Chapter 16

It was mid-afternoon when Miles, Louise, Walt, Abrams, and the dog returned to the school. On the way, they found an abandoned farm shed that was hidden from the road and about a mile from the school, where most of their loot could be well hidden. Knowing that Anthony, by now, had informed Carl of their expedition, they had brought back a small part of it. It was not yet the time for a confrontation. Much more preparation was needed, and deception was to be used. With some help from Abrams, Miles went straight to his office with the weapons and stocked them there. He then started leafing through some files and schedules while his thoughts were elsewhere.

He did feel rather good. First at the idea of deceiving Fisher, of course, but there was much more than that. Most of the optimism came from the scenes of Beau Shein and his group arriving at the food depot. The best part of all was the expressions illuminating the faces of the kids as they entered the vast space filled with food and beverages of all kinds. That moment alone was worth one hundred Christmas mornings. Those kids had been hungry and it didn't take long before they were all seated and devouring biscuits, candy, and anything that was readily available to them. Beau Shein, fearing an epidemic of bellyaches, had tried to get them to slow down, but without much effect. He soon abandoned the lost cause and was handed the weapons set aside for them. Miles and Walt could not linger long, and as they left, they knew those images would affect and stay with them for a long time.

As expected, Carl showed up within a few minutes after their return to the campus, he had obviously arranged for some of his prefects to be on the watch for their return. He was accompanied by Alex and Sean, the same two very good-looking young boys that had been with Carl the last time they met in his office.

Carl immediately noticed Dunn's interest and smiled.

"Hello Miles, I see you are not indifferent to my companions. Alex told me you were quite passionate with him the other day. I thought you might like a repeat performance, or perhaps try your luck with Sean, for a change. It is up to you. I still very much want to apologize for my rude conduct towards you at the assembly and without any warning to you, or your two young catamites."

Miles cringed at the word. Carl noticed, but carried on.

"Yes, why not call them in the most fitting way? Times are changing and we are now in a position where we can allow ourselves many liberties, don't you think? It's only the beginning."

Carl did not just express himself with words. He had taken a seat and put one of the boys on his lap, his hand first resting on the boy's naked knee and then traveling up to caress his thigh and pass under his shorts to get a feel of his crotch and its treasures.

"I see that you've brought us some interesting finds from today's raid?" he said.

"Yes, we've been lucky. As I thought, they abandoned some stuff when they left the food depot. Not as much as I had hoped and we probably weren't the first, but it's good stuff, some effective weapons and ammunition. I'll have it all taken to the armory."

"Nice work, Miles. Alex, go express our gratitude to Mister Dunn. Sean will keep me company here if you don't mind, Miles," he added. Carl then French kissed the boy, squeezing him in a tight embrace.

Miles was stunned by Carl's attitude, stunned and somewhat pleased. It seemed the man was losing all sense of measure. If Carl went on like this, it was probable he would alienate a large part of the school. Still, he must have felt the strong attraction Miles had for Alex. He seemed to have good instincts. Was he playing some kind of game?

"Why didn't you inform me of your intentions? You left with Abrams and Louise, I have been told, the best people to face a serious security problem here."

"Yes," Miles answered, "I should have told you. I made the decision at the spur of the moment. I knew the longer we waited the less chance we had to find anything, and I needed Simons and Abrams. I wasn't sure what we would find there, so I took a risk. We were not gone that long though."

"Well, what's done is done and everything's fine."

As they were talking, the boy was coming to him without hesitation and wearing a seductive smile. Miles was again troubled, it would be so easy to let go and take all that Carl was offering, side with him. Forget about right and wrong and indulge in the seemingly unending temptations the school and this new world had to offer. Before he knew it, the boy was beside him, offering himself, and seeing the man's hesitation. He bent slightly to bring his mouth to the man's mouth. Mechanically, Miles accepted the kiss, his hands taking possession of the slight body.

Damn! That's so great! So easy! He thought. Then he regained his composure, seeing he had Carl's full and very pleased attention.

"I see you are learning to appreciate my gifts. You have many to choose from. Sean here is very talented too, and all are ready to please. They've been groomed with great care and like it as much as we do, despite what was said in that all-knowing society that is now crumbling."

Miles had seated the boy, Alex, on his desk with a hand on the boy's thigh; he did not want to do more in front of Carl.

"I accept your gift, Carl, as an apology. But we still have much to discuss. You won't buy my support this way."

"I understand, of course, and if you prefer to enjoy him in private, we can leave you."

It seems Carl still wants to avoid any serious disagreement with me. He thinks… No… He knows, he needs me.

"Yes, I do prefer it that way. But before you leave, I have a few projects of which I need your approval before the next committee meeting." Stating it that way also showed Carl he knew that the committee was a smoke screen and that he was the man behind all the decisions given there.

Carl frowned, "What about?"

"First, we have seen many fires in the area. Mostly in town for the moment, but if one of them spreads to the forest north of here, with the dry, hot weather we've had and helped by some winds, it could become a major problem."

"Yes, we are surrounded by dense, heavily wooded forest. The area has always been at high risk for fires. But what can be done?"

"I think we could organize controlled counter-fires to clear a large area around the school, wherever the forest is close and has lots of undergrowth."

"Would you know how to do that?"

"Yes, I think so. I would need about a hundred boys, perhaps more to do it safely. It should take three to five days, if the wind is with us."

"If you think the risk is high, I agree with you. You should start as soon as possible, tomorrow even. Such an event could jeopardize all our plans and the safety of the school." Carl seemed genuinely concerned; he had understood immediately what was at stake. They could not count on the firemen anymore, and no one else could stop a potential fire.

"Indeed. I'll see to it tonight and try to put it all into effect starting tomorrow. I'll need detailed maps of the surrounding terrain."

"You'll find them in the school library. Alex can take you there, when you're done with him. Even better, I'll go with Sean and he'll bring them right back to you, here, at your office."

"That works for me. Then there's the Conner's farm."

"The Conner's farm?"

"Yes, it starts right on the other side of our fence on the west side. The boys that felled our gate came from there. I talked with them and I think we should try to take it over. It could prove useful for planting and harvesting crops. The school community garden was a nice start but will be far from enough. I'll need the names of the boys that participated in that project; we will start with them and then they will teach others. We might have fresh vegetables sooner than you think. They had animals at the farm too. We should consider bringing them inside our perimeter. Depending upon what shape they're in, we could have milk and meat for the boys."

"Interesting," Carl said.

"The cows have been left unattended for quite some time now," Miles continued, "and I don't know whether they were beef or dairy cows. We will have to learn to become farmers: gather seeds, learn how to plant them, and grow our own food. The Conner boys will be extremely valuable in that aspect. At their age, notably the older one, they should know how to run a farm, or most of it at least."

"When you have an idea you follow it to the end I see. Yes, those boys could have their use, especially the older one. He is rather comely too, which is a good thing. If we have to become farmers, then once again, our school library will be of great help. And to think there were plans to dismantle it and digitize it all… Why, it could be one of our major assets in the coming years. It has books on almost everything."

"We all have a lot to learn before we can rebuild it all. Classes are far from over, as you said during the committee meeting."

"Miles, I think we will do great things together. We do not agree on everything, but I see you have taken our school and boys to heart. Let's start on those projects right away. I'll go get those maps, have a good look at them, and tomorrow we will start working on it. You've well-earned your fun, my friend, make good use of Sean too, when he comes back. I'll find someone else. Pull up your shorts, Sean, we're going"

"I can manage with one, Carl."

"Yes, but why satisfy yourself with one when you can have two?" Carl opened the door and then shut it again and faced Miles. "Well, I almost forgot. I'm still very interested in young Matthew Perry. Since I share my boys with you, perhaps you might do the same and bring him to me, one day."

Miles paused for a moment to find an appropriate answer, without any hint of his pending negative response.

"I don't consider Matthew as an available boy. Anyway, I promised his father to watch over him. Sorry, Carl."

"Yes, I expected that answer, but you never know. Things will change around here–are changing right now, in fact. If an opportunity arises, don't forget I asked." He then left with Sean in tow.

It had already been a long day for Miles. He knew Sven and Anthony would probably share his bed that night, at least one or the other. Could he resist the temptations Carl had thrown at him? After a life almost completely deprived of that which made his dreams, now was a miraculous abundance of opportunities. Why fight it?

He pulled the boy to him. Death still loomed all around. Now was not the time to refuse what life still had to offer.

"Take off your clothes, Alex, or perhaps you prefer that I take care of it?"

"Why not, that could be fun."

"Okay, then, raise your arms."

Alex did Miles' bidding with an expectant smile. He had a slender and firm body, perfectly shaped ass, thighs, and legs with adorable knees. Striking features made mysterious by deep-set dark blue eyes, a pert nose and dimpled chin, and a ruby mouth, always smiling. He was hairless except for three new strands just above his tasty cock and balls. They were obviously important to the boy who daily counted them and checked for new ones every morning, he had been proud to point them out to Miles on their first encounter. His skin was velvety and flawless, adorned only by a few fading freckles on and around his nose, and a few scrapes here and there as expected with any young and active boy.

Miles lifted the boy's t-shirt above his head, pulled it off his gracile arms, and kissed the child's erect nipples while his hands took care of the button on his shorts and zipper. He then lifted the boy and pushed them down while continuing to kiss the exposed flesh, going further down. After giving an affectionate tug on his hard cocklet, he turned him around, laying him on the desk after clearing the place with one sweep of his arm.

"All set?"

"Mister Fisher had us put some lube in before; do it, please."

"How could I refuse you!"

Miles plunged forward and started an energetic fuck right away.

Ten minutes later he had his first very pleasant cum when there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" he asked, a bit out of breath.

"Sean, with the maps."

"Come in."

At the prospect of a new partner for his games, his rod regained some volume.

"You're getting hard again," stated Alex, rather pleased.

"Yes, thanks to the two of you. Sean, put the maps on the desk. Are you up for some games?"

The boy exchanged a look with Alex and satisfied by his silent answer, acquiesced.

"Well then, you see those bulletproof jackets and helmets in the corner?"

"Yes, of course."

Miles went to sit back on his armchair, taking Alex with him, still impaled on his hardening member.

"Take off your clothes and put them on."

"Naked? What for?"

"You don't mind doing a little show for me, do you? I just want to see how they look on you."

"But why naked?"

"Why not?"

"Sure, no problem, I see what you mean," he answered with a knowing air.

Alex had settled himself comfortably against Miles' large frame, sliding slightly up and down on the man's rod to maintain the sensations.

Sean had two attentive spectators now and indeed gave a good show, taking off each item of clothing one at a time and posing suggestively. He certainly had done this kind of thing a few times already for Carl Fisher and a few others. He knew very well what was expected of him and rather liked the exercise.

"Alex, do you know of the little dance Riichi does in his lover's lap? Could you do it for me?"

"Yeah, he's very good at it. I'll try."

He started wriggling his ass, intensifying his up and down movements and using the desk and armchair for support. It wasn't bad at all. In fact, it was quite good. He could concentrate on Sean's little performance while simply playing distractedly with Alex's pecker and balls, caressing a thigh or the child's flat and soft belly, or sometimes pinching a nipple.

Miles felt some remorse for using the two of them like this. It felt like he was in a bordello with two prostitutes doing whatever he wanted. He doubted he could behave that way with Sven or Anthony now, or perhaps only through a game with the boys' active participation. But it was so pleasurable, so extraordinary, so far from anything he would have thought possible before that he could not escape going through with it.

Sean was also a ravishing child, perhaps a bit thinner than the others were, and his buttocks were a bit flat. It was the reflections of a spoiled child; the one Miles was becoming with boys aplenty to use and enjoy at his convenience. It was unbelievable, and Miles realized the incongruity of it all. Still, he was hard as a rock and knew he would stay that way in every such situation, even if he disliked the idea that in those moments, there wasn't that much difference between him and Carl Fisher.

Now, Sean was putting on the bulletproof vest, at first with some hesitation, not quite aware of how to handle it. He figured it out quickly though, and the helmet soon followed. It was clearly oversized, a cute, funny, and exciting garb to wear for the child, which pleased Miles enormously. Only the arms and legs were left naked, with a small peak at the buttocks and genital area. The helmet came down to the eyes and needed to be held on by the strap so it didn't fall off.

"Come over here with it now, Sean"

Miles pulled Alex off his cock, lifted Sean onto the desk where Alex had been and effortlessly buried himself in the boy's hot canal. He came a few moments later and felt satiated. He kissed both boys, complimenting them. Then he told them to dress and sent them away until the next time.

What a strange fantasy, he reflected, once they were gone. At least he thought they also had both enjoyed the little show and the sex. They had both been erect the whole time and he had made sure they each achieved quite satisfactory dry cums.

He put aside one vest and helmet to take to Bear House. He would certainly have a few of the boys try it out, though with some regret, he did not think they would try it naked.

***

Louise had gone for a cold shower and then was set to oversee the training for "Dunn's Warriors," as they called themselves. The fifteen or so boys were given very special attention by Miles and herself. They were good boys and quite proud of having been singled out. There were new additions each day, and it was a pleasure to teach them. That day there was a new center of attraction for the kids: the dog she had brought back was making a big impression on them and they were all competing to get her attention, notably the younger ones. The dog was quite interested too, sniffing each one in turn and after a round of observation, letting them caress and pet it with good grace.

"Has it got a name?" asked Logan, the talker of the crew. "What breed is it?"

Johnny, who knew practically everything about animals, chimed in, "It's a great dog, a mixed breed that looks a lot like a Golden Retriever. They came from England in the twenties and they are sweet and gentle, good swimmers too. They are sometimes used to help handicapped people, like blind or autistic kids, but also for drug or bomb sniffing at airports and elsewhere."

"That's quite interesting Johnny. Anyway, that one fought well to defend her master, watch out for her bite. Logan, I call her dog, but you're right, she should have a name."

"Its got a collar, perhaps we can find the name tag there," suggested Bob.

"Have a look."

The boy, followed by his inseparable friend Matthew, bent over to look for an inscription but found none.

"Nope, there's nothing there."

"Let's think of one then," squeaked Logan excitedly. "Why not Ginger!"

The others then began shouting their propositions as well.

"Star."

"Lucky."

"Scout."

"Louie."

"Piper."

"Angel."

"Quiet boys," Louise said firmly.

Whenever she gave an order, everyone obeyed. They all fell silent.

"Since Logan was the first we will keep that name. Ginger, Right?"

"Yes, ma'am, that was my choice."

"Ginger it will be then. Now, let's get back to our lesson of the day, bladed weapons: how to use them, and how to defend yourself from them. Sven, Anthony, come over here…"

Louise opened a heavy bag that contained all kinds of knifes, hatchets, machetes, a short sword, and two Japanese katanas.

"Wow," exclaimed the boys as she placed them on a table.

"There, I think this will be enough for this first lesson," she said, as she placed the last of them on the table. "First of all, you have to learn the name and features of what you use. There are many different kinds of weapons in that category, with many different blades and possibilities. They are not interchangeable and each one of them can have a particular purpose. You have the needle point, the spey blade, the kamasu kissaki, the Wharncliffe blade…"

As she stated the names, she lifted each of the corresponding knives off the table an inch before placing them back on the table. The boys were watching her, fascinated. Even Ginger had some difficulty distracting them from what she was saying.

The dog was sitting during most of the proceedings, watching the strange spectacle in front of her. From time to time, she moved from one boy to the next, sniffing and licking at a naked leg or hand while they pet her. She finally settled herself beside young Logan, staying by his side for the remaining half hour. A few of the other boys, who were probably feeling slightly jealous, tried to get her to come to them, but it seemed that she had made her choice.

***

Cole was still under the bed. Carl had left him there all day, gagged and manacled, not allowed to move or make a sound. He urgently needed to go to the toilet; had for hours now. He was terrified of his bladder letting go. What Fisher would do to him if that happened? He was very thirsty too, still tasting the man's cock in his mouth.

Night was falling and he was desperate and broken, wondering what Fisher was going to do with him. He was ready to accept anything for the abuse to stop. Now that his father was gone, no one would care for him or be interested in his fate. He was convinced that there was no hope left for him.

He heard the door open. Perhaps he would finally be able to relieve himself; perhaps they would let him go; certainly, if he promised not to tell and to do whatever they asked of him from now on. He should have done that right away. How stupid of him to think he could stand up to Fisher and the club. It was stupid, stupid, stupid. He was stupid! But now he was ready and wanted to show them how obedient he could be.

There were at least two people in the room now, both adults. Since it was not little Enrico, perhaps he would finally get to come out from under the bed.

"Where is he?" asked Shirley.

"I put him under the bed. I'll get him out for you."

A hand grasped one of Cole's feet and dragged him out from under the bed.

"Here he is, poor little thing; though he's still very pretty," she stated, and then added, "A bit bloody."

"That's true, Shirley, that's why I want you to have a look at his hole. He has been bleeding all over since yesterday."

Once out, Cole had only one thought on his mind: to relieve himself. He was trying to show his distress but only unintelligible sounds came out.

"Seems he wants to say something. Let's put him on the bed so that I can have a good look."

"Calm down boy, okay? I'll remove your gag, but be quiet."

"I have to pee, please," Cole uttered, with a coarse voice as soon as he could speak.

"Of course; I don't think we've taken care of that since…well, I cannot tell. Let me think…" Carl took a pose as if in deep thought.

"Please, now! Please!" begged the boy, who was on the brink of letting go.

"Okay, okay, Cole, just kidding. I'll take you there." And he did, taking off the boy's manacles from his wrists and ankles.

Once in the toilets, it took some time for Cole to finally let it flow. He had been holding back for so long. It was even somewhat painful at first, but it was bliss, too.

"So, what are you going to do with him?" asked Shirley.

"First, I'll have you fix his hole, and then I'll keep him close to me to see if he behaves. If he does, I'll be able to give him some more freedom. Then it will not be that important. I want us to take the school over fast and do things our way. Once it's done, Cole can no longer be a problem. Let him tell his story or complain to anyone he wants, they won't care, won't even listen to him. He will be in the loser's camp. And I just saw Dunn; I don't think he'll be a problem either. There is still some resistance, he still has some scruples, but I think they are falling away with each day that passes and each time he gets his ration of boy ass that he has craved for so long. I left him with Alex and Sean; he must be enjoying himself immensely, even as we speak."

"I hope you're right. With his skills, it would be a real setback if he decided to oppose us. We have no one with his potential on our side."

"But we have the numbers and we've been part of the school for many years. He has only arrived here a mere month or two ago." He turned toward the toilet stall, impatient already. "Are you done yet Cole? I want to show your friend Shirley how obedient you've become. Come back here." Carl unbuckled his pants and pushed them down with his boxers. "Come suck me for a bit and hurry, we don't have the whole evening."

Cole, who had just started drinking at the faucet, left the toilet in a hurry and complied right away, getting down on his knees.

"Always knew he was a good boy," said Shirley who came closer to caress the bobbing head. "You have to let me borrow him from time to time, he was mine at first."

"As you wish, I want to be sure he behaves first, though. We will not be short of boys in the times to come." Carl turned his attention back to Cole with a half-smile, "All as handsome as this one. Come on, boy, you can do better than that. Give the balls a good lick too…yes…play with them a bit…that's a good boy," he said, as Cole complied. "You see how obedient he's become? Lick up my crack now, I'll turn around and crouch a bit to give you better access. Come on; dig in, put your tongue to it, in the hole there. Yes, just like that…don't be afraid, it won't bite, that feels so good…"

After another minute of it, he grabbed the boy's hair and pulled him away.

"Enough. Go wash your mouth and come back to the bed. Shirley will have a look at your ass now."

"What about the damage?" he asked, as she inspected the kid's anus. "Is it serious? When do you think he can be used again? Will he need stitches?"

Shirley had brought a flashlight to better assess the bruised and torn orifice. She clicked it on and gently brushed a fingertip across the tattered skin, which elicited a strained inward hiss of pain from Cole.

"Perhaps that would be best, but I'm no expert. Or perhaps two or three days without activity would be enough since that part heals fast, but you'll have to be careful the next time."

"I'll try, but if he doesn't behave I'll have no reason to spare him. Do you hear that boy? We can always stitch you up the next time, right Shirley?"

"For sure, Carl. If he gets too annoying, I can dispose of him. Ready for dinner?"

Carl was flabbergasted by the ease with which she had changed the subject. Switching gears from offering to get rid of the boy, which obviously meant killing him, to the mundane topic of their evening meal, was unsettling. He tried not to show his reaction.

"I'm hungry, yes. You can lie down on the bed now, Cole. I'll bring you something to eat. When I come back, I might be with Enrico, or perhaps others. Not a word about what happened, remember, you are to smile and act normal. If you behave and we decide that you can show up outside again, you'll have to say you were sick and stayed in the gymnasium for a few days. Understood?

"Yes, sir."

"Let's go, then."

Before leaving, he put the gag and one pair of manacles back on the boy; better be safe than sorry.

***

Shirley had been in charge of the infirmary for close to five weeks now and each day she had been confronted by sickness and death. It had brought drastic changes to her character. It had strengthened her. It had been difficult at first, but step-by-step she found advantages to her work. First of all, she had been able to observe which of the students could work with her and tend to the sick. That group now consisted mainly of boys unaffected by and indifferent to the fate of others; much like herself. She had selected them and planned to use them to impose their rule.

Then she took the next step, which was more important. She had seen Dunn dispose of Daniels and one other teacher to end their suffering. A lesson she quickly learned and endorsed. From then on, she took care of dispatching those who were too far-gone. It was a way to harden herself but also to lessen her workload, certainly not a negligible factor. Almost immediately she decided she would be doing it on a large scale to get rid of as many patients as possible, this, as soon as it was practicable.

The few scruples she might have left were disappearing fast. Toward that goal, she also labored to obtain the complicity of some of the prefects and boys she had selected with some success, making them her accomplices and tightening their bond. She did not use a knife as Dunn had; instead, she poisoned her patients. It was quite easy, and she had plenty of options to choose from with the large stock of medicines and drugs at her disposal.

