well," he told him. "You got forty-nine tonight, so it's obvious you were really trying. Of course, if you hadn't we'd have had to beat you up, but still… You know, we were going to do piles of bad stuff to you this week: we even thought of making you suck every boy in the pack, or getting Benny to fuck you in front of everyone. And Roger really did want to push you in the river. But you've been brilliant: you've joined in everything; you haven't argued or complained once, even when we make you suck. I wish we'd said you were only nine, so that you could keep coming to cubs for another year."

"No, thanks. I can just about manage a couple of months of this, but another year… no."

"Well, you'll still be here for the next camp, in the summer holidays. So you've still got something to look forward to."

David wasn't sure that he would have put it quite like that. Although, if it wasn't for being made to do sex for them, he supposed being a cub wasn't too bad…

Tuesday went well, too: he did his best in all the races and games that were organised for them, reasoning that they might still change their minds and punish him if he didn't try hard. And it worked: they were so pleased with his efforts that they didn't make him suck at all that evening.

"Of course, we'll still want you to do it sometimes once we're back home, but I reckon we can let you off tonight," Joe told him.

They went back home on the Wednesday, with David thinking that his position with the Reds had improved a lot: maybe he wouldn't have to dread Friday evenings in future. And Joe was being nice to him, and Tim and Molly were treating him fairly, too…

On the Saturday he moved down from the attic into Joe's bedroom, so he now had a proper bed to sleep in even when he wasn't at Michael's house. Of course, that meant that he could have stopped going to the Staggs', but… well, he didn't want to. It was nice being able to work on his homework with Michael. Of course, that was the only reason, he insisted to himself: the nice feelings he got when Michael hugged him or smiled at him were just the result of his thinking being messed up. He was sure that once his ordeal was finally over, all this imaginary stuff would just vanish and he'd be able to think clearly once more.

School started again, but Dhif made no attempt to contact him. In a way David was sorry about this: he just wanted it to be over and done with, so that he could get on with his normal life once more. But after another two weeks had gone by he started to think that maybe Dhif wasn't going to do anything to him at all: maybe he had realised that David had only been doing what was right.

David's school life was now almost back to normal: he was back in long trousers, and although some of the juniors – and especially 2C – grinned at him cheekily now and again, for the most part he was left in peace. Michael now sat next to him in the form room and in some lessons, and David still went to sleep over with him once or twice a week. Michael hadn't made any attempt to persuade him to have sex, though he did drop the odd remark into the conversation to demonstrate that he would still like it to happen.

David still felt confused about it: there was definitely a part of him that wouldn't have minded doing it again, though his more rational self was able to subdue this nasty, perverted desire most of the time. But just occasionally he would look at Michael and want to give in to his twisted wishes, and then he had to tell himself really sternly that decent, well brought up boys didn't do filthy, obscene things like that…

Another week went by, and the end of term was less than four weeks away, and now he was sure that Dhif was just going to forget about it and take no action. Of course, that would be the right thing to do: maybe he'd actually managed to make the little black bastard see that he shouldn't be in this school – perhaps he'd even started to make arrangements to move to another school in September. In fact, he might even decide to thank David for showing him how unwelcome he was at KEV… Yes, David decided, he was in the clear: there was no longer anything to worry about.

He had no idea how completely wrong he was.

Ah, the noble art of self-deception… David thinks he's home and dry, but in fact the worst is very much still to come. But before the sky falls in on him we need to catch up with Jordan: are things still working between him and his two 'little brothers'? And how are things progressing between Stephens and Baker? These questions, and more, might be answered in the next chapter!

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