Carl would take charge of the politics, while she was taking charge of the tangible means to achieve their objectives. She had heard of Dunn's Warriors, which was mainly a bunch of young kids he trained with that bitch Simons every evening. Now she had her own brigade; perhaps not as well trained, but ready to obey her every wish; most of whom would soon be able to kill without any remorse, of that she was sure. She made certain that they assiduously learned how to use the weapons put at their disposal, and using the fact that they were being exposed to danger at the hospital, obtained a priority status for each one of them. Even if Dunn, in the end, opposed them, she did not think they would be at that much of a disadvantage.

She knew a rumor was growing among the students, who had started to be wary of her and of those working at the infirmary, 'Shirley's Brigade', one could say. It was something that did not displease her; on the contrary, she eagerly welcomed the title.

***

Miles worked on the maps until ten that evening, and fortunately, when he returned to his room only Sven awaited him. He was already quite satisfied sexually after his romp with Alex and Sean earlier, and was now seeking affection and comfort rather than more erotic exploits. Had Anthony wanted to leave them alone for the night, or had he found another, newer partner? Miles didn't know, but he was sure that the boy loved sex and new experiences. Miles was rather tired after another harassing day and was more than happy to simply cuddle with Sven after a quiet bout of sex. He brought the boy to climax twice and came in his mouth, leaving anal intercourse for another time, Sven not being too fond of it and he himself having other available boys to do it with.

The next morning he left the boy, still asleep, to finish planning the day's operations. He went to the stables to saddle a horse and then went around the perimeter to check that the maps matched with what he saw with his eyes. It was to be very much like a military exercise. Once done and satisfied he went to take a shower, which was the best way to start a good day. He would have liked the company of one of his boys, but decided to let them sleep some more, after all, he needed to stay focused on the task to come.

After breakfast, Dunn, Fisher, and Abrams rounded up the prefects, so Miles could explain in detail the role each one of them would have in clearing a fire zone around the main campus. They each would direct a crew of boys aged fourteen and up, and assign them an area to work on. Miles knew boys and fire could make a very dangerous mix, so once they were all gathered at the campus quad, he stressed the importance of being careful and staying safe: they could not afford an injury; safety had to be first. Dunn pointed out the paths a fire could take to reach any of the main campus buildings, although mostly brick, the columns, covered entryways, and porches were wood. Many of the slate roofs had been replaced over the years with asphalt shingles.

Miles pointed out that a fire in the nearby woods could send embers in the direction of the buildings, and there wouldn't be a fire department to come to their aid, making it difficult to fight and contain. A fire close to a door or window could jump to the inside and destroy the entire structure.

The first phase would be to clear out the bushes and small trees that were growing close to the buildings. Next, wooded areas close to the main campus would be cleared back as far as possible. This would be accomplished by creating a firebreak and then doing a controlled burn back to the campus border, delimited by the fences and outer stone walls. Miles knew they would never be able to accomplish the whole task, but they would do as much as they could to increase the safety zone around the school buildings. It would be an ongoing effort.

Once the prefects understood the overall plan, and why this was necessary, they gathered into groups and divided up what tools they had, shovels, rakes, and pick axes; barely enough to go around, but since it was arduous work, it was better to have the boys take turns every hour. There were few complaints, even though the work had no particular appeal, and was made more strenuous by the heat.

The work of creating firebreaks seemed to go quickly, the boys talking and discussing the burn phase to follow, which would be much more exciting, and a lot less work. There was definitely a fascination for fire and dangerous stuff among them.

Miles had chosen a small area for a first test, which was not too heavily wooded, and mostly underbrush. As the wind was blowing toward the fence, he positioned forty boys, some with radios, around the burn zone, and ten more ready to intervene in case of need. All had the tools necessary to smother the fire if it went in the wrong direction or got out of control. When he set the fire, it spread fast and well, going where it was intended and dying by itself from a lack of combustible material along the edges of the cleared area. Then they moved on to the next burn, close to the athletic fields.

That first day was a clear success. There had been a few cuts and bruises, a couple of small burns, but nothing of real notice and despite the hard work and the day's unusual heat, the boys had liked it. Even the younger ones had joined, if only to help pick up and gather the branches and other debris produced. They would then throw the collected debris into the fire in order to watch it burn. Miles thought the process could be repeated for a few more days until their objective was reached. He planned to have Fisher and Abrams supervise it, while he took care of the Conner farm with Louise and some of his boys, the so called "Dunn's Warriors."

***

Sasha Bronski was desperate. He saw no solution to his problem. The ferals were massed at the entrance as if they knew he was coming and did not want to let him go. But that was impossible, wasn't it? Why would they gather in front of the gates? There was no sense to it. Were there others like him that had tried to escape Crestview? Would it be temporary? Would they move to another location later in the day, in two days, a week? There was no way to know that and in his gut, he knew they would stay there. He had observed them for hours now. From time to time small groups like the ones he had seen already left, while others arrived as if to replace them. It was absurd. What was the point? He had to find another exit than this one. Climb the wall? That was not impossible, but he didn't really know how to proceed…a ladder? A very big one, then. Where to find that? How would he bring it to the wall without being caught? Perhaps he could pass through it? It was thick and solid, it would take time, he would need tools, and it would make a lot of noise. Not good.

He had no choice, he had to leave the area; there were too many of them around. He took out his last Mars bar found in one of the houses. He ate it slowly, savoring the mixture of chocolate and caramel. Unfortunately, it was a little stale and did not taste as good as he had hoped. After gathering his few meager possessions, he went down the stairs cautiously, taking one step at a time and trying as much as possible to avoid making the slightest noise. He paused as he reached the bottom and listened for any sign of danger. Once he thought it was safe, he went to the exit porch, and at a run left the building to find some cover on the other side of the parking lot.

Once again, he stopped to observe the surroundings for any sign of danger. He definitely had to get out of here; otherwise he would lose his mind or get caught. That's when he took a good look at the vehicles parked a few feet away. There were three of them and it suddenly gave him an idea.

He retraced his steps of the previous day and waited until he had covered about a mile before he started searching. There were likely less ferals around and he would have more time to get used to driving. He wanted a car and the keys that went with it, which were probably inside the house where it was parked. If the car was there, it also meant that its owner had not left the house. He was either dead inside or transformed into a feral, potentially dangerous but certainly gone with the others roaming the streets, looking for someone like him to kill. He felt a shiver at that thought and froze, looking even more intently than before all around him.

Quite a few of the houses in sight had a car in their driveway or carport. He picked the first house with a car in front of it, quickly checking that it had an automatic transmission. He had no idea if he could drive one safely, but he was sure it would be much easier that way.

He then tried the door to the house and found that it wasn't locked. Immediately, he recognized the well-known smell of death. For once, it was reassuring and welcome for him as he entered quietly. Where could those keys be? He hoped he would not need to find the corpse and search its pockets. Where did his mother put them when she was home? He thought for a moment; on a table at the entrance, but there was nothing like that here. In the kitchen perhaps? He rummaged through all the drawers without any luck. He searched the living room next, followed by an empty bedroom, and then the garage. Nothing.

He had no choice; he had to go upstairs. Baseball bat in hand, he went up the steps identifying where he had to go without difficulty. He just had to follow the smell to the master bedroom, where it was stronger. He put one hand over his nose as he entered, not really wanting to look, but knowing he had no choice. With a sigh of relief, his eyes immediately fell upon the car keys, which had been left on a dresser to his left. He grabbed them and exited as fast as he could, not wanting to see the body on the bed. As he reached the stairs again, he heard a noise coming from a room to his right.

He stopped and turned around. There was a big slam against the door. Somebody or something wanted to get out, wanted to get him! A second slam, stronger than the first, and Sasha flew down the stairs, jumping them four at a time, the keys held firmly in his fist. Abandoning any caution, he ran to the car, pushing all the buttons on the remote to open the doors. He heard the click and rushed inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

It was his very first time behind the wheel and he had never been very attentive of how it all worked. It was an older model, and soon he found where the key fit. He turned it, hearing the motor turn over. But it did not start. He sent occasional glances towards the house; he had left the door open and feared that a feral might suddenly stumble out of it.

It was his first time at the wheel. His heart was racing. Got to focus. It was an old Ford model, he found where the key fit…turned it…heard the motor…but it wouldn't start! Shit! Too much noise! The door to the house was still open. Any moment a feral might come rushing out of it. Noise would attract more: he was a sitting target. Spotting the power door locks, he pressed it, locking all the doors. Concentrate! Got to start this damn car. The pedals! Perhaps you had to press them. They were barely reachable. He moved the seat forward, the farthest it would go, and checked again to make sure that nobody was around.

He turned the key for a third or fourth time and pushed hard on the brake pedal; at last, he heard the motor rumble. He was about done now; he had played enough car racing games to handle the automatic transmission and know when to turn the wheel.

He saw them at that moment, perhaps ten or fifteen of them altogether. He heard a thud behind him, which made him jump. The feral in the house had been locked in the room, unable to open the door; he had jumped out the window instead. But Sasha didn't care anymore; he was on the move now to his immense relief, trying to get a better handle of the vehicle. It was easy, even if he was barely big enough to reach the pedals or see over the dashboard. He could manage. He was accelerating, and then testing the brakes, just to get a feel for them. It was fun, and suddenly he didn't feel afraid anymore. The ferals in the mirror were fading away. In ten or fifteen minutes, he could be free. It was simple; Main Street was straight on to the entrance, he would go there a good distance away from his goal, then go at full speed and ram the gate. Nothing could stop him now.

Along the way, he met with a few ferals from time to time, but even when they tried to stop him, he proved too fast for them. There were only two instances in which he had to slightly change his course to avoid hitting them. That would come probably later; he didn't want to damage the car in any way before he absolutely had to.

Here he was, on Main Street. He put on the safety belt, took a deep breath, and felt a strange rumbling in his belly as he pushed on the gas pedal.

Traveling at sixty miles per hour, they did not really see or hear him coming. He was able to avoid a few at first but soon started to hit them, sending a few in the air and feeling each thud, hearing the sound of the bending metal, breaking glass, the pop of snapping bones, and seeing sprays of blood. He was almost there; he could see the gates and the lowered light barrier that delimited them. He would break through them effortlessly.

He heard a strange sound coming from them all, a shout similar to the one released when they had chased him the other day. He was now in the thick of it, the thuds multiplying, giving him strong shudders. One of them went over the hood and hit the windshield, breaking it partially. It got stuck there and obscured his view. The car began to slow down. He grabbed the baseball bat instinctively and used it to push the body away. The car was making strange sputtering noises now, but at least he was still moving.

He was at the gate. It broke effortlessly but he now had some difficulty controlling the car. Some body parts were stuck in the front and the hood was deformed. After all those shocks and trying to keep his course straight, his arms felt like they weighed tons now and he could barely use them. He knew he had to turn to catch the exit road; he had to slow down. He pushed on the brakes and the car skidded to the left but he was able to recover. When he pushed on the gas again the car sputtered and came to a dead stop after a few hundred feet. One glance in the mirror told him he had to get out of there and fast. They were coming after him. He tried to open the door but it didn't budge. It was stuck!

***

At dinner, it was announced by Shirley that Rose Eldricht had fallen sick, and had been taken to the gymnasium. That left only thirteen adults to supervise the students. Eight were still being taken care of at the infirmary, as well as seven boys in various stages of sickness. There had been over sixty deaths since the beginning of the flu outbreak.

As the dining hall was emptying, Miles stayed behind to have a long talk with Chad, the eldest of the three Conner brothers. He questioned the boy on the layout of the farm, what crops they grew, what animals they had raised and where to find them. He was told that the livestock had been set free by his father to fend for themselves, just before he sent the boys to the school. Finally, Miles asked the boy if he would be willing to go back with them.

"I don't really know," answered Chad who was quite articulate and had given well thought out answers.

"I can understand that. There is no obligation, but I had to ask. I didn't want you to regret not going later on. Perhaps it's for the best, your father and mother should still be there, one way or the other. It could be difficult for you."

"Yes, but I know the place. I could help and save you time. Is Walt coming?"

"He is, with ten other boys and Miss Simons, all on horseback. None of us has worked with animals before, and it's true that you could be really useful."

Miles had noticed that the three Conner boys, notably Chad, were often seen with Walt, who had become a sort of chaperone for them at the school, helping them to fit in and protecting them from those who thought they did not belong here. And there were quite a few that thought that, Carl Fisher's work in part, but not only him.

"I won't let you down. I know that without you, and Walt, we could have fared much worse here. They could have thrown us out even."

Or worse, thought Miles, who feared how any future refugees might be treated.

"I'll come."

"That's brave of you. We'll try to shield you as much as possible. If you feel bad and want to quit, all you need to do is to say so; I know it will not be easy for you going back there. We'll be leaving in the morning, once the controlled burn operations have begun.

As Chad left the table to go to the dormitory, Miles thought, he is a smart boy with heart and good looks too, one of those boys worth fighting for. There were many like him in the school and Miles felt he had made the right choice. He would side with them and continue to do all he could to try to create for them a better, safer future. He also knew that he would use any opportunity to get close to them. He was fed up with years of loneliness and abstinence. They were the embodiment of all he wanted in his life, whether for a few hours, for simple sex, or even better, to develop a real bond with some of them. There would be no more moral issues on that matter. It was now or never. A Damocles sword hung over everyone's head, with no one knowing when it would fall and on whom.

***

The Conner farm raid could have looked a lot like Miles first riding tour with the boys a few weeks ago, on his first weekend at the school. The difference was the guns and other bladed weapons that everyone was carrying. Bob had adopted the Crossbow, a TenPoint Nitro X as his weapon of choice; he had practiced a lot and had become very skilled with it. It could be useful if silence was required and was an interesting asset for the group.

Miles had refused at first to take the younger kids with him, but he was finally convinced that it was a reasonable option. He had trained them intensely these last weeks, and they would have to get their feet wet sooner or later. They were proud to be, as they liked to call themselves, "Dunn's Warriors." He had spent many hours drilling them with weapons and military techniques: how to follow orders, exchange information in silence, how to move and deploy, avoid taking unnecessary risks, and how to protect each other. Today, he would see if his lessons had been assimilated.

He was quite confident that with the presence of Louise, all would go well. After all, they would only be beyond the limit of the school grounds.

The boys were Anthony, Sven, and his friend William, Chad, of course, Johnny, the Edwards twins, Matthew, Bob, Patrick, and little ten-year-old Silvio Pieri. Then there was Walt Turner, Mike Healy, and Arthur Banks, the womanizer. These last two were the most recent additions to the group and all seniors. Lucas Cooke, Ernst Muller, as well as the other Conner boys had been ordered to stay at the school this time; Logan Stamm, who didn't want to leave Ginger alone, could not come either.

The boys, contrary to what many would expect, were rather subdued and quiet. Dunn felt proud to see them realize that going on a raid was no adventure and a very serious matter. They would fall back to their usual selves later on, for sure. But for now, they showed they had understood what was at stake and were concentrated on the task ahead. Even Johnny had stopped making a fool of himself. It was a surprisingly silent group that left the school that morning and they made quite an impression on those who witnessed them leaving.

Everyone had been given a place in the column and was to keep it. Miles was up front with Walt and Chad. Louise and Arthur were at the end, and Mike in the middle. They went the same way that the Conner boys had taken to get to Saint Xavier. The farm was only three miles away and it took them thirty minutes at a trot to get there.

Leaving the road and crossing a small wooded area, they came upon the main farm, which was made up of three buildings. The house where the Conners lived and two barns: one for the animals, and another that stored hay, and feed, and also served as a garage for their vehicles.

Miles pulled out his binoculars to look for any signs of menace or simply any movement at all. The place did not show too many signs of neglect yet, though he immediately saw that something was amiss. Apart from a few chickens here and there, there was no movement whatsoever.

"Looks deserted and very quiet. Chad, what do you think? Have a look."

The boy was obviously trying to hide his emotions and put on a brave face. Unfortunately, it did not really work. The parents that he had left sick barely a week ago were probably dead and their might be bodies lying close by.

"You still think you can do it?" asked Miles the boy gently.

"I have to," he answered.

"Okay, Louise, you cover for us and watch the surroundings. You'll be our sniper. Matthew will stay with you to watch your back and the horses and I'll take the lead with Chad, Walt, and Arthur. The others will spread behind us in a half circle as they've been taught. Keep the safety on your weapons unless I tell you otherwise or you come under attack. Practice your trigger discipline and before shooting, identify your target. I want only single shots, no automatic fire unless there is a good reason for it. As I told you before, watch each other's backs. We are a team. We work together. Understood?"

They all agreed with a, "Yes, sir."

Then they moved forward with their weapons at the ready except for Chad, whose eyes darted here and there, trying to anticipate the sight he feared the most, which so far remained hidden.

The smaller building was the house in front of them, and it was the one they would visit first, if only to check on the whereabouts of the boy's parents. Miles went in cautiously, telling Chad and the others to follow only when they were told it was safe. He entered the family room and saw that there was an open kitchen on the right and stairs going up on the left. The room was cozy and rather well decorated. There was a pungent smell lingering in the air and he had no doubt of its origin.

"Chad, just tell me where is your parents' bedroom is and I'll check that first. Stay here."

"Up the stairs, room to the left."

He went up, still on guard and looking all around. The door was closed. As soon as he opened it, the smell assaulted him. There were two bodies on the bed and the sheets covering them seemed to have been drenched in blood. The father was lying on top of the sheets at the foot of the bed, almost cut in two. The mother was there also, slumped over against the headboard, facing the window. She was naked and immobile, and Miles could not see her hands. She could be dead but he wasn't sure. He felt a presence at his back and then heard a slight gasp.

"Chad, stay were you are, don't go any further."

He retraced his steps backwards, his eyes fixed on the woman, as he searched for a movement, a sign of life. At the door, he turned and shot a glance at Chad who had stopped at the top of the stairs, one hand over his mouth and nose due to the stench.

"Go back downstairs, there's nothing you can do, nothing for you to see here."

Chad did not argue and went back slowly down the stairs as Miles turned to face the bedroom again. He was thinking they would have to bury them; they could not leave them that way.

He turned back towards the gruesome scene to see that the mother was gone from the bed.

She came at him from the left, in silence, a smile on her face. The large butcher knife she held was mere inches from his chest when Miles fired. The bullet pushed her back against the nearby wall. She was dead before she reached the ground.

Chad was back up the stairs instantly.

"Why did you shoot? What happened? Why did you shoot?…Mom…Dad?"

"Calm down, Chad. Calm down. It's all over. I had no choice. You know that. Calm down."

Miles had taken him in his arms, trying to block his view of the scene. Holding him tight, he took him back downstairs without resistance.

"It's all over, son. I had no choice. You know that, don't you?"

"I know, sir, but it hurts. It hurts so much." Tears were in the boy's eyes and he was shaking, in a panicked state.

"It does, I'm sure it does. I'm sorry, son. We won't leave them like that; we will bury them. Do it right."

There was no answer, just a deep sigh.

"Walt, take him outside. Then go tell Louise everything is under control, and have her bring the horses with Matthew. Then you'll stay with Chad while we take care of everything else here. Tell Arthur and Mike to join me here in the house, no one else."

"I'll do that, sir. Come on Chad. I will take charge now." They left the house close together, Walt's arm wrapped affectionately around the younger boy's shoulders.

Miles had feared it would go wrong, and it had. It wasn't the worst-case scenario since none of the boys had been hurt, except for Chad, of course. It was their world now; they had to harden themselves, to accept what had to be done. Nothing could really prevent it. Risks had to be taken for the benefit of them all. Chad seemed a strong willed boy, and Miles hoped he would overcome it and not hold a grudge against him for what he had to do: for asking him to come with them and witness that.

Arthur and Mike helped him wrap the bodies in clean sheets that they found in a large wardrobe. It was not a pleasant job but they behaved well for the teens that they had been before those last few weeks, well kept away from life's hardships, and made no fuss. Mike did retch a few times, but that was all. They brought the bodies down, one at a time, having added towels to absorb the blood from the mother's wound and avoid it seeping through the cloth. The father had been dead days ago.

They buried the two bodies behind the house. Then they called back the boy and everyone else and all stood around the grave, Miles then said a few words.

"I did not know your parents, Chad, but I think they were good people. They raised three fine boys and they did all they could to try to spare them, and save them from a terrible fate. They sent you away, to us, which shows true love and courage. Let them rest in peace."

"Amen," added Louise

"Do you want to say something, Chad?" asked Miles.

The boy nodded yes and took a few paces forward.

"Mom, dad, I promise I'll take good care of Mikey and Louis. I want you to know that we're safe at Saint Xavier; we've found good people there, as you hoped. I won't… We will never forget you… Goodbye."

Tears were now running freely down the boy's cheeks, and he was not the only one. All the boys present were thinking of their own parents, who probably, for most if not all, had known a similar fate. There was a moment of communion around that heap of earth where all those present could mourn their loved ones and there were quite a few tears. They stayed there for a good five minutes after the last word was said, consoling each other. Miles, Louise, and Arthur went from boy to boy, taking them in their arms and sharing with each a few words of solace. Walt remained by Chad, who was still crying softly.

After a few more moments, when everyone got back a grip on themselves, Miles spoke again.

"Walt, you'll stay with Chad. We'll give him some more time. I want to have a quick look around, and then we'll go back. No one will be in the mood for anything else today, we will come back tomorrow."

That decision was taken in common agreement and they left the two boys alone to mourn by the graveside and resume their exploration of the farm and its surroundings..

***

Miles had a look at the two other buildings again. Apart from a few chickens, they were empty; all the animals had indeed been freed. He could tell they were mostly cows and pigs. Upon their return trip, they found some of them in a nearby field a mile away from the farm. They would have to round them up the next day and try to bring them back to the farm or to the school. For that, the help of the Conner boys would be necessary. No one else had any ideas of how to manage livestock. Then they would have to move the livestock food stored in the barn too. Having them on the school grounds seemed the best option, and Miles thought they could do that in two stages, the first one being simpler and easier, giving them the time to learn some of what was needed to achieve the second part successfully.

"Sir, come quick." It was young Silvio, who looked quite excited. "I found one of the cows; it's hurt a leg or something. What shall we do?"

Miles followed the boy. The animal was hidden behind a small copse of trees. It was dying; it had broken a leg, probably a few days ago. The whole group was soon gathered around the poor beast with anxious and questioning looks.

"I think the only thing we can do is put it out of its misery," said Miles

"Shouldn't we ask Chad?" said Matthew.

"No. There is nothing else we can do," Louise answered.

Miles pulled out his gun. "No need for you to see this, boys. Go back to the farm and see if you can find something useful to bring back with us. At least we will have fresh meat for a few days."

"Poor cow, are you sure there's nothing that can be done?" asked Johnny in a distressed panic.

"Sorry, Johnny, it has to be so. Come on kids, go. No need to let it suffer any longer."

They left with regret and rode back to the farm. Miles waited for them to be some distance away before shooting the animal in the head, it died instantly. He left to find some sort of transport and returned fifteen minutes later with a cart and ropes. They secured the animal to the cart and began to haul it away with some difficulty.

"There's a pickup truck behind the barn that I can use to take it back to Saint Xavier," said Louise.

"Time to go then, we just have to pick up Walt and Chad on the way," answered Miles.

***

Still standing beside the grave with his arms wrapped around the young mourning boy, Walt was lost in his thoughts. Their closeness was comforting. He had been moved, hurt by feelings of loss he had left buried for weeks now, and in a way, he was mourning, too. He had gotten quite close to Chad in the past few days, learning a lot about the brothers and their lives on the farm.

For sure, Chad was hot. It was not like with Sven, but still he liked the kid. He was a pretty kid, a bit girlish in his looks, but all boy in everything else, kind of a rebel too, on many levels, and not afraid of bending the rules. Chad had told Walt that he liked to smoke, had been drinking beer, and had practiced some sex with his brothers. They had even started their own kind of wanking club. Walt suspected he was bragging in part, clearly wanting to shine in front of him, but there was also truth in what he said. It had been easy for Walt to get close to Chad, which was all he wanted, someone to trust and confide in. Chad, in turn, seemed only to want someone to take away some of the burden of caring for his two younger brothers.

Walt was responsible, appreciated, friendly, and reliable. Big and strong enough in case of need, and Chad felt safe by his side. It hadn't taken Chad long to understand that here, many did not welcome him or his brothers. These others thought that with their way of speaking and their worn clothes, they were nothing more than white trash. Excess baggage they would love to get rid of. Whatever the circumstances, they were out of place in an upscale school such as Saint Xavier.

It had been a good start between the two of them, but Walt wanted more. He wanted what he had not been able to achieve with Sven. His desires were now well established and accepted. Girls were not on the available list anyway, and would not be for some time, if ever, as they had been told. Boys would have to be on the menu now; Chad would be perfect for a first experience. Perhaps it was easier for Walt to move forward because the boy was an "alien" and had not been at the school before it all started. He had some experience with girls and hoped it would not be that different with boys.

What had unfolded at the farm would impose delays though. He could not jump on the kid under such circumstances. He would have to wait a few more days. It would be totally improper to act too soon. It was a shame; he loved the feel of the boy in his arms, his abandonment. He knew he should drive away those thoughts, but the more he tried, the stronger they became. He pressed himself against the hot, frail boy, who responded naturally. It might be wrong, but it brought the consolation and contentment that they both needed.

Soon, Walt was erect, and due to his superior endowment, it could not be easily missed by Chad. Still, the boy did not pull away; on the contrary, he started grinding himself against the teen. Does he know what he is doing? Of course, we should stop right now!

"I feel it, Walt. I don't mind, I like you."

"I like you too Chad. You really don't mind?"

"No, it feels good to feel you like that, I kind of need it."

"Are you sure? I don't think it's right. Not in this place."

"It is. Nothing much matters now, only the moments we share."

That could be true.

"There's only the two of us here anyway. I want it, I need someone."

Chad turned around to press his body against Walt's, facing up to look at him in the eyes, his head barely reaching the teen's chest. Walt could not resist. He bent down for a lingering and wet kiss, tentatively pushing his tongue forward, meeting the boy's. He cupped Chad's firm buns, lifting him up slightly to grind the child's hard, young stick against his own engorged erection, and Walt soon exploded in his pants. Then his eyes fell back upon the grave and he suddenly felt ashamed.

Not here, not now, he thought again, it's all wrong: Eros and Thanatos, what a strange mix. But it was done, and there was no way to undo it. His only worry was for the boy. Would he feel guilty of doing it in front of the freshly dug grave of his parents? Was it, on the contrary, his way of saying to them that he was alive, that he was not alone?

"Sorry, Chad, I should not have let that happen, not here, not like this. It was selfish and rude of me."

"It was as much me as it was you, Walt. It was nobody's fault. I wanted to be as close to you as I could." He tentatively stretched his hand out and touched the teen's withering member through the slacks. "It's sure big, bigger than I thought it would be… When it's hard, I mean."

Walt smiled.

"Yes it is. Does that scare you?"

"Depends on what you mean to do with it. I'm not used to ones that big. Well, horses have big ones, but I never played with them, only with my brothers and two friends at school."

The ice had definitely broken, and now they could talk openly of any subject, intimate or not.

"Honestly, I never played with one except mine. I've known only girls so far. I would gladly try yours."

"Really? Mine is ridiculously small compared to yours."

"Who cares, we can always try. What do you say?"

"Kiss and wank, that's all?"

"Yes, if that suits you. Let's find a quiet place when we get back to school, this evening, or rather, at some later time. It would not be right otherwise, don't you agree?"

"Yes, of course, but soon," Chad added expectantly.

The boy stayed silent, huddling against the much taller teen. Walt understood that after that moment where their libidos had taken over, with an overflow of grief and abandonment, they were again more hesitant and unsure of their desires or of how far they wanted to go. It was as well. He would respect the boy's wishes; let Chad come to him. The boy needed his attention and support and he would be there for him in whatever capacity was required.

***

Arthur Banks had been moved by the scene, being reminded of the unknown fate of his parents and two sisters in Charlotte. He liked the way Dunn had handled the situation and his attitude with the boy, Chad. He thought more and more that he had made the right choice.

After overhearing the conversation in the chapel a few days back, he had been indecisive, wondering if he should go back to Eagle House or stay with the Bears. He had listened attentively to what was said around him and at first went back to his dormitory, not wanting to be associated with Dunn and his crew of fags.

Soon however, he was confronted by the same thing at Eagle House, only on a bigger scale and with the repulsive overtone of bribery and coercion. Boys his age, seniors and prefects, were taking advantage of the companion system without regard to the fate and well-being of the younger boys. They used them, exchanged them with each other, and openly discussed their criteria of choice, as they would do for a piece of meat at the supermarket.

To his surprise, the juniors accepted what appeared unacceptable to him, for as little as a pack of cigarettes, an hour or two in the game room, or a full battery for their phones or laptops. It was all revolting and after surprising his roommate with another boy, it resulted in one night spent sleeping under the stars. The following morning, he decided to leave the Eagles for the Bears with the intention to stay this time. Strangely, he never thought of the Puma House option, perhaps because he had made his choice and would stand on Dunn's side from now on.

At least there, it was less crowded and he could have a prefect room for himself. There was no pressure to conform to the new trend, either. If he wanted, he only had to avoid Dunn and his "warriors," who had established their headquarters in four cannibalized bedrooms. They kept getting new recruits and expanding. At the same time, he had to recognize there was no proselytizing that he could see. Things were being kept discreet, for the most part. There could be boys holding hands and occasionally a kiss or two, but the conversations were normal and not dedicated to sex or who would be the next fuck.

Out of curiosity, he had gone for a look and met with an atmosphere that was very much like an evening gathering at the scouts. He was relieved and started to see Dunn and his boys in a different light. Not that he had changed his mind, nor would he ever adopt those ways. But it kind of became bearable to the point that he volunteered to help in whatever capacity was required.

The respectful ceremony for Chad's parents had been one more reason to consider that he had made the right choice. Despite Dunn being a pedo, as incongruous as it could seem, he was also a decent person that could be trusted, well…perhaps not with your son.

He was still bothered when he saw signs of intimacy between the man and a boy but he just had to look the other way. He had no problem with anything else there. In any case, he had no real choice; he had to stay. He did not think he could leave on his own. The idea had crossed his mind a few times; he could try to go to Charlotte. Try to find his family. He had talked of such a project to those who, like himself, did not adhere to the new politics of the school. Those that dared express their opinions, that is. But nothing really had come of it. Perhaps, like him, because they feared that if they succeeded, they would not like what they found.

Now, his main enduring hope was to find a girl for himself, get back to some sort of normality. Once that was done, he would certainly see things differently and could start a new life. That was why he had volunteered for any raids outside the school; there had to be some female survivors out there. She couldn't be too young or too old of course, and it would be even be better if she were pretty. He could be her savior! That was a nice fantasy to have in mind and it could come true.

***

Burt Algood was content and worried at the same time. Content because he had found ways to satisfy his needs. He had recruited two more boys to service him and fulfill his important compulsions. He had also convinced Ethan to let the man fuck him, an event that was set for this evening. It had taken some time but now they were kissing and really making out, not just wanking or quick blowjobs anymore. The boy had finally agreed to the real thing. It was so exciting. Sodomy was something he was used to doing with some of his female partners, but for different reasons. Some wanted to avoid getting pregnant, a few others just because they wanted to try it or liked it. It added spice to the relationship, besides many other things.

Before the Shanxi flu put an end to it, he was used to having sex with at least three partners a day. Sometimes two different women in the same evening, it was his drug and he dedicated all of his free time to procuring it. A lot of money had been spent on his habit too. He was always thinking about it, from the time he woke up in the morning until he went to sleep at night. His address book had been massive, his Facebook and other social media overdeveloped, the work of his life, now useless.

He was also worried because he questioned his actions. In other circumstances, he would have never thought of using boys in such way. Ethan was barely twelve, the other two probably younger. He did not force them, of course; he had just used the opportunity that had been presented to him. It was Bradley that had started it all, but he was the adult and those children depended on him. It was not the first time that his sex addiction made him do things he was ashamed of. He could not fight it; he had to accept it. On the other hand, to redeem himself, he did all he could to care for them as much as possible. Still, he thought it sickening.

"That's good Joe, play with it a bit, lick the tip. You're doing great."

He hoped he could convince at least one of the other two to let him fuck them too; it was so much better than a simple blowjob, so much more intimate. Little Joe seemed a good candidate, always ready to please and appearing to get some satisfaction from it. The first time he had accepted being naked, he let Burt play with his body and sported a solid erection.

Burt had started caressing and kneading his bubble butt, closing in on his ultimate target without any complaint from the boy. He was not as good looking as Ethan was but was still quite pleasing to the eye. He had a mop of reddish blond hair, a cute sprinkling of freckles across his nose and upper cheeks, and had a well-formed, lean, boyish body, without the rounded curves of an older girl or woman, of course, but still quite agreeable. Anyway, it did not matter that much, as it had been with the girls he had known–it was the act that counted. His partner's looks were secondary, and also, it seemed now, it didn't matter whether they were male or female.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"You know… "

"Ah, that. Don't you like it? Do you know what it's for?"

"It's made to poop. That's what it's made for. It's dirty."

"Yours looks quite clean. That's rare in a boy your age; at least, I think it is. But it can be used for other things, ask Ethan."

The boy raised his head, halting his current ministrations with a questioning look on his face.

"What for?"

"Don't you know? I thought a boy your age would already know everything about it."

"Tell me, please."

"Well, I don't know if I should…"

Burt thought things were going well, better than he could have expected. Boys, it seemed, were not that different from girls. He knew, and had practiced all of the ploys needed to obtain what he wanted.

"Yes, yes, tell me, please."

"Perhaps I could show you?"

"Show me? What do you mean?"

"Well, for that I need the right tools. Turn around let me see what can be done."

After a slight hesitation, the boy offered his butt for closer examination.

"Well a nice, clean butt and hole. Lovely."

"What can you do with it?"

"Wait, it needs some preparation first."

Incredible! Burt would have never thought it would be so easy. It was only five in the afternoon; no one would disturb them before dinner at six, so he had plenty of time to achieve his goal. Maybe Ethan would not be his first boy fuck, but his second–two in the same day! That was crazy, but it would feel so good.

Yes, he thought as he took out the lube from the side table drawer, I'll try it with Joe first, then have the whole night with Ethan. It was perfect, undreamed of. This day was turning out much better than he had imagined.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting you ready. You'll love it. Put my cock back in your mouth, it needs your attention."

"Well it's so hard it stands on its own."

"Play with it some more."

Burt felt the boy's mouth engulf the glans and suck on it. He himself started to work on the boy's ass and hole with his mouth and tongue. The boy was clean, having taken a shower just before. Luckily, they still had running water, but it was cold, which was not a problem with the warm weather. He made sure all the kids had one shower each day.

Joe stopped sucking and licking for a moment, surprised by these new sensations in his backside, but soon resumed his services. He seemed to be rather pleased by the new feelings.

"It tickles," he said between mouthfuls.

"That's just the beginning, you'll see."

After a few more minutes of rimming the boy, Burt went on to the next phase. He generously lubed two fingers and started pushing one in, and then the other, stretching the hole and feeling for the prostate. He had read that it was a sensitive spot and if he could use it right, it would probably help him a lot. The more the boy enjoyed the preliminaries, the more he would be willing to accept what came next. Unfortunately, on that matter, he could not have any hint from his previous experiences in sodomy since it had always been with women.

"How does it feel, Joe, do you like it so far?"

He felt a small nub under his finger. Was that it? He rubbed it and immediately felt the boy's rectum contract while shivers seized his young body.

"Wow! What did you do, that was great. Come on, do it again."

Burt rubbed some more, eliciting sounds of delight with more shivers of pleasure and contractions around his fingers. After a few more minutes, Burt thought the boy ready. Okay, let's get down to business; I think the boy is stretched enough.

He pulled Joe off his turgid cock and rolled him onto his side with his two fingers still at play in the boy's hole. He then generously lubed his member that was already sticky with the boy's saliva.

"Get ready for the real thing Joe. It might hurt just a bit at first, but soon you'll get those good feelings again. I'll go slow, and stop if it hurts too much, just tell me if it does."

The boy suddenly showed some fear and worry.

"You want to put your cock inside me? I don't want it to hurt. Aren't you too big?"

It was true. Now that the boy was lying half beside and half under him, the difference in sizes was striking: the boy's petite form dwarfed by the adult above. Burt realized how wrong it looked. I should stop. I must stop. But as those thoughts had formed in his mind, his member was at the entrance and he started pushing in while pulling out his fingers.

"Push, as if you were going to poop. It will make it easier."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I've done it lots of times."

"No, I don't want to. It's dirty… it's gonna hurt…"

"We're almost there; you don't know what you'll miss. Believe me."

"I don't know. I don't think I should."

He had changed position, doing his best to hide Burt's desired target.

"Come on, let me try. I'll stop whenever you tell me." Burt was worried; he was feeling his erection slacken. He needed it as hard as a rock if he wanted to pass the boy's ring. He rubbed himself to maintain its hardness. "It's up to you, Joe, I thought we were friends."

Joe, finally, resumed his previous position, signaling that he had given in to the man's desire. Burt did not wait a second, immediately placing the tip of his glans against the boy's slick hole.

"Here we go!"

Man and boy were holding their breath, awaiting the outcome.

Burt kept up the pressure, but he was not making any progress. There was always the temptation to force his entry, but he knew it would hurt the boy. As horny and eager to get satisfaction as he was, it was not an option.

"Do as I told you earlier, push, don't be afraid."

"But…"

"Come on, push. Don't worry, it's the best way."

Finally, he felt the muscle relax. His next try was a success; he was in and felt his glans engulfed by the boy's hot canal. He had used lots of lube, and he was able to move forward inch by inch. The boy was whimpering but did not seem to be in pain.

"Are you okay? How does it feel?"

"Not too good. Not like you said it would."

"Just needs some time. It's coming, I'm almost there. I'll be able to rub that spot again."

"I'd rather have your finger."

Burt kissed the boy.

"You're a good boy. This way, we both get some rewards. Here we go, hold tight."

He held the boy in a tight embrace and began thrusting in and out, trying to put the most pressure on the boy's sensitive nub. It worked almost right away; the shivers and spasms were back. After a short grimace, a smile was forming on Joe's face and he suddenly seemed to enjoy the ride.

Burt, unsatisfied as always, was already thinking ahead. Ethan would be next; he knew how to proceed now, it would be easy. Next, he would like to try it with Raoul, but again, that would not be enough. Mentally, he was already reviewing all the other possible candidates. He was sick and he knew it, but what could he do about it?

Unknown to the man and boy on the bed, Bradley was at the door, watching. He had opened it without knocking. The question he had come to ask did not leave his mouth. He was not surprised by what he saw; he had suspected for some time that there was something going on between Burt and some of the boys, but notably Ethan. Until now, he had not dared go that far with any of them, wanks and blowjobs, nothing more. He had wanted to try it and now that Burt had shown the way, he knew it would be his turn the first chance he had.

***

Roy Neary took off his sunglasses and went to the balustrade that encircled the terrace to have a look at the action below. He called his gang the Ravagers; an appropriate name, he thought. A few of his men were having some entertainment again, the cruel kind. The booze certainly had helped. They had captured several ferals and had chained them to a car in the middle of the street. The chains were three or four meters long, giving them some freedom of movement, but that was just the start.

There were some variations to the game they would play. One would be simply to find imaginative ways to dispose of them, challenging each other and taking bets. At first, it had been mainly that. Then they had found other ways to amuse themselves. When one of the Ravagers fell sick, rather than kill him as had been their practice from the start, they would give him to the ferals. The bets were then on how long he would last, how many of the ferals he could dispatch, if any. This was still rather acceptable since the outcome for all the participants had to be death.

That's when Colman got his idea.

They had weapons and armored vehicles, and they looked formidable. When they arrived in a town, many of the survivors flocked to them, most of them children, thinking they would be their saviors, often asking for food and above all, protection. Most of those children were useless to them. At best, they were ignored. Some of them, the better looking ones, would be used to satisfy his men's sexual drives and perhaps some more sinister ones. He suspected that besides being fucked, tortured, or simply killed, one or more of them might end up being eaten, too. After all, there were a lot of lunatics among his troops, the mental ward had been well stocked with them. He didn't really mind. After all, it was the end of the world, nothing really mattered anymore… And fresh meat was scarce.

When Colman decided to pick kids to give to the ferals during their games, one or two at a time, it was rather well accepted. You could say even embraced by a large number of his troops. The basic rules were simple; for ten minutes, the kid had to avoid getting caught while staying within reach of them. If he strayed too far, he was shot in the leg and given to them. Very few made it to the end, and along the way, many variations were made to the rules to make it more interesting and fun. They were given weapons, they were stripped naked, they were impeded one way or another…

"Come my pretties. Come look, the games are starting," said Roy.

The pretties were Liz, who was sixteen, Maggie, thirteen, and twelve-year-old Jules. Their only function now was to serve their master and benefactor, the leader of the Ravagers.

"Hurry up Jules, or do you want to be the star of the next game? There are many others who could take your place, there is no shortage of pretty boys… and there are even a few girls left," he added, as he cupped Liz's rump, not wanting to let the girls think they were less dispensable.

If there had been no flu and the knowledge of his own impending death, he could have considered it was the very best time of his life. Who could have said that, only a month before?

At that moment, he was still an inmate at the Lieber correctional facility. He had been there four long years already and could expect to stay there fifteen more if he counted the sentence remission. When things had started deteriorating, he was the one who had taken the lead and managed to unite them all under the Ravagers banner, this despite their past enmities, making of old enemies, temporary allies.

Out of the two thousand inmates, only about three hundred and fifty had left the place alive, and now only one hundred forty of those were left. They had armed themselves; found vehicles, and went from town to town, with no other goal other than looting, drinking, giving in to their drug addictions, raping, and killing: simply trying to take advantage, in the best way possible, of their last days in this world. They had adapted quite well to this new world now populated mainly by children and ferals.

"What is it going to be today? I see; a new set up. Looks good to me," Roy commented, while sitting on a couch with his three pretties.

They had a perfect view of the action from there. He put Maggie on his lap, entering her cunt from behind. The two girls and the boy were usually naked in his presence; he could watch the proceedings while playing with Jules' firm buns on his right and Liz's young boobs on his left.

On the ground in front of them, Colman was pushing two boys forward, brothers by the look of them. The oldest about fourteen, armed with a spiked club and bound by one ankle to the younger one, perhaps ten, who was defenseless.

The spectators were gathered all around, most of them with a boy and a few with a girl or young woman beside them, shouting encouragements, either to the brothers or the ferals, as they placed bets. Money had no value anymore, now the currency was food, weapons, favors, or whatever child slave they were in possession of.

"If you make it through we will let you go and we won't touch either one of you," said Colman with a smirk. "Give us a good show and you might leave with some food and a weapon."

The three ferals were in good shape and quite strong specimens. It would be over in no time. Roy would not bet on those two. Two more ferals were stored close by and five more children were waiting for their turn to join the show. He hoped Colman had thought of ways to make them last longer, otherwise it would make for a boring night.

***

"Fresh meat from the farm."

That was the word that made the rounds at the school as soon as Miles and the boys had returned. Also, with the agreement of Carl Fisher, Miles had decided to organize a great barbecue for the next day. It would make for a festive dinner, something they would all appreciate.

The counter-fire operations were moving forward at a fast pace and would probably be almost over by then. That would be one reason to celebrate, and there would be a second one if they could bring back some of the cattle from the Conner farm that same day: quite a program for boys who knew nothing of the ways of cowboys or farmers. They spent the remainder of the afternoon with Chad, who taught them some of the maneuvers and ploys under the supervision of Walt.

Miles watched them with great satisfaction and noted that their team spirit was developing nicely. With all the uncertainty about their future, it was a very good thing. His experience in the military made him acutely aware of that.

At the center of it were Dunn's Warriors, but now many more boys aggregated to the initial group. Most were from Bear House but also some from Puma, thanks to Sven's and William's influences. Even a few Eagle boys who they said disliked the new ambiance there had joined. Arthur, since he was with them, had been quite vocal about that. Perhaps, faster than they expected, there would be a backlash against Fisher's way of running the school.

Miles had used the opportunity to take some free time for himself and was now sitting under a tree, watching the boys–his boys, and listening to Chad. He had been so very busy and for so long now. When did it all start? Only a month ago, two? He could not really tell. It had seemed very long and very short all together: so many events, so many emotions. Changes had come that had been completely unexpected, some terrible and heartbreaking, some wonderful and heartwarming, one event after the other and sometimes several at once, unrelentingly.

He felt good. He had to say that, even if it could sound crazy or absurd in this apocalyptic context. He loved those boys, and he loved what he did for them and with them. The sex, of course, was a part of it. He had been at the right place at the right moment. He could not think being or wanting to be anywhere else. He had never known such a sense of happiness, of fulfillment. All the people that counted for him now were there around him in this school: Louise, Abrams, and the children.

Matthew, the first one he had met and related to, had become his ward and the forbidden love; Anthony, the lure, the gateway to forbidden pleasures, and always so full of surprises. Sven, the beautiful bold child who had taught him so much, granted him his unconditional love, and all the others he wanted to care for but could not express his affection for except by striving to keep them safe. Johnny, Logan, the twins, the German brothers, Chad, Walt, Bob…

A long moment later, he opened his eyes. He must have fallen asleep; Sven was lying against him, his head on the man's shoulder. They exchanged a tender smile. He passed his arm around the child and then slipped his hand under his t-shirt, laying it there on his soft skin, at peace for the moment.

Transcript from WCSC, Live 5 News, The Lowcountry's News Leader

RIDGEVILLE, SC (WCSC) – April 7 2018
------------------------

The Lieber Correctional Institution is a maximum-security state prison for men located in Ridgeville, Dorchester County, South Carolina, owned and operated by the South Carolina Department of Corrections.

When entering South Carolina's most dangerous prison, the first thing you notice is the noise. The second thing you notice is the smell. It is obvious that Lieber Correctional Institution is no country club.
Take an inside look at the Lieber Correctional Institution.

"Forget about the fancy facade, you know, the bricks the landscape, it's still an all-male penitentiary," said Lieber Prison Major John Merril.
More than 1,500 inmates live at Lieber. The prison is surrounded by razor wire so sharp that it will cut or even kill. It makes it virtually impossible for prisoners to break out."

"They don't want to be here," said Warden George McMillan. "They broke a law to get here. Our responsibility is to make sure they stay."

It is just as tough to get into Lieber. In this special report, we had to remove our shoes, walk through a metal detector, and get patted down by an officer. There are 251 officers to watch over the inmates. They include Capt. Isabel Herrero who has worked at the prison for 16 years.

"In the beginning, it was a little scary for me being a female and dealing with all of the hardened criminals," Herrero said. Early on, Herrero said she worried about possibly getting killed.

"That thought has crossed my mind in the beginning," Herrero said. "And that's only normal to feel that way when you initially come inside the prison, listening to the doors slam behind you."
Officers say that contrary to public perception, most of the inmates get to go outside.

"They think that the inmates are certainly locked behind the cell doors and they're walking around every day, just like you and I," Herrero explained.

Actually, the inmates walk right next to the guards, as long as they stay between the yellow lines. Some of them are cold-blooded killers and are always being watched closely by the officers.

We got to tour one of the most dangerous parts of the prison called 'Lockup'. It houses some of the most violent offenders. Anyone who enters that area has to wear what is called an anti-stabbing vest and a face shield for protection.

"You control every part of their life and if you are doing it right, they can't do anything to you," Herrero said.

But the inmates can make life difficult for the folks who work here. The contraband team seizes hundreds of cell phones that are tossed over the prison fences. Lieber is also home to death row, where convicted killers wait to be executed.

After taking this tour, it makes you wonder why these men and women want to work around such dangerous people. There are several programs in place at Lieber to help inmates re-enter society. The warden is starting a character unit that will allow well-behaved inmates to spend more time out of their cells.

RIDGEVILLE, S.C. (WCIV) – Update April 14
-------------------------
State authorities are investigating the death of an inmate Friday at Lieber Correctional Institution in Dorchester County.
Forest Luds, spokesperson for the S.C. Dept, of Corrections, confirmed Friday an inmate was found unresponsive in their cell at the prison Friday afternoon.
The Dept. of Corrections is not revealing the inmate's name at this time, as authorities are still working to notify the person's family, Luds says.
SLED and the Dorchester County Coroner's Office are investigating the incident.
It is the third such incident in as many days.

Chapter 17

Greg shut down the motorcycle two hundred yards from the nearest houses. His destination held three small condominiums and about twenty houses on the outskirts of town, the kind of place perfect for young families with kids. After hiding the all-electric Zero SR, not completely silent but still perfect for stealth, he found a good vantage point and observed the area for signs of life. He had started those expeditions three days ago, at the insistence of Carl.

Fisher did not trust Dunn that much and wanted to know from a different source what was going on outside the school. Carl also seemed to have a secret agenda. He wanted to know where to find survivors whether in large or small groups. He was particularly interested to know if there were women or girls among them. He seemed to have ideas on how to make them an important asset for the future of the school. Greg had accepted, on the condition that he went alone with the motorcycle. He had wanted to try it for quite some time, it had been owned by one of the recently deceased teachers. He scrupulously noted on his map every relevant location he had found. But he had other plans himself besides following Carl's demands. Since the raid at the food depot and the meeting with that miserable group of children, he had thought it would be rather easy to catch one and have his ways with him or her for that matter. Greg was interested in getting a much more immediate satisfaction.

For the moment, the Saint Xavier boys were out of bounds to him. He could fuck the willing ones, and he did, play a few of his tricks with Milo, but the more serious games that plagued his mind were out of the question. It was becoming kind of an obsession since that wonderful night with Anthony, who was not to be touched either, since he had a part in Carl's schemes. He had to do it again. He needed to, he wanted to, he was going to–today.

He now realized it would not be that easy. It would even be dangerous. Ferals were everywhere and far from stupid as he had experienced himself. Their rage had died down; they now behaved more like animals and usually in packs. Their objective had not changed though, to kill those not like them. In the last three days, he had had two narrow escapes already. And it was not only the ferals either. The kids themselves and other survivors could be a problem too, they were distrustful of strangers, and many of them had weapons and were not afraid to use them.

In fact, for Greg, it all added to the thrill of the hunt, the rush of adrenaline, the anticipation, it was extraordinary.

He had not seen any ferals around that spot, only a few groups of people, kids, moving around the previous day, even a few single ones. Now he had to get closer, catch one, and get back to his motorcycle.

Most of the activity was around the condos, so he decided to make his approach through the group of single homes. He would use the cover of the woods, and then he would go house to house until he met some potential prey. For this first time, he would take whatever seemed available and easy. He needed a young one, light enough to carry and control if he needed to make a fast retreat to his motorcycle. He had secured a safe place close by to enjoy his catch later.

He was getting to the third house when he heard voices:

"Where did you get those?" It was a young kid's voice.

"Easy, you just have to look for them, they're all over." A teen.

The voices were coming from the other side of the obscuring fence he was creeping along.

"Can you give me one? I want to try." Certainly a boy.

Greg smelled a lighted cigarette close by.

"Go get your own."

He found a gap and observed the boys with trepidation. Calm down; let's not make a mistake now. Take your time, he thought.

There were only two of them, one about fifteen; his face ravaged by acne, the other one, a little blond angel perhaps nine or ten. Lucky guy. The older one had a machete in a sheath swinging by his side.

"Come on, just one. You said there were plenty." He was trying to charm the teen but without much success.

"Yeah, but you got to find them."

"Come with me then?"

"No way, I got other things to do." He was obviously bored but he was not going to give way to the child's demand.

"Please. You know I can't go by myself. Melly would kill me."

"Melanie? Yes, she would." Some silence followed.

Greg was studying his options. Jumping them both and catching the little one seemed very risky, they were clearly part of a larger group with at least one girl that was of interest for his other agenda. If they called for help, his escape could be compromised…Menace them with his gun, dispose of the older one, and leave quietly with the younger boy. That could work but was still prone to unexpected mishaps. Wait it out and see if an opportunity was offered was the best choice for now. The conversation seemed to be leading that way.

"Just tell me where to find them then. I'll go myself." There was some hope in the little one's voice.

"You know you can't do that. I won't let you."

"What would you want to let me go?"

"Nothing you can provide Wee-wee." The teen, at last, had a smile and looked at Wee-wee–to see what effect his words could have.

"Don't call me that. You know I don't like it."

"What you like and don't like doesn't matter." Now he was beginning to have fun and it showed.

"I know what you like…"

"Which means?" He furrowed his brow.

"You know."

"You're playing a dangerous game, Wee-wee." The teen had a taunting smile.

"I could tell Melly."

"That could cost you."

"Melly would kill you."

"Okay you win squirt. You got five minutes; the Robert's house, in the cupboard under the TV. Bring some more for me too." The teen was again bored and wanted to end it now.

"Right away," he replied with glee.

The kid was on the move and Greg was following. Everything was working without a glitch. Not only the boy would be alone but also he was going in the direction Greg had come from. Too easy!

The prefect waited until they were some distance from the other boy and checked that no one was in sight before making his move. He grabbed the kid from behind, clasped his hand onto his small mouth. Lifting him in his arms, not stopping and accelerating his pace he said in the boy's ear, "If you make a sound or resist me in any way I'll kill you and I'll kill Melly later. Understood?"

After the excitement, he now felt calm and determined. The boy's little frame was tense and trembling. But there was no attempt to escape his powerful grip. Five minutes later, he was back at the bike. He had borrowed a few gadgets from Carl's collection, a gag and hood and plastic manacles to bind the boy. Once secured, he placed him in front of him and pushed the start button, there was a hiss, nothing more and the motorbike was alive. They would reach their destination in less than fifteen minutes, it was one pm; Greg would have more than three hours to play with his new toy; poor little tyke.

He had found an old isolated cabin in the woods and had prepared it to receive his guest; the straps, chains, and other restraining tools came from the school infirmary. The kid could scream his lungs out, but no one would come to help him. He lifted him to his shoulder and entered the place, which smelled of dust and coffee. He put him on the bed and began unwrapping his plaything, finally getting a good look at him.

He took off the hood and gag. The kid was quietly crying, sending timid glances around, not daring to meet his captor's gaze. He then cut off the plastic cuffs and went on by cutting away his tee shirt, and then pulled down his shorts and underwear.

The kid was not offering any resistance, petrified by fear. He finally uttered a few words.

"Please stop. What do you want to do?"

"Just have some fun. Don't worry I won't hurt you."

"Fun, what do you mean?"

"You'll see. What's your name?"

"William, Will. Are you going to take me back now? I won't do it again."

"Do what"

"Go by myself, I'll stay with Frank. I promise."

And all for cigarettes. Poor little thing, we are far from done. "Let me have a good look at you. Stand up and turn around."

"What for? I want to go back."

"I don't care what you want. Do as I say or you'll regret it."

The little boy stood up and obeyed all of Greg's demands. He was a pretty thing, for sure, with a well-proportioned body, full ass, just a hint of baby fat left, and a nice little cocklet and a tight sack with tiny balls. His skin was blemish free and so soft. Greg had been hard since he grabbed him and now needed some release. He opened his pants and took out his erect cock.

I got a job for you, Wee-wee. I'll need your mouth first. Do you know what I'm talking about?

The kid was standing there open mouthed; clearly not understanding what was expected of him.

"My cock needs your mouth, you dummy."

"Don't call me that. I won't do it."

"Little shithead, you'll do as you're told." Greg caught him from behind his neck and pushed him forward to his knees. The boy's face was inches from his large shaft but still the boy seemed to have no idea of what he had to do.

"Come on do it. I'm sure you know what I mean. Isn't that the little secret you were talking about with Frank?"

"What secret?"

"What did you want to tell Melly?"

"Oh that. You want me to do that? No way!"

"You'll have to though."

"No it's dirty. You don't do that, it's forbidden. God forbids it."

"What's god got to do with it?"

"Frank does it, looking at girly magazines. I saw him; he had a picture of Melly too. He didn't want me to tell."

Greg was irritated. Something was wrong. It was not working. He had dreamed of this moment. Thought in detail of all the things he might do to the kid. And now that he was on the verge of achieving his goal, he was feeling uncertain. The kid was a total innocent. He had no idea what was awaiting him. It was disturbing. It was not fun.

"Open your mouth. I'll teach you how to please your friend, Frank."

"I don't want to please him. He is mean."

"I think you have no idea what mean is."

"Sure I do."

"How old are you?"

"I'll be ten soon."

Perhaps not so soon. Yes, it was no fun. What was exciting was the victim's anticipation, his fear. With this kid there was close to nothing of that. Or perhaps Greg was chickening out. Now that he was confronted with the real thing, he couldn't do it… With Anthony, it had been different; he knew he had to stop at some point. Here, there was nothing like that. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

"Let's stop playing. Now kid, open your mouth and get to work." Let's get some release; things will be better after that.

He roughly pushed his cock into the kid's mouth; face-fucking him mercilessly; cumming fast down his throat.

Will, now crying again freely, started vomiting right away in response, while trying to catch his breath back. Greg pushed him away to avoid getting any of it on him.

His bad temper flared up and he hit the boy on the head with his fist. He would have continued but the boy was out cold. He sat back on the bed, wondering what to do next.

First of all, he knew deep down that he was angry with himself. He also felt bad; he was not ready for what he had planned. He could not do it. He doubted himself, which was a rare and terrible feeling for him.

At least he had had one good fuck. Not believing it himself, he pulled up his pants, picked up the unconscious kid, got the motorcycle started, and rode back to where he had grabbed him, about a hundred yards down the road. He had to be careful, people were calling the boy's name, and searching the area, he left him at the edge of the woods, naked and still unconscious.

***

When Greg got back to Saint Xavier, he was still angry with himself and quite befuddled. How could he have allowed such an opportunity to escape him? He had total freedom and could make real his darkest fantasies and even worse how could he have brought the kid back to safety or at least as close to it as he dared. He should have kept him for another day, by then, his inability to perform what he had planned–dreamed–would have been gone. Had he chickened out? What had come over him? He had anticipated that moment so much. He knew from the start that he wanted to go to the end, to snuff the kid, any kid. He wanted to see what it felt like. To feel his victim's life taken away little by little. To play with … without concern for what might come. But it looked like he didn't have the guts to do it. He suddenly felt the rage that had left him come back at once. He wanted a second chance, he wanted revenge, he would go back, find the kid again, or another one but preferably that same one. He had to erase that moment of doubt. He was not like that; had never been. What was happening to him?

Preparations for the evening barbecue were in full swing. The ox Dunn had brought back the day before was to be the main course. The atmosphere at the school was for once rather festive. He went to give his report to Carl who was himself quite busy getting his scenario ready. He was going to use Dunn's idea and opportunity for fresh meat to his advantage, it was going to be kind of a celebration but of a different kind.

Louise Simons, with the help of a few of her boys, was getting the beast ready and roasted.

Carl had committed to providing the beverages, adding some unexpected entertainment. They were taking out the beer and mixing the sodas and orange juice with vodka and other drugs given by Shirley. Carl wanted a very dissolute night, all his boys were going to provide and provoke what he considered to be its main purpose. With all those half-naked boys, hormones, fears, lusts, hopes raging all around, he expected to achieve the perfect mix and have the whole school align itself to his own desires and wishes. An all-out orgy was not totally out of the question. In fact, he would very much like to see that, what a sight it would be, and it would settle things once and for all. Once that step was taken by the vast majority of the students, there would be no going back. He was quite sure of that, after the deed was done, all that had been planned next would be effortlessly implemented.

"Greg, you're back at last. That's good; you're very much needed for this evening. You're the only one I can really trust, you know." Carl saw right away that the boy was not his usual self.

"What's wrong? Any problem during your reconnaissance? You weren't hurt?" he added, with a worried look and doing a rapid look over the young man.

"No, don't worry, just something bugging me, nothing of importance."

"I hope so. I count on you to supervise our boys and make sure there are no incidents, perhaps a few minor ones are inescapable though with the drinks provided. I'll need you and a few others to stay sober. But, apart from that, you are due all the gratification you want. If it works the way we planned it, it will be a very lively night for all of us."

"True, I would not mind getting some virgin ass to play with," he stated with a real eagerness. His old self seemed to be coming back, hopefully.

"You should get a few opportunities then, indeed, my boy."

***

Louise had already been hard at work for two hours. The animal had been gutted and cleaned of its skin the day before. But she still had to cut it into workable parts and set the fires going. Fortunately she had the invaluable help of some of the boys, notably Sven, William, the Muller boys and Logan, now followed everywhere by Ginger.

It was a relief because the boy had a strong tendency to keep asking questions and talking almost endlessly. It was not as severe as a conversation with Tanner Holt, but still could be annoying at times. Since the dog had taken a liking to him, the boy saved a lot of his questions for Ginger and also provided the answers, which made his company sometimes quite funny and much more agreeable. When not talking to his dog, Logan's main interlocutor was Sven with questions about Dunn. Logan for sure was not shy and bombarded the poor boy with a very wide range of them from the mundane to the embarrassing and indiscreet ones.

Sven answered as he could and did a good job of it when most boys his age would have simply discarded the younger kid. He also enjoyed the company of the dog. So each one of them found their interest satisfied. Logan, through Sven, felt closer to Miles, and Sven was entertained by Ginger.

Louise was getting quite fond of this group of boys and a few of them in particular more than the others were, with Sven, Bob, Matthew, and Walt coming to mind first. All were exceptional boys, through their personality, intelligence, or kindness toward others. Bob was certainly the more complex, Sven the most passionate and emotive. Walt was all empathy but with a strong will. Matthew was intelligent and naïve at the same time.

It was hot. It had been unnaturally hot and dry for weeks now, and it showed in the way everybody dressed. The boys went half-naked, some with shorts and nothing else most of the time. She had insisted that her aides wear shirts and pants to get close to the fire. They were all sweating profusely.

They were lucky; against all odds, they still had running water. Showers with fresh and cool water were a blessing nowadays. As the evening got closer, a crowd of hungry boys was gathering around them. Fisher had had the tables and chairs set outside like for the after show cocktail. For the occasion, ice would be used to refresh the beverages. Louise had frowned and been surprised to see beer cans being readied but fortunately most of the beverages were in large juice or soda jugs. They were about ready to start serving the meat. The side dishes, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob were near done too.

"Boys, I think we all need to go take a fast shower before the start of the festivities. The appointed prefects will take over the job from now on. I'll just have to supervise the proceedings. Let's go."

***

Sasha Bronski was free from Crestview but was still alone. He had hurt his right ankle while trying to escape the ferals and he didn't know exactly when it had happened.

Once he had seen the car door was stuck he had had a moment of panic, then looked at the cracked windshield, the impact of the ferals' bodies had certainly weakened it. He raised his feet, settling himself against the seat and hit it with all the force he could muster, it deformed slightly, fissures appearing everywhere but did not break as he had hoped. He thought of using the gun but first hit it again and this time it fell to pieces. As fast as he could, Sasha, after throwing his bag out of the car, followed, clambering over the wheel and dashboard, careful not to get cut by the glass debris.

Once through, he picked up his bag on the hood, his feet touching the ground in the same movement. He barely dared to look back to see the first ferals, no farther than ten feet with about one hundred more coming for him at different paces. He sprinted away as fast as his legs could muster, keeping to the road. He was soon outdistancing them but waited to go through a bend in the road, out of sight, to leave it and reach a patch of woods on his left, becoming invisible. He had learned a lot and become wiser than his years in some areas these last days.

Still, it had not been easy to lose them; the chase had lasted for more than an hour. He was exhausted physically, mentally, and had had to stop soon after escaping them. When he had tried to walk again, it had been near impossible. He had limped to a nearby isolated house, fortunately empty, and stayed there until the next morning. There was some food in a cupboard, and exploring, he found a crutch that would be very useful over the next few days. There was also some gel in the bathroom he could apply to his throbbing and swollen ankle.

When he woke up the next day, his gun by his side, he applied some more and then tried to stand up. It was much better, he noted with a smile; he almost didn't need the crutch anymore.

He had shown great strength and resilience so far but could not put up with this loneliness anymore. He decided to spend the day in that house to rest his ankle but to leave it the following day and head in the direction of home. He had not totally abandoned the hope that somehow his mother was waiting for him there.

As he came out of the house, he had not forgotten the caution acquired during his lonely and harrowing stay in Crestview. He kept the same behavior on his way, being silent, always looking for cover, and stopping from time to time to observe his surroundings. It also helped to rest his ankle, which was not much of a hindrance anymore.

After an hour or more, he encountered the first inhabited areas, whether it was stores on the border of the road or small housing communities. He exercised additional caution but moved on with determination.

The next hour was without any encounter or event.

Sasha had stopped in front of a drugstore. It had been pillaged already, probably a few days ago. Still he went in to see if there was anything left he could use. He was almost done when he heard a motor, a car, or something bigger coming his way. He hurried outside.

There were in fact two vehicles, filled with kids and teens many of them looking drunk, still with cans of beer or bottles of stronger stuff in their hands. They did not stop when he signaled to them; they didn't even slow down. He had to duck when he saw one of them aim at him with his gun, but he was not shot at.

Could it be that other survivors like him were indifferent to his plight, might be even more dangerous than the ferals?

He disliked that idea. He needed to find a car, something; he was forty miles from his destination. He knew people there; he would certainly find someone to help him, if not his mother.

He trudged on for another hour stopping when he saw an abandoned car, and started looking for the keys, without success.

Finally, he saw a Dodge Challenger, door open, with a body close by, certainly the driver. He rushed to it and after only a brief hesitation started searching the man's pockets.

As his hands were closing on the keys, a shadow fell over him.

"Good choice of wheels, kid. Can we ride along?"

Sasha turned around, his hand on his gun handle.

"No need for that, we mean you no harm, believe me."

Not for a moment but I have no choice. Their rifles were pointed at his chest. He let go of the gun grip and raised his hands in surrender.

"What's a cute kid like you doing alone around here? Don't you know it's dangerous?"

"Of course I know. I'm going home."

"And where is that?" There were two of them, teens, one perhaps fifteen and one around eighteen, who were doing the talking. They had lowered their rifles and did not appear too dangerous.

"About forty miles from here."

"And how did you get here?"

"That's a long story."

"But I love long stories."

"Could I simply take the car and go, if you don't mind?" He had to try that.

"What's waiting for you at home?"

"My mom." As soon as he had said that, he knew it sounded childish and absurd.

"Are you sure?" The teen first tried not to laugh then became suspicious.

They don't believe me, I don't myself. They think I want to trick them.

"Well that's my plan. I don't know where else that I could go. At least I know people there."

"Roads are dangerous, even in a car. People shoot at you for no reason, there are roadblocks, even the ferals will try to ambush you, they've learned a lot since the beginning. Where were you again?"

Sasha had nothing to hide.

"I was at Crestview with my grandparents, they died. Well my grandmother at least, I think. My grandpa, he attacked me but I… well, I escaped him. Then I waited for my mom to come back to take me away, she was on a trip, but she didn't. Then there was no food left and when I went outside, I realized I was trapped, there were ferals all over. So I found some food and waited some more. Finally, I decided I had to get out of there and I did. It was not easy.

"What a speech kid, you seem like a tough one. You know there's no one waiting for you at home. You understand that, don't you? Why don't you join us? You don't want to stay alone."

The other teen from his expression did not expect that and did not seem too happy.

"I don't know, what are your plans?"

"Survive first, then score with a few more girls. We did four already and they loved it, the little darlings, believe me. Didn't they Nate?"

"Yeah, sure they did. Less than us though," he finished with a smile.

Sasha wasn't too sure what they meant by that but he was sure he did not want to be alone anymore.

"Okay, I'll go with you. But I know nothing about girls."

"No problem, you've got time to learn. Name's, Harold, by the way."

"I'm Sasha Bronsky."

"Nice to meet you, Sasha. This is Nate, my cousin."

"Do we take the car now?"

"Why not Sasha. We ran out of gas with the previous one. It's getting late. Let's find a house to hole up for the night. Hop in the back, kid"

As Sasha took his place, he heard Nate say in hushed tones, "Why did you do that, we don't need excess baggage."

"Don't worry, dude, that kind of excess baggage can be very useful in certain circumstances, he is a tough little kid, he won't bother us."

Harold started the car and they were off.

***

Miles had been working at his office. Looking at the files he had not shared with Carl. Taking notes, searching for the best fall back place, at a reasonable distance from the school and far enough from the hot spots of possible chemical or nuclear waste, he also wanted to avoid large towns in the vicinity since it meant more ferals. He wanted to be ready if the situation turned bad at Saint Xavier. He was more confident than he had been a few days ago. Carl really needed him. For himself, he had the strong backup of Louise and Abrams and he had been able to secure the support of a reasonable number of boys in Bear House, not enough yet to make a difference but certainly enough to defuse any wish for a confrontation from the adverse party. Then there was the promise of an almost endless supply of pretty, willing boys that the truce provided. If a modus vivendi could be obtained with Carl, life at Saint Xavier could become a dream come true for the boylover that he was. Louise doubted it though. She thought that sooner or later, probably sooner, things would go sour and that Carl would try to impose rules that were unacceptable for the two of them. The times of democracy and peace were over for sure. But Fisher's plans for the future of Saint Xavier certainly went far beyond that. A clash was unavoidable. Deep down he knew it was true, but his appreciation was tainted by the advantages of fulfilling desires that had been denied to him for so many years. He had been an intelligence officer for some time and had made more difficult compromises before, with chieftains or warlords in different countries. He had to get back that same spirit, Carl was a worthy opponent, but his own ability wasn't lacking either, even without the might of the American army to back him up. He had to find more tools to tip the scales in their favor.

He had prepared another set of notes for Anthony. The boy would take them to Carl to reinforce his position as his official spy. A few accurate facts and places had been mixed with the fake ones, ones that could be checked easily, it would give credit to the other ones. Disinformation was a potent weapon he had learned during his service.

He checked his watch, 6:10 pm, Alex still had not shown up. He had been expecting the boy for over an hour now. He had wanted some relief before the barbecue and Alex was perfect for that. He would have to find him or some other available boy during the evening. He was going through phases. At some times, content with Sven and Anthony, at others, the subject of a strong craving for sex, seeking as many partners as possible and making use of the club boys availability. A club that was growing in numbers as Carl's influence and companion system gained in popularity. Many of the boys were bored, not knowing how to fill their many hours of free time. They needed to rediscover how to live without their smartphones, TV, computers, and many other electronic devices, live also without the outside world, their families and friends, girls. Many were at a loss. A few privileged ones had access to Fisher's game room, the use of the generators to recharge their device batteries, but they were few, a clever ploy from the man to use it as a reward.

The companion idea had sparked more interest from the older students whose raging hormones were ready to accept any outlet. Combined with the now open behavior of some of the remaining adults, himself included, and the club members, it had legitimized the behavior of those who had followed their example even if many had done it more out of necessity than taste. It was a nice way to spend their time, meet their needs, conform to the new trend, and be on the new ruler's side.

When he went out onto the porch, Miles relished in the sun and the slight breeze that made the heat almost agreeable. He heard the many voices on the other side of the administration building, close to the dining hall where the barbecue was to take place. He had a look around the area checking that the guards were at their post watching the entrance and the surroundings. Fifteen boys had been randomly chosen for that task to be replaced later in the evening by another fifteen, so that everyone could enjoy the party.

Miles was in his horny mood, slightly angry with Alex. He was the man's perfect match for sex. Anthony and a few others were a close second. With Sven, it was different, more a question of emotions. As his relation with Sven had deepened, he now felt that they made love rather than had sex. It was as fulfilling if not more so, but lacking that raw sexual dimension Miles was also seeking. Sven loved the physical contact but was still holding back somewhat, he wanted to please but it was at a cost. Anal sex had been put aside; he knew it was painful or at least uncomfortable for the boy. Miles had other regular partners for that now, besides Anthony. Notably, he was quite taken by the young Alex and was quite at ease with him. He was not as settled with Alex, as he could be with Anthony, who seemed to know all there was to know about sex and was always ready to try it, nor was he as cautious and considerate as with Sven where sentiments took precedence over their physical relation. With Alex he had found the perfect partner, one that knows enough and likes it enough to make him at ease but also one he can be rough with, take possession of.

With Alex, it was a mix of abandonment and denial that resonated well with Miles' old appeal for hard aggressive sex. He was quite vocal during intercourse, his moans expressing alternatively pain and pleasure, which greatly enhanced the man's excitement and performance. Thinking of him rekindled Miles desires and he felt his cock stir in his slacks.

He had to find him, if not him, then some other boy. He reentered the building and started at a brisk pace towards the dining hall. Imminent death was a very real menace, even if the hope of escaping the flu was gaining ground with each passing day and the diminishing number of new victims. That is how he rationalized his bouts of irrepressible desire, which took him without warning. Fortunately, a willing and available boy was always at hand to satisfy his needs.

***

Greg had been relieving some of his pent up rage, buggering young Alex, he had been at it for the last fifteen minutes. The boy liked it rough, which was a perfect fit for Greg's mood. They were in a rather exposed spot and the prefect had his hand clamped over the pretty boy's mouth to avoid his usual rather loud moans. He was almost there, the boy was squirming under him, perhaps trying to speak, probably finding this treatment a bit over the top even for him, but Greg was back to his old self and didn't care, and in fact, the boy's supposed reaction urged him to be more brutal and relentless.

"Don't fret like that, Alexander, you know you like it that way." He had often used the boy for that reason some months before but he got bored fast and was always searching for some novelty. "Didn't recall you were that good. Calm down, I'm almost done." Indeed, he did climax in the next few seconds, pulling back and spraying the boy's face with his seed.

"You did well. I think I might ask for seconds later in the evening. Stay close. Now I have some business to attend to." He patted the boy's rump and then left him alone, to get rid of the spunk and put his shorts back on. He felt noticeably better.

He had met the boy earlier who was on his way to meet with Dunn. Greg had immediately reacted, ordering him to stay with him and help him in his different tasks–Let the man wait and get frustrated: that piece of ass would be denied to him this evening. It pleased him to spoil the man's enjoyment even in a small measure.

Meat was being distributed and there was a line forming in front of the soft drinks table. Word was spreading that those drinks were not that soft and a lot of kids were going for second and sometimes third helpings. Tools was in charge of the beer. Two of the club prefects were supervising the proceedings, checking that everything was as much under control as possible.

Carl was seated at a table a bit apart from the others with Shirley and two boys, little Enrico and Cole the swimmer. Sean soon joined them with a large plate filled with meat and corn. They were drinking water only for the moment it seemed. Greg started walking toward their table picking up a beer on his way.

"I think it is coming along nicely. The drinks will soon have their effect, we just have to wait."

"I hope the dose of vodka was right, we don't want them all drunk in the next hour, just relaxed and open for anything," said Carl.

"I'm sure it will be a success," said Shirley. "The light is dimming, night will soon be here, it will be comfortably warm, and feel secluded enough to let a number of boys forget their inhibitions. With a little help, it should unfold as we wish. This is all very arousing. Cole, darling, come sit on my lap, Carl lent you to me; you're mine for the night. Are you happy?"

Cole did not answer but obeyed unquestioningly.

It was close to eight pm now. Boys were everywhere talking, laughing, running, wrestling, jumping, joking, arguing, quarreling, betting, getting in line for food and drinks, seated at tables, on the lawn all around the statue of Saint Xavier, a very unruly bunch with a lot of flesh showing. Most of them simply wearing gym shorts, a few still with tee shirts or caps. School uniforms were a thing of the past.

***

Miles, still horny, had not found his quarry yet. It seemed Alex was nowhere in sight. There were a few other alternatives around but not as appealing at the moment. Young Ochii could have been a good choice but was unavailable, enjoying his meal with a few buddies. Miles decided that a beer was in order first. They had been kept fresh in a bucket of ice, a true luxury in these times. He opened one, saluting Tools, and then started walking around the crowded area. Three hundred boys made for a lot of noise and movement. Away from the main crowd, he found the small group of refugee kids chaperoned by Walt and a few of the "warriors." Despite the efforts deployed, they had not been well integrated yet and still felt like visitors in a foreign country. The three Conner boys and the four kids from town were quietly sitting on the lawn watching the activity all around. The two Higson boys were probably with their Saint Xavier friends for once, which was a good thing. He hoped that it showed that the integration of the other refugees was within reach, with some good will.

"You should go get something to eat and drink kids, while it lasts, Walt, Bob, Mathew, why don't you escort them there. Bring back as much as you feel like. You should all feel at home here."

"We know," replied Chad. "But it seems only Bear House has welcomed us, for now."

"Give them some time. It will change when they get to know you. Tell them it's your meat they are eating, that could help. Ah, here we have the only young lady in the school. Lisa, is that it? "

"Yes, Mister Dunn."

"Do they treat you well, all these boys?"

"Okay," she said, with reddened cheeks.

"If there is any problem, you must come to me, boys and girl. I am here to solve any problems you might have. You know where to find me. And you can count on Walt too and Louise. But once again, I am sure that you will soon feel at home here. I'll do all I can for it to be so."

"We will too," added Walt, with one arm around Chad's shoulders. "Come on, I'm hungry." He stood up and they all silently followed, making their way cautiously across the school grounds.

Miles had finished his first beer and felt ready for a second. He saw Sven, William, and Logan playing with Ginger close to the fires. He could ask the boy for a tender romp but was afraid in his state to fall back to his old habits and not treat the boy as he should. Where was Anthony? He had not seen him yet. He was hard and hoped it didn't show too much. He was among the rare persons to wear pants that evening. He was surrounded by and walking among so many tempting boys, all, appealing to him in his condition and in different stages of undress. His eyes were traveling from one to the other, evaluating, appreciating, and restraining himself from touching, groping, squeezing, caressing, and kissing.

He got to the stand and took a second beer, hoping it would take his thoughts away from sex, but in fact knowing it would probably achieve quite the opposite. He felt this evening was spectacular, there was electricity in the air, and as the shadows lengthened, the ambiance of the party started shifting.

He had finished his third beer and had started a fourth, his need for a boy higher than ever, he was far from drunk but was starting to feel some of the effect. Around him, a definite change of mood had taken place. The boys' moves, voices, were different, more hesitant, less distinct, disorganized, the noise level had lowered noticeably; night had fallen. It was a clear night with an almost full moon and due to the few lights on the ground a beautiful sight of the Milky Way above them.

Many boys were now seated or simply lying down on the lawn, almost no more running, jumping. They were talking in hushed tones, close together. Sometimes there was a burst of animation all the more remarkable because of the overall quiet. He saw a few shorts being pulled down and one boy pushed to the ground by one or two others amid giggles. He had to be hallucinating, it was happening all around him, older boys chasing younger ones, groping, kissing them. It was night but there was enough light to discern what was going on when you looked for it. He had to go see Louise. Should they do something about it?

That's when it happened. A running boy collided with him and they fell down, soon joined by two others. They were young kids, twelve or thirteen, a jumble of arms, legs, torsos, smooth skin, soft hair. They were laughing, pressing their slender bodies against him and each other.

Soon, instinctively, instead of trying to disentangle himself, Miles had his hands exploring the young offered forms; they slipped under a pair of shorts and found a well-formed butt and hard cocklet. There was no protest. As he was playing with one, the other was offering his mouth and the third taking out the man's rigid cock. He thought it was Sean. It must be a dream, this can't be happening, thought Miles, before succumbing to his delightful fate, feeling a tongue playing with his glans.

***

Carl Fisher was ecstatic. It was unfolding better than planned and he thought that it was time for him to get some reward. Greg estimated that by now at least one third of the boys had engaged in some kind of sexual activity and hoped that it would shortly be more than half.

"Bring the boys," he told the prefect.

Five boys had been selected to be the new headmaster's catamites for the night picked from the younger companion volunteers. They had been told it would be an honor to be initiated that way and it would open for them a vast array of privileges. A few others had declined the offer–and whether those five had accepted, out of interest or fear–that was open to debate.

"I'll keep only two this night, Greg. I am not Superman. You can have one and distribute the rest as you see fit. Have your fun but treat them well. We will soon have others whose sole purpose is to serve. But that is for later. Those are Saint Xavier boys."

The five boys had been well chosen and were very attractive. Carl enjoyed inspecting them as much as the prospect of being entertained by them later. He took his time, having them turn around, bend over, getting a feel of their assets like cattle in a market while still trying to allow them some consideration in accordance with what he had just said to Greg. His gratifying experience with Cole made the choice for him. He picked the two that looked the more reticent and uneasy throughout the process. He was quite sure he would have the opportunity to enjoy the others too at a later time anyway.

"Enrico, give them some room." The boy clearly didn't approve of the competition and didn't want to leave Carl's side. "Don't you worry, it's just for tonight," then he addressed one of his chosen ones, "Paul, come sit on my knees and tell me a bit about yourself…"

***

With the coming of darkness, they had moved closer to each other and to the little group of Bear boys who had been showing them some sympathy. There was Frank, twelve, and a heavyset dark haired boy, Lisa, ten, Eric, her brother, eleven, both with dark brown hair; though not the oldest or strongest of the group, and still slightly impaired by the knife wound, quick witted, he was the one they turned to for leadership, finally Isaac, eight, a copper haired imp. Then there were the Conner boys better integrated and with the advantage of budding friendships. Chad and Walt were often seen together lately. Mikey, with Louis in tow, had gotten close to Johnny; he also had a strong sense of humor only appreciated by those it was not directed at. Mathew and Bob, inseparable, were there too. All of them had felt the change of atmosphere around them in the last hour or so. They had eaten the meat and had their share of soda or juice that tasted a bit strange and had quite a relaxing effect.

Walt had identified the nature of the taste but said nothing. Chad was by his side, his head on his shoulder. He had slipped one hand under his tee shirt, caressing his taut belly and making incursions higher. He planned on going lower very soon and see if the boy would let him. Then he would excuse himself and take him to a more private spot. He knew that scenario was being played out by many others this evening; he had seen and heard the innuendos.

Bob too had seen the signs. He still had to resolve his dilemma but since the fiasco of his last experience, he was being extremely cautious. He had seen the little game Walt was playing with Chad and was a bit envious of the boy. Walt could make a very reliable companion; it was one option Bob had thought of. But his mind was still in turmoil about that question. He still didn't know exactly what he wanted and, or rather how, to get it. He wanted relief. His hand had been very active lately but it was not enough. He hated that, hated not being in control, being betrayed by those feelings, emotions. He had to make a move. That was the only way to know, the only way to make it stop. Mathew was oblivious to it all. He had sent many hints these last days but none had brought a response. He probably wasn't interested or had his mind on other topics. There was no lack of them.

Mathew was the first one who saw Ke approaching them. He was carrying a bag and coming straight for them. They had not talked to or even seen him close in days now. He signaled Bob and Johnny and soon Walt was also aware of their visitor.

"I Guys, I'm sorry, I come to make peace," declared the boy to his former roommates in a constrained way.

"We were never at war, Ke. We understand that you went through very difficult times. You can come back whenever you want," said Walt with an illuminating smile.

"Really, you're not angry with me? Letting you down like that."

"I can only talk for myself but I hold no grudge against you, not at all. What about you guys?"

They all agreed; it was as if nothing had happened. They were happy to have their friend back.

"I knew I could count on you! You're the best!" said a beaming Ke. "I brought a few things to celebrate."

"Settle down with us and show us what you brought," said a curious Johnny.

"Sure but… I don't think I've got enough for everybody here. Could it be just us, like before? Bob also of course, perhaps one more," he added, looking at Walt and Chad.

Johnny, always the enthusiast stood up right away. "Sure, let's go see what you have!" he added, not to look selfish. "Wait for us, we won't be long."

Walt was more hesitant but did not want to risk losing Ke again. The vodka was taking its toll too, for all of them. Ideas were not that clear. "Okay we will follow you. Sorry Eric, Chase, don't worry, we will be back later. We can't refuse an old friend."

"Sure, go ahead. We will wait for you," Eric replied with more confidence than he felt.

Ke lead his three roommates, Bob and Chad, across the school grounds to the bleachers where he settled down. He had brought a battery lamp that gave some light.

"I got Baileys, and cigarettes."

"Baileys, what is that?" asked Johnny, a bit disappointed.

"I could do with a smoke," said Chad

"Sure take one," said Ke, happy to oblige. "Baileys Irish Cream, you'll see, it's good. It's sweet but you'll soon feel the same as if it were whiskey. I don't like whiskey, but I love Baileys."

"You got a light?" It was Chad again, eager for his first whiff of tobacco. "You haven't anything stronger? You know?"

"I hoped you would ask. Yes, I got that too. But we will have to share, got just two."

"Bring it out, then. What are you waiting for?"

Walt was discovering a new Chad. One who seemed quite savvy of things well beyond his years. The good boy he was didn't know if he was pleased.

Johnny, Mathew, and Bob were curious and bewildered, but helped by the ingested vodka earlier, ready for everything.

***

Omar Seku was seeing his plan for the evening unfold as expected and was gaining more confidence. He had avoided drinking too much; he would celebrate later when the deed was done. He wanted the girl; He had never had one so young, even back in his country where money could buy most anything. He had recruited a few boys for the occasion, all a bit tipsy now. They wanted to give a lesson to those refugee kids and have a go with the girl too. Fortunately, not everyone was into boys in this school. His stroke of genius was getting the help of Ke, after asking Greg, of course, you did not mess with him. Everyone knew that.

The plan was simple. Ke was to take away the Bear boys by pretending he wanted to make peace with them. While they were away, they would send Grayson who could look quite amiable and would tell the remaining kids that they would be better accepted in the school if they went through an initiation ceremony. Everything was ready, they just had to show up, and they would not be harmed.

He would take them to the shop, away from the crowd and any help. And they would be initiated, but certainly not the way they expected. Omar thought it was brilliant and it was very likely to work. Phase one was accomplished. Phase two had started.

Grayson Driscoll had a bad reputation and he deserved it. But those refugee kids did not know of it. He was also a good liar and had his way with words. He saw right away that the little refugees were miserable and quite a contrast to the kids all around them. They were also on their guard. The days they had spent alone, escaping the ferals and other menaces had left its mark. He saw also that their deepest desire at that moment was to belong. That promise, would be offered to them on a platter. He was sure to succeed.

And indeed, five minutes later they were at the entrance to the shop. The wounded boy had tried to delay, to get more information on what they would have to do, he wanted to wait for Walt, go get his advice. But he did not know where to look. The temptation was too great. What could happen? Probably some hazing was to be expected. But it was worth it. In fact, his judgment was slightly altered; he had drunk too much, like most of the kids. Despite their strange taste, those refreshing iced juices and sodas had been a marvel.

Grayson lit a lamp and they disappeared into the building.

***

After the preliminaries, all around the tables and on the school grounds, with the help of alcohol and drugs mingled with the soft drinks, things were getting more serious and degenerating into something not very different from a Roman orgy.

Carl was presiding over it all. He had Paul still on one knee, his shorts and underwear on his ankles, tee shirt thrown away, while Enrico was teaching the other boy, Luke, how to perform a blowjob. Carl enjoyed the view and sensations while exploring and playing with the boy's delicate and smooth body. Not far away Greg was fully embedded in the boy he had chosen, the kid bent over a table was being thoroughly buggered. Shirley had left a few minutes earlier with Cole, she wanted to try out some ideas with the boy, she said. Tools had left too with one of the selected boys preferring some privacy. Carl would do the same later. He knew it was all going too far, further than he had planned. He still accepted–welcomed– it all. He had seen some of the students leave and go back to their houses, troubled, afraid, dismayed, but they were few. Most had stayed and joined more or less in the pagan festivities taking place.

***

Miles had succumbed to his lust and urges. One of the three boys that had tumbled to the ground with him had soon left; probably not ready to go further than some groping and kissing but the other two had stayed. It was not surprising for Sean who had all the experience required, but the red-haired freckled one was clearly a novice and showed as much enthusiasm. Shorts and pants were soon discarded, using spit as the only available lube, Miles had pursued his main goal and entered the well-experienced boy's ass without much difficulty, starting a vigorous back and forth movement, relishing in the young hole's tightness. He was keeping the second boy close by with the intention of soon renewing the experience in his probably virgin butt. No words were exchanged, none were needed. All of it was driven by a deep-seated thirst for sex. Reason had no place; primal instincts reigned, freed by a sufficient dose of alcohol.

For Miles, all the pent up energy of the previous hours was being channeled into that one purpose. He was rock hard, more so than ever before, at least that's what he was thinking at that moment. He disengaged his cock from Sean and raised the redhead's legs over his shoulders exposing the virgin puckered entrance and without further ado or warning pushed forward. He entered effortlessly but it was painful for the boy, who was taken by surprise. He was pinned under the man's weight, who, relentlessly, forgetting all his resolves, was forging ahead.

"Please stop," the boy finally said.

Miles had a moment of hesitation but finally pulled back. There were one or two tense minutes where boy and man looked at each other. Then the redhead smiled and laughed getting out of reach of Miles.

"You can't catch me!" he said.

"Me neither," added Sean, moving backward.

"You bet I can!" replied Miles, raising himself, oblivious of his nakedness in the near darkness that enveloped them.

***

Sven, William, and Logan had stayed with Louise after they got back from their showers, overseeing the distribution of the meat, by the way, getting as much as they wanted for themselves and Ginger. It was succulent, quite a change from the usual fare lately at the dining hall. Then there were the drinks, iced sodas, and juices for the younger kids and even beer for the prefects; those refreshments were very welcome after the heat of the fires, and even after a cold shower. They had a strange after taste but that didn't really matter. After a few of them, the boys started to get dizzy, even Logan, the talker, had his speech slowing, with some difficulty to articulate, his words becoming slurred.

Louise noticed it and came to investigate. She had drunk only water until then. As soon as she took her first sip, she knew the nature of the problem and looking around suspected the reason for it and who was responsible. She understood too that it was too late to react and change anything about it. The party had been on for over an hour now, night had fallen. In the dusk, she could guess the effects it had on the boys gathered all around. She had seen Miles a few minutes before, walking around with a beer, seemingly looking for someone. She could try to find him, but to what purpose?

"Kids, stop drinking that. Drink only water from now on."

"Wwillll Dwo," answered Logan, "Donnn't lik thhat feeeliing anyway."

"Go warn Walt and the others, if it's not too late."

"Yesss my laddy." The poor boy had been very thirsty. The other two were in better shape.

"Come on Logan, walking will do you good. Let's go find the others," said William with the approbation of Sven. Even Ginger seemed worried by the younger boy's condition, turning around him, making large moves with her tail, ears pushed backwards. "Don't fret Ginger, he'll get better soon."

The dog, from the first day, had bonded with Logan and they were now inseparable like Matthew and Bob, perhaps even more so, like only a boy and dog can be.

Sven thought it would be easy to find their friends but in the darkness everybody looked like everybody else, one group very much like any other. Only a few lamps had been lit here and there.

And then they saw what was going on in the shadows, entwined bodies, two, three, sometimes even more, some calling to them, often with an altered voice.

"Come join us. You're sure to like it. Come on pretty boys."

They did not linger and at one time had to hold on to Logan who was ready to answer the call. After his own involvement with Miles and Anthony, Sven should not have been disturbed, but he was, it was all without meaning, it had been staged. Probably many of those boys in the morning would regret what they had done that night. Or perhaps he was the one that was wrong, who felt superior because he had Dunn, perhaps they just had a good time, nothing more, and after all it wasn't that important. There was no shame to it.

Then Sven witnessed, more clearly than he would have liked, Miles running after two boys, naked from the waist down. Catching up to them and bringing them down with him, in the same movement, aligning himself and entering one with a grunt. All that under the sight of two other boys, surprised but themselves naked, entwined, and active.

He turned away from the scene, not wanting to see more, pulling Logan with him, and followed by a rattled William. They walked in silence without real purpose.

As they approached the shop entrance, William said, "Isn't that Mikey and Louis?"

Sven pulled from his somber musings, focused on the scene unfolding. It was indeed the Conner boys and others accompanied by Grayson Driscoll who were entering the building.

"What do you think they're doing?"

"I don't know, but I don't like it." As soon as he had pronounced those words, two boys emerged from the shadows, Omar Seku and Harvey Van Huys, a well-known bully whose thick dark eyebrows had terrified quite a few students already.

"I don't like it at all," repeated Sven, pulling out of sight his two mates. "They're going in too."

Omar gave a look around before closing the door, not noticing the three boys watching them.

"It looks bad to me," insisted Sven.

"What do we do?" said William.

"Let's go in and see what's going on," declared Logan, who no longer sounded quite so drunk.

"Better to get Miss Simons first. We don't know how many of them are in there." Sven did not mention Dunn's name. He seemed a lost cause at the moment.

"We got Ginger," interjected Logan.

"True, but as Mister Dunn says, 'better safe than sorry.' I'll go fetch her, Walt and the others too, if I can," said William.

"Perhaps they are in there too, they were supposed to stay together?"

"Unlikely to me," added William." They would never have gone with Greyson."

"Okay we will wait for you here."

***

Inside the shop, the refugee kids had immediately understood they had fallen into a trap. They had been led by Grayson to the second floor in a kind of meeting room and rather large. Five boys were there waiting for them and as soon they had entered three more arrived from behind, blocking the exit, soon joined by two more, notably the black prefect Omar. They were all older kids, taller, and stronger. The room was better lit than usual by three battery lamps, The chairs had been pushed to the sides, a few mattresses had been piled in the middle.

"Well, boys and girl, welcome to the shop. Strip now; let us see the merchandise," announced the leader, Omar.

"You know we all want the girl, Omar, but you're right, we can have some fun with the boys first, till you're done with her," said Harvey.

"There's not enough for all of us," added Grayson.

"You'll have to take turns, then. I plan on enjoying her for a bit."

The six refugee kids had grouped themselves together in the center of the room and showed no intention of obeying Omar. They were outnumbered and no match for their aggressors. The words exchanged gave them no doubt on their foes intent and the fate that awaited them. Mikey and Eric were sure they would not go down without a fight, but they could only hope to delay the outcome. Eric looked at the windows, looking for a way out, but found no solution there, besides it was too far to the ground.

"Kids, I told you to strip. Don't make me angry."

"No way," replied Eric taking the leadership. Isaac, afraid, had started crying.

"Those two are really puny, are you sure they can be of use?" asked Grayson pointing to Louis and Isaac.

"Don't worry they'll serve alright. I can show you if you want," said Harvey.

"I came for the girl," said another.

"Then you'll have to wait your turn, until Omar is done. We'll play with the others," insisted Harvey. "Boy or girl, they all have holes we can fill. And I'm quite horny. What are we waiting for?"

"You're right, let us start," said Omar. "I'll get the girl, Stan and Pietr, you get the two youngest. Harvey, Greyson, you take care of the leader; Augusto, Felipe, the blond one; Mark, Wilson, the stocky one. Let's strip them and see some flesh." With Omar, there were some of Shirley's brigade and some recent promising recruits.

All on cue, they jumped on the kids who were subdued quite easily and undressed mercilessly, their tormentors laughing, playing with them, or for some, taking pleasure in hurting them on purpose. Bonds had been prepared and the three boys that could hope to put up a fight were now restrained, ready for use. It was definitely hopeless.

Eric was still fighting and shouting, though desperate to defend his sister.

"Harvey, do something, silence him. He is ruining our fun," ordered Omar.

"LET THEM GO!"

Everybody turned at the sound of the young voice.

"Two more unexpected guests; and very pleasant looking too; too bad I'm not really interested. What do you think you're doing Sven?" Omar, with a large smile was seated with a naked Lisa on one of the mattresses. He did not even think it necessary to stop fondling the poor crying girl. "Get them, guys. More fun for you."

"Omar, Miss Simons will be here in two minutes and if you don't let them go now, we will have Ginger take care of you."

The usually friendly dog had changed drastically, baring his fangs and growling. All of them, at first, undaunted thugs, took a step back and Omar got on his feet right away. None of them had thought of bringing a weapon.

"Let me tell you this, Omar. If you let them go now we will just say it was a prank gone sour. And it will go no further. If not, all the school will know what you intended to do and first of all Miss Simons and Mister Dunn. Even Fisher will not be able to support or help you and your friends. What will be left of you, that is. Ginger is a guard dog trained to maim and kill. If she attacks, nothing will save you. She is capable of dealing with all of you…. What do you say?" It was all bluff but the boy was putting enough conviction in his voice to make it ring true.

Just at that moment, William joined them out of breath and rapidly assessed the situation saying, "Miss Simons is right on my heels. She just went to get Mister Dunn too."

"You don't have much time now Omar. What is your decision?" Sven's voice was steady and uncompromising. He knew the cavalry was not coming; William had given him a clear message. It was the three of them and Ginger.

Omar was wrong, Harvey had not come empty handed and calmly took a switchblade from his back pocket.

"What you say is bullshit, no one is coming, and I think I can handle that dog."

As soon as the knife came into view, Ginger tried to leap at Harvey's hand. Luckily for him, Logan had gotten to his knees and was holding her back, his arms around her neck. She had strong jaws, capable of seriously harming the boy's hand.

Then it was William's turn to surprise everyone by pulling a gun hidden in his back. His hand was not too steady but the aim was good. Sven was as surprised as everybody else, he stated.

"Your choice Omar, the clock is ticking."

***

Shirley had taken Cole to the infirmary. She now spent a lot of her free time there, alone and more often with a boy from her brigade. She was slightly drunk. While Carl had stayed sober, she had sampled a bit of everything that was available.

She had conflicting thoughts about Cole. She wished to enjoy his well-fit body, play with him… his emotions. But she also had darker desires. She wanted to test herself. Until now, those she had killed were diseased, doomed. All she had done was hasten the inevitable. Would killing, snuffing a boy like Cole feel the same? Would she be up to it? Toying with the idea excited her. How would she do it? What were her options? Should she do it alone or with one of her boys? Several of them? That could be a bonding experience. She could think of two or three that she thought would be up to the task.

Cole was certainly not his old self; he was docile, almost apathetic. It was as if he was not really there. She had taken off his sneakers and shorts, and was playing with his cock trying to elicit a response.

"Come on Cole, if you don't do better than that you won't be worth my time. Not so long ago you seemed to like me a lot."

"It's not working," said the boy. "Not anymore."

"That's too bad. We will have to find other uses for you. Or perhaps we could try to revive you some. I certainly got what's required. Viagra, no, ecstasy, perhaps, cocaine, that could work, we could even try several. That could be fun. But first you'll use your mouth; I really need some release before going further."

She lay down and exposed her crotch.

"Get on top of me, boy, head to tail. Put your mouth and tongue to work while I enjoy the rest of you. Such a wonderful body, all mine. I might miss you a lot…for sure."

***

At the mansion, Zeus' den, as it was called by some, it had been a quiet evening, more quiet than usual. Ivor and Max had been discussing their options for the hundredth time while the boys had fun in the game room. Ivor had difficulty concentrating. All he wanted was to go join the boys and lose himself in carnal pleasures. He had also drunk too much; it had become a bad habit these last few weeks.

Max was miserable, he hated to see the man he loved and admired disintegrate and lose control in front of his eyes. He owed him everything he had, his position, his education, perhaps even his life. Who would have bought him in Ukraine if it had not been Ivor? For what purpose? What would have been his future if he had stayed in the orphanage?

Their relation was not only based on reason, it was also, mainly, emotional. A strong bond had been forged, unconditional love on Max's part that had lasted to this day even if he could not express it physically anymore.

"All our contacts in Washington and Atlanta are dead. They have been for days; there will be no vaccine, no safe place to welcome us now. Saint Xavier is our best bet, and with some luck your friend Fisher will still be there, or at least one of the club members. And think of all the boys there. How good it would feel to be surrounded by so many! It would take us only twenty minutes to get there safely with the X4."

"Yes, perhaps, but if I go there, they will have no way to find me, get the vaccine to me. I've got enough boys here. If necessary, you could bring me more. We have food, all the comfort we can wish for."

"We have the sat phone. They have your number. Anyway, I already told you that vaccine story was bullshit. How desperate were you to believe what those con guys told you! How much did you pay for it? One million? Wasted money! And what is that money worth now? Nothing."

Ivor was silent, looking at the floor.

"When the generators stop working, life here will get much more complicated and unpleasant. We had several alerts. Some people, perhaps ferals have tried to break in. The electrified fence stopped them for now. There's still a lot of people out there. I've seen several places looted or burned in the vicinity. The world we knew will not come back. Believe me, I've been out there."

"Sadly I think you may be right. Still we don't know what we will find there. I had no news from Carl since we lost the phones."

"If it doesn't work out we can always come back here. It is not far, we have enough fuel with a very good safety margin. Or we could try the joint base in Charleston. The military was still active there two weeks ago."

"How long till we lose electricity?"

"I thought we would be out of it by now. We could reduce our energy consumption drastically, perhaps that would save us a few more days. We won't last much longer."

"No, leave it as it is. A few more days won't change the outcome anyway. Let's finish in style." Ivor had a smile, a rare thing except in the company of "his" boys, lately." It will be Saint Xavier then, I'll go tell the boys, they'll be delighted, they've heard of it so many times. We should be able to bring them all with us if we don't weigh the X4 too much. We will travel light."

Max smiled, happy to see his mentor get back some of his stamina.

"I'll see what can be done. The kids don't weigh that much."

"Do you want me to send you one for the night? Some sex would help you relax. You've been quite tense lately."

"With good reason, but no, you know I prefer more mature partners."

"I'm so sorry I can't provide that anymore."

"Don't be. Just being by your side is enough for me. I always knew where to go when I wanted the other thing. I'm afraid all those gay bars are closed now. I'll have to find something else."

"There are older boys at Saint Xavier; perhaps you'll find your match?"

"Let' hope so. I'll do my rounds now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"And I'll go see if our young guests are up for some action. Those Lorentz boys are a real delight, they adapted to our ways so easily and without any training from you, this time."

"They know you love them, that they can trust you. It makes it much easier. The other two showed them there was no reason to be afraid, it helped too. Then they had a peak at the outside world, they knew the alternative and were ready to do all that was entailed to stay here. I know I went through the same process."

"I don't like to be reminded of it. But you're right, like most people they want to survive, be safe. I'll forget all about that though and go enjoy their company. We will talk more in the morning."

***

Miles didn't know exactly how many boys had passed in his arms that night. Probably five or six, it had been so easy, and at least two clearly virgin ones. He had fucked a few, that elusive redhead included, that he had finally entered him without too much fuss and lots of saliva. He had been careful that time to go slow, step-by-step. Those boys had obviously been boozed up. He suspected the drinks had been laced with alcohol. He himself was high on beer but also from the simple exhilaration of being among naked boys doing things he would have never thought possible. It had been so for the last few weeks, true, but never at that level. He would have to check but already had a clear idea of who had put together that ploy. It certainly had worked. Many of the students had participated in what could certainly be called an orgy of sorts. When he had left the school grounds, he had seen many boys lying together two, three, sometimes more, most now sleeping but a few still active.

He felt elated but also slightly ashamed. What should he say to Sven? The boy knew and accepted that he had sex with other boys, but this was different. And Sven would have witnessed at least part of the scenes unfolding. The boys he had sex with, he didn't even know their names, didn't even really know what they looked like in the light of day, whether they were pretty, cute or plain. At least it had been consensual.

It was perhaps two a.m., he had not done his rounds, checked that the guards were at their post, that the relief teams had performed. He had some difficulty even finding his slacks and underwear, he had his radio but his gun was still missing. He would have to come back at first light for it. Yes, all of it was shameful. He would need a few days to recover from it and hoped his conduct would mostly go unnoticed since he had been one among many in the shadows. He decided to go back to Bear House, check on Sven and the others. His duties would be forgotten for that one night.

The house was quiet and the guard was at his post, which pleased him. Perhaps his efforts had paid and even without him, the security of the school could be achieved. He went to his room to find it empty. The bed had not been slept in, perhaps Sven, finding himself alone, had gone to sleep with William and the other boys. He took a few steps to the bed with the intention to call it a night, then changed his mind and went across the hallway to check on the boys. Their bedroom was mostly empty.

Where were they? Did they participate in the orgy and were still there? That seemed unlikely; most of them did not seem sexually active. He had heard some innuendos between Walt and Chad and there was Anthony, of course, but none of the others had showed a real interest. They could perhaps have been enticed under the influence of the drinks, but all of them?

He had to investigate.

***

Ke was very pleased with the way he had tricked them all. He had been careful not to indulge in the liquor or marijuana, letting the others take their fill. They were now in a state that would prevent any interference with Omar's plans. It was time for him to join the others at the shop and perhaps have some fun too, as a reward.

"Well, guys, it's been nice seeing you again. Enjoy, I got to go. Greg wanted me to send you his salutations. See you."

Walt and Bob were the only two that had kept their spirits and were not too far-gone.

"Why are you leaving?" said Walt, he had strained to avoid drinking and smoking too much. He wanted to stay in shape to catch any opportunity to go further with Chad.

"My job's done. Sorry Walt, we ain't even yet; still got a grudge against you all."

"What do you mean? What was that all about?"

"Wait and see." Ke had left the bleachers and turned his back on them.

Walt looked around. Matthew and Johnny were out, that Baileys stuff was deceitful; it was sweet but very strong. Chad had been very eager to try and peruse all that was offered and the first to succumb to that stupor. He was dead to the world, had been for a good fifteen minutes now, comfortably snuggled against the bigger boy, a gentle smile on his lips, perhaps dreaming.

Walt disentangled himself and tried to get up. He had to understand what was going on with Ke.

It did not work; he fell back right away, his head spinning.

"I tried that too. I got dizzy, almost ready to puke," said Bob," and I only took a few sips and two puffs. I think we will have to wait it out."

"Yes, seems so, but I don't like it. There's something going on. I'm sure of it." He was looking with longing at Chad, seeing his hopes evaporate, at least for this night.

"I agree but there's not much we can do about it right now." Bob had an unusual attitude, and his hand on his crotch.

"That's true. Perhaps we could finish that bottle then, it doesn't taste too bad."

"Not for me, thanks. I think there is something else we could do instead." He was fidgeting, clearly unsure of himself.

"Something else? What could that be?"

"You know… what you wanted to do, you know… with Chad?" He raised his gaze finally getting bolder.

"Sorry, I don't quite catch your meaning."

"Sex! I've been thinking of it, almost every minute for quite some time. Isn't that strange?"

Now that it was out in the open, Bob felt more at ease, at last. And with Walt, talking about it felt simple and natural, he was to be trusted, there was no place for fear or doubt suddenly. It was all clear; it was now or never. The substances he had ingested and inhaled and the darkness surrounding them were certainly strong catalysts too.

Walt was taken aback. He had never expected such a proposition would come from Bob and in such a direct way. Lighted by the moon and the dimming lamp he certainly looked adorable, his long, well-shaped naked legs and thighs were very white in this light–and very enticing.

Why not? Thought Walt.

They were both at a crossroad exploring new feelings and desires, not sure of what they really wanted or needed. Still knowing that what they lacked was finally within reach.

"Who makes the first move? I'm not sure I can walk."

Bob was only two rows away, a lightly snoring Matthew by his side.

"Let's try to get away from the others. Don't you think?"

"I doubt they will wake up. You're right it will be better that way. I'll try to slide to the next row, there." He was pointing at a more secluded area of the bleachers, away from anyone's sight.

He was feeling the first stirrings of his impressive cock that even in his inebriated state seemed to be responding. Had Bob seen its size? Would he be afraid when he saw it? That was one worry Walt had nurtured since he had considered a sexual intercourse with boys. Even some girls had been wary. Penetration was certainly out of the question for now.

Now with a purpose and the excitement that was taking control they moved more easily even if on wobbly legs. When they reached their destination, they were truly alone and facing each other. Somehow, both intimidated, they were looking at each other in an expectant way.

Walt made the first move. He had kissed Chad, and had intercourse with a few girls, so it could not be that different. He would try not to think of Sven. Bob was a beautiful boy; he was certainly well worth it. It would work fine. The unexpected outcome was even a great incentive and bolstered his desire for sex.

He sat down beside Bob, engulfing his much smaller frame in a tender embrace, bending himself to bring his lips into contact with the younger boy's own. The kiss was sweet with the lingering taste of the bailey's liqueur. Soon he got more bold pushing his tongue forward inside the child's mouth, exploring. He pulled Bob onto his lap, one hand slipping under his tee shirt the other cupping the tented crotch, not yet sure if he could pull his shorts down.

After a few moments of inaction, Bob responded, sending his tongue out to meet with Walt's, tightening his grip to bring them even closer and maximizing the contact of the two bodies, grinding them together.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, enjoying the contact, the tastes, the smells, the touch, letting their desire heighten.

Then, with an unspoken common agreement, they separated and started undressing each other, pulling off tee shirts, sneakers, shorts, and underwear. Their white skin glowing in the moonlight away from any artificial one, they exposed their flesh and explored each other's bodies.

Bob had a "Wow" escape his lips when he saw the older boy's member. It was so big, so long, so hard. Quite impressive but also beautiful, he reached with his hand to gently caress it, feeling it throbbing in response to his touch. Walt covered the boy's hand with his own, sliding them up and down along its curve while resuming their kiss, his other hand on the boy's back. Also going up and down, he played with the fuzz at the back of his neck and then followed his spine to go all the way down to the fleshy cheeks lingering in the crack that separated them, and then going up again.

Both boys felt their breath shorten. Bob's little tool, untouched until now, became fully erect and demanding. Walt answered its call, leaving his own to delicately take possession of it, rubbing, squeezing, stroking it; playing with the glans and its slit. He had a good idea of how to bring pleasure, having experienced it himself many times before–by himself. Even if slightly dulled by his intoxicated state, the sensations of giving pleasure, the softness of the younger boy's skin were fully satisfying. It was quite similar to his previous meetings with girls but at the same time very different.

He felt Bob's first dry cum through his fingers, the younger boy holding his breath for a short moment, followed by an ecstatic smile of contentment.

***

Bob had told himself that it would just be an experience. Something he had to do to know what it was like and stop being obsessed by it. But it had soon gone much further than that. He was hit by emotions, feelings, an awareness he had no idea existed. It was a revealing moment, a moment where he was finally able to let go, forget about control, give himself up; share that instant with Walt in total control. He was rewarded by the best orgasm he had ever been blessed with, so much better than what he could achieve with his own hand.

He wanted to reciprocate and give back as much as he received. He had seen in the barn how it was done and without hesitation broke the kiss, got on his knees and covered Walt's cock head with his mouth. He felt a strange salty substance coming out of the slit but it did not stop him putting his tongue to work. He was a determined boy and once started, rarely quit. After the tongue, it was his mouth he brought to use, while keeping his hands busy on the long shaft and taking in as much of it as he could, he tightened his lips around his friend's pole of pleasure creating a strong suction for the sensuous glans. He felt the much bigger boy above him shudder and then relax overwhelmed by a wave of wonderful sensations. As he carried on, a little smile formed at the corner of his mouth. He was doing good.

***

Walt knew he would not be able to hold it much longer anticipating the release while at the same time apprehensive of its coming; he wanted it to last forever. He was quite sure that in his present state he would be permitted only one go and it took him all his will to disengage his cock from the smaller boy's hungry mouth, leaving a trace of saliva and precum on the boy's chin.

"Let's delay it a bit more if you don't mind," he said to Bob's questioning look. I don't think I'll be able to shoot twice, not tonight. Let me enjoy you some more."

He brought the boy's slight frame to him again, letting his hands roam all over. Kneading the flesh of his thighs and buttocks then teasing his small chest nipples, tracing lines to his crotch where a still very erect cocklet awaited him.

He laid the boy on the bench and put the boy's legs on his shoulders exposing his perineum, cock, balls, and puckered anus. He again traced a line, with his tongue this time, from the cute orifice to the testicles that he played with for a bit, pulling them inside his mouth. It was all new to him; he was discovering a new map of possibilities and strange sensations, picking up new ways and methods of bringing and receiving pleasure. They were mostly tries with no failures, some more successful than others. Finally, he came to the young straight cock that he took whole in his mouth to exert an energetic blowjob and heard a gasp from his entranced partner. He became bolder, wetting a finger to play with the boy's hole. He had no hope of entering it yet but wanted to enhance the boy's pleasure. There was no resistance, no denial from the boy, the incredibly hot canal opened up easily, available for further exploration and stimulation. The result was spectacular, bringing the boy over the edge right away for the second time.

As soon as Bob had recovered, Walt heard:

"Will you put it in?"

"It's in already," answered Walt, moving his finger in and out with ease.

"No, you know…the real thing."

Walt stayed silent

"You know?" repeated Bob, almost pleading.

"It's too big, it would hurt you." He was tempted…

"It's long but not that thick. I've seen it. It should fit." He had indeed done his homework watching all those porn movies trying to find the best ones to show Matthew.

Walt had his head on the boy's taut belly, his chin on his belly button; they were looking at each other, eye to eye, expectant.

"No, it won't work, another time." Walt was saying the words but not thinking them, Bob knew it.

"I know you want it. I don't mind. Let's try it, please"

"I'll hurt you; I don't want to do that. We don't have lube." He was pulling away, afraid to be tempted.

"We'll never know if we don't try. Come on. I can tell you to stop anytime. Look"

Bob raised his well-shaped and very cute bottom, spreading his legs and holding them apart to expose himself in the most enticing way he could think of, helped by the pale light of a half full moon.

"Come on, I won't be able to stay that way too long."

"You little devil. How can I resist you?" surrendered Walt. "I never thought it would come to this. Can't say I'm not pleased. I must tell you I've never done that."

"Me neither, it looked rather easy in the barn."

"What barn? Let me try to get you ready. You must tell me if it hurts."

"Sure, I will. Don't worry."

"You should be the one to worry. Hope you're clean down there."

He had seen videos and heard about it so knew more or less what had to be done and after one last moment of hesitation set himself to work.

Putting his mouth to the hole's lips bringing forward as much saliva as he could he pushed his tongue in. He had feared the taste but it was not too bad and soon forgotten as his desire mounted. He would try, and with some luck, he would succeed. Soon he was putting one, then two and then three fingers in with lots of saliva to help. Bob with half-closed eyes was still very much erect. Walt knew there was a place that could bring much pleasure in there but wasn't sure he had found it. It was his first time; he was learning and doing rather well so far. He was afraid of the next step but he also wanted to feel that hotness and tightness around his cock and explode inside the boy's canal. That should be quite something.

Finally, he decided it was time. He got in position, spit some more saliva on his glans, and placed them against the orifice. He had pinned Bob under him, holding him in place with his left hand while the right one guided his shaft. They were looking at each other, eye to eye again. The younger boy's hands on the older boy's hips perhaps in an unpremeditated protective gesture.

"Here we go. You have to push, like when taking a crap. It'll go easier." That's one thing he had learned on the internet; the thing had its uses indeed; too bad it was dead now."

Then he concentrated on gradually augmenting the pressure until he felt something give and he moved forward. He was reading Bob's expression, searching for the first signs of pain. The boy looked tense, but so far, so good. Incredible! He was going in; the tightened grip of the ass lips passed over his glans then settled on his shaft. He was in, surrounded by the heat and velvet feel of the boy's passage. It felt strange and wonderful. He bent over, impaired by the difference in sizes and kissed the boy's brow.

"Does it hurt?" He was sure it did.

"No, it's okay. Don't move for a bit. Let me get used to it." Bob…always the brave and practical boy.

If he had asked for it, Walt would have hated to withdraw. He was now determined to put in as much of it as was possible.

After two minutes, Bob signaled Walt to resume the penetration. He knew he would never be able to put it all in. He needed just a few more inches then he would be able to start thrusting in and out 'till he came. The boy's canal pressure was enough to bring him close. It went on like that for a few minutes, the two lovers exchanging kisses, caresses, encouragements, and queries. Walt's craving for his relief becoming stronger with each move forward. Finally, after a last questioning glance at Bob, he set in motion the back and forth rush that was to bring him to fruition. He tried, as best as he could, to be careful, mixing long strokes with episodes of rapid motion, in a state where his pleasure mostly overcame his judgment. The alcohol and drugs ingested also having some effect.

It came at last. The release was powerful and lasted for a long time. He lost himself in it, concentrating on each and every sensation it brought, holding tight the fragile frame under him in an attempt to merge them both into one single entity.

***

That moment had a witness. Chad, a few minutes earlier, he had awoken with a slight headache and an urgent need to pee. He had looked around, discovering the sleeping shapes of Matthew and Johnny. After emptying his bladder he was feeling better, he wanted to see if there was still some drink or smoke left and his attention was drawn to strange noises and the two lovers a few feet away. He was recuperating faster than the others were and had a rather clear head. He was shocked at first by the intensity of the lovemaking. It was nothing like the wank club he had known at the farm with his brothers, nothing like what he had considered doing with Walt. This was much more primal, more serious. He was at the same time a little bit jealous to be excluded from it and also reassured that it was not him being the subject of Walt's assault. It was exciting and intimidating. He was usually bold and thought himself fearless but did not feel ready for this. He quietly retreated. Not finding anything, except for an empty bottle, he went back to sleep, using Johnny's belly as a pillow.

Homemade BBQ Sauce Recipe

Ingredients

1. 2 cups ketchup.
2. 1/2 cup apple cider vinegar.
3. 1/4 cup packed brown sugar.
4. 2 tablespoons honey.
5. 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce or coconut aminos.
6. 1 tablespoon lemon juice.
7. 1 teaspoon Stone House Seasoning.
8. 1/4 teaspoon hot sauce optional.

Chapter 18

As Miles was leaving Bear House, worried by the empty beds at that hour and wondering where all his "warriors" could be, he saw a group of boys coming towards him and the dormitory. He soon recognized them and the dog that followed. He felt immediate relief; the anxiety that had taken hold of him, after seeing the empty rooms, went away; replaced by curiosity.

Then he saw the serious faces of the boys, walking silently towards him, and he understood right away that things were not as well as he had hoped. He could see a sleepy Matthew and started counting heads. They all seemed to be accounted for except Walt and one or two others.

Sven was leading the group, head held high, in a determined poise, William by his side.

"I was worried; where have you been; what happened?" started Dunn.

"Better if we tell you inside," answered Sven with some unease.

Miles, once the boy was within distance, reached with his hand to caress the blond head and felt for the first time the boy recoil from his touch. What was the matter? But it did not last. Soon the boy was again seeking contact as they walked side by side, accepting the man's signs of affection.

They settled into the boy's bedroom away from the younger kids who went to sleep right away.

"Where are Walt and Bob?" Miles had identified at least one of the other missing boys.

"They are sleeping in the bleachers near the sports field," answered Chad. "We left them there."

"OK, Sven, now tell me what happened."

Sven started recounting the evening, avoiding the embarrassing part with Miles, though still very vivid in his mind. He rapidly got to the incident with Omar and his thugs and the trap that had been set up with the help of Ke, up to the standoff when William pulled out a gun.

Then it was William, who continued the tale.

***

The gun had made a great impression and once again, like with Ginger, the bullies had taken a few steps back. The new arrivals had gained a clear advantage. Even if Miss Simons never showed up, they now had the upper hand in the situation.

Silence had fallen. Then Sven, in a calm voice said, "Now, Omar, order your pals to untie and release our friends. No hurried moves; do it quietly. No one wants to see one of you get hurt."

William deliberately pointed the gun at the prefect to give more weight to Sven's words.

"Sven, you're not serious? Tell your friend to put down his gun. Let's discuss this thing. What do you care about them? They are nothing. They do not belong here, at Saint Xavier. I am sure you can understand that," tried Omar in a mellow voice, his eyes moving here and there calculating his chances.

"I understand that if you don't do as you're told, very bad things will happen–to you."

"You can't be serious, man; you know there will be consequences. Leave us the four town kids, or at least the girl?"

"You can't have my sister, you shithead!" It was the brother, Eric, before Harvey muzzled him again, forcefully.

"One thing I am sure of is that you won't be there to know the consequences if you don't obey me. Ready, William? Logan?"

"As ready as can be," said William, his hand and gun steady.

"Won't be able to hold Ginger much longer guys," said Logan, his arm around the dog's straining neck, No one really knew what other breed had fathered Ginger, but the kind and playful pet was gone, she was baring her fangs and growling aggressively, ready to attack.

"You won't dare," said Harvey, his sweaty hand still holding the switchblade near Eric's neck.

An uneasy silence fell again. William tightened his grip on the gun, putting his finger on the trigger.

Omar, who had seen that, and its meaning, changed his stance.

"Ok, ok, you win Sven. Let's call it quits. We'll let them go, and you can leave. No one gets hurt. No one holds a grudge either. We'll forget about it." Omar had lost and he knew it. It had gone too far. The risks were too great. He would get his revenge some other time.

"Works for me; send them over here, one at a time, Lisa first."

In a few minutes, all of the prisoners were released and safe behind Sven, William, Ginger, and Logan; putting their clothes back on as fast as they could.

"We're leaving. I don't want to hear anyone following us. Understood?"

"Understood," said a shamefaced Omar.

"Good, let's go."

***

Once outside, Sven and William felt shivers under their skin and wanted to put as much distance as they could from the shop and those boys.

"Where did you find that gun, William?"

"Just luck, I did not find Miss Simons and as I was coming back here I stumbled on Dunn's slacks and gun. He was nowhere in sight. I thought it could be handy."

"Good thinking, man"

"What about Walt and the others?" asked Logan.

"They went with Ke," answered Eric, his arm around his sister.

"Do you think they could be in danger too?" asked William, to Sven.

"Ke works for Greg now. He took them away for a reason, to set a trap or two?" It was a smart answer. "Let's stay together and look for them. Which way did you see them go, Eric?"

"In the direction of Bear House, I think."

"Let's see if we can find them there then."

The warriors' den was empty, Melvin Furst was on duty and had not seen them, and he was as concerned as they were. They left and kept on searching.

They looked everywhere for an hour before exploring the bleachers and finding Johnny, Matthew in a deep slumber, and Chad, awake, who told them in hushed tones that it was better not to disturb Walt and Bob, asleep a little farther away. Waking Matthew and Johnny with some difficulty, the little troop then took off in the direction of Bear House.

After recounting the night's events, William handed the gun back to Miles who felt very inadequate and even more shameful than before. He had not been there when his boys needed him, and to say the least, for no good reason. It had not been just an incident but a real confrontation and could have ended in blood. It showed that Carl's influence had gone deep and that a large part of the school had embraced his beliefs. At the same time, he was also quite proud of the three boys that had saved the day, notably Sven who showed extraordinary stamina and judgment holding out against bigger more numerous foes, without a weapon, and helped by a ten-year-old and his dog. William was a close second with an astonishing presence of mind and capacity at improvisation. His father would have been proud. He embraced Sven, holding him tight and kissed him in a loving way, then went on and did the same to William and Logan, and even Ginger, minus the kisses though.

"I think you've earned some sleep boys, what's left of it at least. I'll stay here with you tonight. I'll take Walt's bed. You sure I don't have to go check on them over there?"

"No need, I'm sure they're safe," said Chad with a grin.

Miles almost decided to go and bring them back with the others, but Sven was holding onto him and not letting go. Miles had a lot to be forgiven for, and felt the boy longing for his presence. They undressed rapidly and were lying down side by side; soon the boy coming to snuggle and curl up against the much larger man in trust and love; it seemed nothing he could do could alter those sentiments.

***

The hunt was on. She had been a beautiful woman of twenty-six. Now with disheveled dirty hair, her half naked scraggy body showing many scars, she was the leader of a pack of fifteen. Leader perhaps wasn't the right term. Ferals were not quite human anymore. After the rage that lasted a few hours, they were changed. Their altered minds didn't function as they had before. They had no real memory of their previous lives, no capacity to elaborate complex thoughts. They were back to their most basic and primal instincts, back to what had existed a long time ago when language and the use of tools were only in their first stages. Yet they knew how to hunt, they were evolving, learning again some of what had been lost, their senses of sight, hearing, and smell enhanced. They were driven by hunger and the need to eradicate the humans. They knew those that were of their kind and usually now roamed in packs, when they were not looking for food, they hunted and killed the humans; they were many now, they were stronger. The humans were hiding, had fled, or been killed. They ruled over the city, and each day saw their territory expand. They did not know why they had to kill the humans or how they could differentiate them from their own but they sure did. In this altered state, all their actions were driven by instinct, like a pack of wolves attacking its prey, or a troop of monkeys defending its territory from invaders.

They had heard them coming. You could not miss it. The noise of the vehicles was deafening. They had known right away that it was the enemy, the humans. and many of them. The hunt was a serious affair. The humans had strange ways to defend themselves. At times, they were easy to kill. Notably when they were little and most of them were little nowadays. But she had learned to be cautious: sometimes the humans sent fire and death, so they did not rush at them as they had often done before.

She stopped eighty feet from them, staying in the shadows, watching, listening, and picking up their scents. They were at the limit of their territory. There was a large empty space ahead, where the humans' noisy machines were in full view; it was a very clear night. The machines were now silent. About ten of the little ones were in sight; she could smell their fear, bundled together; they were not moving, not doing anything, waiting in silence. More humans were hiding close by; she could sense it. Torn between the need to kill them all and her instincts that warned her of danger, she waited, calling to the other packs. There was strength in numbers. The hunt would halt…for a time.

***

Roy Neary and Red had been waiting for over an hour now, but to no avail.

"It's not as easy as it's been before. Just had to put a few baits out, and all the ferals around would come running."

"Yes, boss, seems so, or perhaps it's an empty city and been cleaned up already?"

"Who would have cleaned it? We're the only ones doing that kind of thing, as far as I know."

"Do we leave the kids out there?"

"Yes, let them spend the night. If we're attacked, they'll go for them first; it will slow them down, as usual. We have more than we need at the moment. I already picked the more interesting ones.

Get all you can from this mall. We will leave in the morning. This town is not worth fighting for."

It had all gone smoothly, so far, thought Neary. They had found the mall right away on the outskirts of Turner, a small city. It wasn't much, a few stores put together around a Publix and Dillards.

The kids they found had taken refuge there, away from a town overrun by the ferals. They had thought they were being rescued, taken charge of by adults once again, all twenty-three of them. Neary had quickly picked those that could be of interest for the Ravagers' entertainment. The others had been herded outside to serve as bait for the ferals.

Before getting some sleep, he would go see if he could find a suitable replacement for one of his pretties. He got tired fast and liked novelty. Girls and young women were hard to come by nowadays, it was mostly boys that were available; no problem for one who had spent quite a few years in prison and from an early age. He had learned to adapt and the comely boys could now be much younger, hairless with soft skin, not really different from girls and perhaps in fact much better in many ways. He gave a last look at the bunch of kids tied up a few feet from the first vehicle, even as bait for the feral they may have been the lucky ones. There were quite a lot of pervs and wacky guys among the Ravagers. A whole floor had been full of them at Lieber prison. Some of them quite far-gone and imaginative in what they could do to other human beings. Even those pervs had their uses though, and Neary did not care. It was the end of the world after all and he was no saint himself.

When he discarded one of his pretties, the boy or girl would eventually go to someone else or have his fate sealed with the throwaways. It was less so for girls since they were more appreciated and quite scarce now.

Red came from that perv floor, he liked his kids very young, five or six at the most and they never lasted more than a week but he was the best lieutenant he could hope for: intelligent, always trustworthy, and very good at dealing with the men and the different gangs that composed their group.

They were now well organized and had their rules well established. First select and bring to the vehicles everything that could be of use: food, water, weapons, ammunition, batteries…all the essentials. This was a small mall, so they were able to assemble quickly all the goods at the entrance; the men knew well by now what to take and what to leave.

If they found some boys or girls, or women they might want to keep, to have some fun with, Neary would select those he deemed worthy, once the job was done he would distribute them among those who had earned their share of the spoils. Most of them already had a boy, more rarely a girl, to keep them company but a few wanted some new virgin flesh. This evening, as usual, they were waiting for Neary to see if he would choose one of the new captives for himself. From time to time, he would pick one for a night or more. It was rare but it happened. Then it would be their turn to make their choice.

The boys, it was only boys that night, had been put with the goods. They were nothing more than future property and probably the least valuable of the lot. Those that would not find a patron would probably be dead by morning or at best would join the others outside and some of the chosen ones too in fact – that is, after they had fulfilled their uses.

Neary had seen one or two of real interest when he had done his first selection, brothers by their looks. He had to make a closer inspection of them before deciding to keep one. He was getting tired of Maggie, a typical girl, always whining, fretting, and complaining, not as lively as his other two pretties were, as he called them.

The poor kids were cowering at his feet, terrified and full of apprehension, crying, pleading. He didn't care. They were here for one purpose only, the Ravagers' entertainment. Until now, only three of those kind of captives, poor creatures, had been adopted by the group and become members. They had been winners of Red's games; they had earned their place; the spectacle they had given and the qualities they had shown, making them worthy of their survival.

There they were, two blonds, like Maggie, he liked some diversity in his pretties and the replacement needed to be blond. The older one was twelve or thirteen, the best age range, and the younger one, no older than seven years old. That one would be his gift to Red. It was more and more difficult to find real young ones now. They had been the first to die, victims of the ferals or simply unable to take care of themselves without a sibling or parent, someone to watch over them.

He caught the boy by his long hair, pulling him up to his feet, rashly. The boy, surprised, did not utter a sound despite the pain and his fear. Neary was a rather impressive and scary guy, with the scars under his eyes, and his large muscled frame.

"Bring me some light so that I can have a good look," he ordered one of his men. "What's your name? Is this your brother?" he asked, pointing a finger at the little boy beside them.

"Yes, sir, please don't hurt him, he's just six."

"Perfect, Red will love it." He pulled once more on the boy's hair. "I asked for your name. Are you stupid?"

"No sir, Devon, sir." The boy was well behaved and he obviously knew how to address his elders; a good point. Neary liked what he was seeing, a pretty, smart face, long lashes, fair skin, red, rather generous lips. He had to see the rest.

"Take off your clothes, Devon," Neary said, letting go of the boy's hair.

"What, sir? What do you mean, sir? Neary struck him with his fist, knocking him off his feet and sending him a few feet away to land on a pile of boxes.

"Devon, I hate stupidity. You heard perfectly well what I said. Don't make me hurt you or damage you. You'd lose any value for me and anyone else. It would be very bad for you."

The Ravagers, observing the scene, laughing and sneering, waited for Neary to be done.

"If you don't want him, give him to me," said Crock. "Even damaged, he can be of use."

The boy, on all fours, had understood the seriousness of his situation and slightly dazed by the blow he began fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

"Come on boy, hurry up. I need my sleep; time for fun is slipping by."

Soon, the boy had discarded his shirt, sneakers, and jeans; he was down to his undies.

"Let me help you finish," said Neary, tearing them off the lean body, and then slapping playfully the exposed rump. "Nice, now stand up!" The boy obeyed with promptitude, he had learned his lesson. The gang leader liked it all, no fat, a slim, well-formed and balanced body, the flesh was firm, the skin satiny, the rump was plump and well rounded, a welcome feminine touch. He noticed a small light bush above a rather small cock. With some luck and after a tryout, Maggie was a goner.

"Come on Devon; let's see what you're worth. Crock, I'll be in my trailer. Take the little one to Red. He'll be pleased, but don't touch him on the way."

"Okay, okay, boss, if you say so. But if I could pick one for me, for later, it would help me keep my hands off him…"

"Well done, Crock. Sure, you're next. Make your choice."

***

Everybody overslept in the morning: at least all of those that had taken part in the festivities and those that had been drinking heavily the previous evening.

The slight morning chill woke Walt and Bob early, they were naked and in each other's arms. There was a moment of awkwardness as they made eye contact and then a quick look around before bringing their gaze once again upon the other. Walt decided to take the initiative and planted a kiss on the younger boy's sweet lips.

"You don't mind Bob? Do you regret what happened?" he asked, sweeping back a few unruly black curls from Bob's brow in a loving gesture.

"No," was the simple answer, spoken softly. He then pressed himself against the long frame of his lover.

After a moment of appreciation of the unexpected younger boy's display of affection, Walt raised himself and saw that they were alone; there was no sign of their friends around. The school was very quiet with no sign of activity yet. His watch said seven-thirty a.m. They should get dressed and join the others at Bear House. Try to be as inconspicuous as possible.

His morning wood was as hard as ever with a strong need to pee. He saw that Bob was in a similar state and played at rubbing them together.

"Mine is so much smaller," said Bob with a smile.

"Smaller, but so adorable."

"Do you think we have time? I've got quite a headache though."

"Yeah, me too. And I got to pee. We should go to the dorm and get an aspirin. We will find a moment later… That is, if you want to?"

"I want to, sure. Now that I know how it feels."

"Yeah, it was great for me too, and my first time…with a boy, I mean."

"We should go, then."

"It's very quiet; perhaps we could still have a go at it? But first, I need to pee."

"Yeah, me too."

They stood and went to a nearby tree.

"What should we tell the others?" asked Bob with a concerned look.

"The truth: that I found a companion. That's the simplest and best way, if they don't already know it. I'm sure they saw us together before leaving."

"What about Chad? Weren't you together?"

"Not really, he'll understand. But you're right, after what happened to his parents, I can't let him down, I'll have to spend some time with him."

"Only time?" asked Bob in a smart way.

"Well, it depends."

"Depends on what?" They had finished peeing; Walt was still as hard as before and picked up the smaller boy, holding him. Bob wrapped his legs and arms around the much bigger boy. They kissed.

"Depends, on whether I get enough of you or not."

"I'm all yours," assured Bob.

Walt placed his two hands under the boy's buttocks with one thumb playing with his hole.

"I never thought I could get in there so easily and that it would feel so good. I hope I didn't hurt you?"

"It was strange and hurt some at first but then you touched the right spot, I didn't want you to stop. You can do it anytime you want, I don't care if it's gay anymore." Bob held on to Walt, his arms around his shoulders while they went back to the bleachers.

***

Abrams came to knock on Dunn's door at eight-thirty sharp that morning. They were set to go back to the Conner farm to round up some of the poultry, cattle, and horses and bring them to the school grounds. They would start their own farm soon. At least that was the plan.

Getting no answer, he pushed the door open and saw an empty room.

"It's been a short night for most of us, Abrams, and an eventful one too." Miles had heard him and was coming out of the boys' room on the other side of the corridor.

"You slept with the boys?"

"I did, there were some complications, and it could have ended badly. I'll tell you later. I'll try to get some of the kids ready. Then I have to see Omar." It was time he asserted himself, he had been too passive, avoiding any confrontation with him, he needed to show more muscle, take the lead before it was too late.

"It was quite hectic last evening indeed. I was in charge of the infirmary, as you know, but I heard of it."

"I must say I feel guilty, I got carried away, forgot my duties. But I'm quite proud of our boys. They clearly saved the day. Go find Louise, I'll meet you in thirty minutes at the barn and tell you both. If you see Walt, tell him he is needed there too."

"I'll do that and I want to hear it all. You made me curious."

Coming back into the room, he had a look at the sleeping boys and the girl. Lisa was sharing a bed with her brother. The Conner boys shared another bed, a jumble of arms and legs with a cute bottom on show in the middle. Johnny and William had a bed to themselves lying on top of their covers in their boxer shorts. Logan shared his bed with Ginger who had settled over his legs. The Edward twins were lying naked on their side, back-to-back, little Silvio between them. Only Matthew was alone, Bob, who shared his bed, had not shown up yet. Then there was Sven who had been awakened when Miles had left him to see who was knocking on their door.

He looked quite striking, his lean and delicate body on show, tousled long blond hair going in every direction, eyes half open, and still sleepy. He had kept his underwear on but Miles could see clearly under the thin cloth an evident erection. Miles would have liked to have the time to show him how appreciative he was of him – this wonderful creature, whose beauty was inside as well as outside. He had shown courage, empathy, presence of mind, all very rare in someone so young. How lucky Miles was to have been this boy's chosen one.

He came to him, kissed him long and deep while getting a feel of his young hard cocklet under the cloth.

"Sorry, we don't have time for more now. But we will catch up later. I'm so proud of you and William. Get everyone awake and ready. We will need everybody, send for Arthur, Mike and Lukas, and the Mullers. We have work to do at the farm. I need to have a chat with Seku, first. I don't think he'll like it. I'll be back in a few minutes."

The boy was slightly disappointed, he had hoped for a few moments together, but acquiesced nonetheless watching Miles leave the room after getting hastily dressed and fastening his gun belt.

***

Miles entered the prefect's room without knocking. Omar Seku was on his bed naked, like many now, because of the heat, and now that air conditioning was a thing of the past.

"Hello, Omar, good morning."

The boy awoke with a startled look at the imposing man, and with obvious fear.

"I think you know why I came to visit. You did not think that what happened last night would have no consequences? What a waste, I thought we had come to a rather good working relationship since that committee meeting."

"What do you want," replied Seku, who was regaining some of his enormous confidence.

"Not much for now. If you behave and I don't hear from you anymore." Miles paused and then said, "Yes, that's what I want. I don't want to hear anything from you or any of your friends. Be sure I have all the names. I want you all to leave those refugee kids alone and make sure that everyone else does the same."

"And if we don't leave them alone? They don't belong here. That's what Mister Fisher says, all day long. This school is ours. He'll stand by us, whatever we do."

"It seems you don't understand. This is between you and me. If I get the slightest complaint, I'll deal with you myself. There will be no second chance. I'll deal with you and any other troublemaker of yours. And you won't like it. You won't like it one bit. In fact, you may not like anything anymore after I am done with you. What you tried to do yesterday was despicable and unacceptable. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt because you are young and inexperienced. You made a deal with Sven, so I'll respect that. But don't take any more chances, boy, you have none left. If necessary, I'm ready to deal with Mister Fisher too but I don't think he would support you anyway. What you tried to do was stupid and inexcusable."

Miles turned to leave, not waiting for an answer. He had seen Omar glance at the rifle beside the bed, within arm's reach.

"Don't even think of it, Omar. This was your last warning. I want to see you at five p.m. in my office for your activity report. Don't be late."

***

Miles went to the cafeteria for a rapid breakfast and coffee, a few of his boys were there already with Sven as well as Anthony.

"Hurry up boys; we must be ready in ten minutes. Has anyone seen Louise yet?"

"No, sir," was the common answer.

"I would like her to stay with our young guests," said Miles, pointing to the refugee kids having breakfast. "It would be better for my peace of mind."

"I'll watch over them, till you find her, and stay with them. I had a very busy night and I don't feel like running after all those farm animals," said Anthony.

"I see what you mean, Anthony."

"It was a very great evening and night, believe me. All the club boys and companions were strongly encouraged to make as many new recruits as they could during the festivities. It was no chore for me."

"Why didn't you warn us, if you knew what they planned?" asked a suddenly vindictive Chad.

"Hey, calm down buddy, I'm with you. I was told just before it started, and I didn't know they put booze or drugs in the drinks. I only knew about the free beers; had a few myself. It looked rather harmless to me."

"Yes, that's alright Anthony. Better even if some of the information you get doesn't come our way. You're in a difficult position. It shows Carl that he can trust you." Miles checked that none of the boys had followed that part of the conversation. If Anthony was playing as double agent, there could be others. "Have Walt and Bob shown up yet?"

"Yes, right after you left, they had already taken a bite and went for a shower," said Chad.

"Good, everyone get a weapon at the armory, and then join me at the barn."

"Anthony, come over here for a minute." Miles took the boy into an adjoining room, away from any prying eyes or ears. "Do you have your phone?"

"Always with me." The boy was among those with access to electricity and could charge his phone at leisure. He had some precious family pictures on it and of course a few games and applications still working.

Miles unwrapped a few sheets of paper he had kept in his back pocket and placed them on a table.

"It's your next report to Fisher, take pictures of those notes, and give them to him. I'm sure he will be very pleased with you."

"Will do."

"Tell him I'm furious after last night's incident. But that I still want to find a peaceful solution. Can you do that?"

"Of course. Even if I would rather love to see you kick their ass, notably Omar's and especially Greg's."

"I would love to, believe me, but it is better if we can avoid it. That would show we have settled our differences with Fisher and found an agreement on how to run the school. I've dwelt with much worse individuals in the past."

"Looks unlikely to me, even more so since yesterday," answered a lucid and skeptical Anthony.

***

Melanie Hollis was raging.

Her previous role as a preacher had made her a natural leader for this small community, it had helped them overcome the many dramas they had encountered since the appearance of the Shanxi flu. They had lost many, and though she herself did not believe in God anymore–how could you still believe, confronted with such an absurd reality–she had used religion and her knowledge of faith to keep them all together. She had also added some much needed authority and exacting rules to make it work. Now she was the mother figure of mostly children, of the hundred and two people in the community, only nine were adults. What she was most proud of was of having given refuge to a few wandering girls who were scarce and precious, exposed to many more dangers than boys were. Every day she went to nearby towns trying to find more, she could also bring back people in need, of course, but her mission was to save and gather as many girls and women as possible.

William had moved his bed into her room and fallen asleep on it. His night had been restless and in the end, she had not resisted taking him into her own bed. He was her favorite, her protégé, she knew that and often tried to fight it by treating him like any of the others, but she could never discard the special affection she had for him. He was a naïve, adorable child, full of wonder for everything and without any bad feeling for anyone, always seeing the good side of things. How that experience would have affected him, she had no idea; he had gone through a lot already and had not changed. She was so angry with herself for letting it happen and for not watching over him. It had been an overwhelming relief when she had seen him come back alone from the forest edge but she also felt anguish when she had seen his tears and that he was naked. It was wrong, those kinds of things happened to women, not to little boys.

She was very aware that she had almost lost William and she also knew that the devil that had taken and held him for a few hours had done despicable things to him. If she caught him, he would not see the end of that day.

For now, she had the fate of Frank to spell out. He was in large part responsible for what had happened but he was also still very much a child and she could not ban him as she had thought of doing at first.

She knew how dangerous their world had become. In the towns she had visited, she had seen evils of many different kinds. The ferals, of course, but also many survivors who were often worse than the beasts those poor souls had become. Those, unaffected by the flu, showed cruelty, selfishness, and utter contempt for their fellow human beings. She had also heard many a tale from the girls she had rescued.

So, what to do with Frank? She entered the common room where most of the community was gathered. It had been a yoga center, only a few weeks ago. The teen, his face eaten by acne, was seated alone in front of the others – she had left William in her room, she didn't want him there.

As soon as she had taken her place, she spoke and told him what she had decided.

"Frank, stand up."

The boy, unsure, obeyed.

"Since you have exposed William to danger without the intention of putting him at risk, I thought the best way to teach you a lesson was to do the same to you. From this day, you will accompany me or any other member of the community that leaves the community for whatever task has been judged useful. You will be on duty every day for the next six months. Do you accept this sentence?"

"I do," everyone could see he was rather relieved, he had certainly feared much worse.

"From now on, you will be exposed to the many dangers of our world; I hope you will learn from it. Now, to all of you, what happened yesterday must not happen again, we must redouble our guard. It was a lone individual on a motorbike, but there could be others with him, he could have been a scout for a larger group, testing us. No one is to wander alone in the next days, and, as I already said, we will double our lookouts this week. If anyone notices something suspicious, he has to report it right away. All of you have a good day."

She went back to her bedroom to check on William. He was sleeping peacefully in her bed holding tightly his teddy bear that he still needed each evening to fall asleep. How could anyone hurt such a beautiful child, she wondered.

***

Such people did exist, though. In fact, the very person responsible for the little boy's misfortune was watching intently the community through his binoculars and he wasn't alone this time, Tools was with him.

Carl had demanded that he accompany Greg from that day forward. He had seen something had gone wrong on his last outing; he didn't want to take any risks and lose him. He had decided they would need to constitute a group of four of five roaming the area in search of communities more or less isolated that held some interest for the school future, with the first item on their list being of the female kind.

"I've already seen three," said Greg, "I think we've hit the jackpot."

What he was really looking for was for that little shitboy who had ridiculed him. There was no sign of him so far.

"Three is a lot nowadays, I agree. But they seem to be very much on their guard. They got sentinels everywhere."

"Yeah, no way we can get closer. That's too big a place for us anyway, there's too many of them. All we could hope for is to catch a stray one. They must come out from time to time."

"That's the only way we can get what we want for now. We will have to come back some other time and watch them, try to find a way in."

"I got that farm on my list, a woman and her two boys. That would make a perfect first objective. Easy as pie."

"Have you thought of who could join us?"

"Well, I got it all set, Lewis, Silva, and Seku. I know I can trust them and they're reliable."

"Sounds good to me. Did you talk to them already?"

"No, but I'm sure they'll love it: going on the hunt with us with all the opportunities for fun that can be found!"

"There's some risk too."

"That's the spice of life, believe me."

Tools found ironic that a student, even one as brilliant as Greg, gave him lessons on life. He had been learning a lot recently though. He had discovered a completely hidden side of himself and had been exploring it thoroughly ever since. It was exalting and terrifying at the same time. He was developing a new approach to his love of boys–a more primal lust for their bodies and the pleasures they gave, replacing the more altruistic and spiritual side of things that had driven him before. He liked the idea of going on the hunt, perhaps he would be able to unleash the anger that had been boiling inside him since that revelation. He could not accept who he was becoming and was turning that anger toward the objects of his desire. Recently he had had to restrain himself from hurting some of his young partners, it was not easy, and he feared that one day soon, that restraint would no longer be possible. An outlet away from the school was desperately needed where he could give free rein to his anger. With Greg he had understood that it would pose no problem, he suspected he was seeking similar accomplishments. He welcomed that new opportunity as much as he feared it, not sure of the shape it would take, what other kind of monster could be unleashed that had been lurking inside him without his knowledge. These transformations were tearing him apart; they were at once outraging and fascinating.

The horses were waiting not far away. Greg had finally listened and understood that the motorcycle was not the most judicious way of travel and that noise could bring danger. They would look better on a Harley than on a horse but this was not the time for that and they had only one silent Zero SR available.

"Can you show me that farm? Is it far?" asked Tools.

***

Despite Chad's guidance, herding all those animals was a challenge. It was also quite fun and the occasion for a few good laughs. Ginger proved her usefulness and helped a lot. It was real work but at the same time, everyone's mind was taken away from their current worries.

Tired, hungry, but in high spirits they had achieved a large part of their goal when they returned four hours later. The cattle and horses were put in two corrals near the barn. The chickens were housed nearby too.

A shower would have been required but they preferred to indulge first in a much-needed lunch with leftovers from the recent barbecue. Miles checked that all hands had been properly washed beforehand. They were a quite happy and noisy bunch, alone in the large dining hall. It was close to two hours after the start of the lunch service.

Miles knew he would soon have to confront Fisher. Things were moving fast, much faster than he would have thought possible with the new headmaster marking many points and getting the upper hand. He knew how to push all the right buttons, and his influence was relayed by the growing number of club members now called companions. Miles saw some advantages to the implementation of the system, bringing the boys closer together and most of all making his sexual inclinations part of the norm. But Fisher wanted to go further than that, he wanted to shape the school in his image, and its students would be his soldiers to defend and impose his beliefs and interests. They would be a tool for the benefit of the elite chosen by Fisher. A dictator in the making and in Miles eyes a recipe for disaster. If they segregated the school from the rest of the world, they took the risk of missing many opportunities. Miles' ideal scenario would be of using the school as a refuge for all. Bringing to it more talent and manpower in the hope of restoring some of what had been lost. He had been forced to hide his sexual preferences, as had those like him but he did not want revenge like Carl, he just wanted to be accepted for what he was: a man with peculiar tastes but a man who just wanted a better world and with very similar aspirations as most. Incredibly, the Shanxi flu had been a blessing for him. He was surrounded by trusting boys, some that even loved him and some that had let him love them. He wanted to give back as much as he had received.

In fact since the flu outbreak, with the menace of sickness and death, the collapse of society, he had finally found a meaning to his life, he had fulfilled dreams he had never thought possible. He had never been so alive. It was terrible to say that, but it was the naked truth. Carl Fisher might have also welcomed the drastic changes brought by the flu however he wasn't at all in the same state of mind.

He would confront Fisher at the next committee in two days, see if he could change the course that Saint Xavier was taking; try to find allies. His chances were slim, but he had to try. If it didn't work, there would be only two options left. First, a confrontation he had some chances to win but at what cost? The second to leave the school with those that wanted to follow him; he could probably negotiate their departure in the next few weeks. After that, he was sure Fisher would resent it as a desertion and would oppose it forcefully, bringing them back to their first option. Last night's serious incident and Omar's attitude this morning showed that the situation could escalate very fast. He had to be ready and make sure that those close to him and those that did not approve of Fisher's leadership were on his side and ready for action.

He was watching the boys around him so full of life, carefree at this moment, the danger and loss that went with their new life forgotten. There were guns and rifles lying around, a striking contrast to the general atmosphere of the scene. They were joking, laughing recounting their morning, chasing chickens, horses, or cattle, all the funny incidents that had made those hours so memorable. He dreaded what they would become in the next few weeks, what they would have to do, to risk, if they followed him. But he was determined, what had to be done, had to be done. Louise had probably been right from the start that morning in the chapel. He, they, would do it for the sake of each other, if all else failed. He had to prepare his arguments, that committee meeting would be decisive; he had to turn the tide.

He observed also that there had been quite a few changes in the boys' relations since the last night. Sven and William had gained some leadership and authority now almost equal to Walt's. All the boys in their group had now heard the story and looked up to them in a respectful way.

Walt and Chad did not seem as close as they had been in the last few days, it was Bob now who sat closest to him; they touched and looked at each other, often, and for long periods of time. Miles had easily identified the signs.

Mike and Lukas were seated well apart and they had avoided each other all morning; it was the younger boy who seemed to show some resentment while the older one was trying to mend the situation. He suspected that there had been some quarrel, had Mike been under the influence and behaved tactlessly like himself?

The fallout of the previous evening and night, with all the events and interactions that had occurred due to the excess of alcohol, probably the use of drugs and promiscuity, would have strong and long-lasting effects on their community: one more reason also to be wary of Fisher and his methods. They were lucky that there had been no serious accidents.

Something was different with Sven too; in fact, it had been so for a few days but more evident now. Did something happen last night? Did it have something to do with his newfound status? Often he looked sad and distant, moody, almost angry sometimes. What was troubling him? He did not talk of his family, or his fears. Miles had become very close to him, but he was no substitute for the boy's parents. He had been doing what he could to alleviate the boy's fears, in fact he did the same for all the boys, he showed and expressed his love for him as often as possible but it may not have been enough. It could also be Miles himself, the fact that he went with other boys, many other boys. Was Sven jealous? William had found his gun, had they seen him chasing those boys, laying with them, fucking…? Miles needed to know. The evening would be dedicated to the boy, to try to bring back the passionate and happy child he had been when they had first met.

He was lost in his thoughts when Abrams interrupted him.

"Miles, I think I need to go to the infirmary." It was the first time he called him Miles and not Dunn.

"I don't think you got any duties there."

"You don't understand… I'm sick."

"What do you mean, sick?" The scene was suddenly reminiscent of another one, recent with Daniels. The boys close to the two men had stopped talking and were listening. The smiles had disappeared from their faces. They had all grown fond of the man who was always available for counseling and had always a kind or comforting word for them.

"You know… Sick."

"I see… You're sure?" Miles had some difficulty accepting the news. "Have you checked your temperature?" They had only a few thermometers left in working order, all the others had stopped working, or showing random results, they had obviously not been made for intense use. Everyone now had to report once a day, at dinner, for signs of sickness.

"No need to. I know the signs."

"You sure do. I'll take you there, then."

"I would like that."

"Walt, have the boys take a shower, they stink, and then ask Louise to organize some training or do some chores. Let's go, Joe."

The whole table had fallen silent. As Miles stood up, the boys did the same, all coming to shake hands with the janitor and encourage him.

When they arrived, Shirley wasn't there. Abrams was taken charge of by the two prefects present. There were three younger aids there too. It had become a sinister place, a place of pain and death. And those that worked at the infirmary, those who had chosen to do so, had become very much like it with a creepy side to them. Miles stayed during the whole procedure, trying by his presence and support to show the man how important and precious he was for him and those he represented. The infirmary was almost empty, new cases had been diminishing in numbers for a week now. There were two boys and one adult lying on beds manacled to the bedposts by hand and foot. Now that he thought about it, he realized that it had been days, if not more than a week since he had last visited the place.

Miles was losing a friend first, but he was also losing an important ally at a time when he needed them the most. After some words of comfort and with the promise that he would visit again in the evening, Miles left the building perhaps made even more ominous by its near emptiness.

***

Carl Fisher was fully satisfied. His plans were working even better than he had expected. That night had brought him many supports. Many of the boys who had been hesitant or afraid, had been converted. They had been exposed to pleasures they had no real knowledge of and most of them had embraced them. He thought it amounted to two-thirds of the school now that were behind him and his troops. The only problem left was Dunn's and Louise's clear opposition to what he envisioned for the future of Saint Xavier, and a few others still adverse to Carl's declared sexual orientation and the companion system.

Although the marine was still withholding vital information, there were good chances of convincing him to side with them. Anthony's reports went that way and thanks to the boy, Carl had seen some of those documents. Worrisome was what he had also learned from the boy concerning the incident the night before. It was not in his interest to provoke Dunn at this moment. What troubled him even more was that no one in his camp had informed him of it. He had to remedy that as soon as possible. It was vital that he knew everything that went on at Saint Xavier. It was out of the question that any of his prefects would put the whole takeover at risk. All the boys present would have to explain themselves. True, his orders concerned the Saint Xavier boys and not the outsiders but the spirit was the same for now. It was all going so fast. He had forced the pace lately and he was certainly partly responsible, it could have brought some confusion. He had to reprimand his troops without being too hard on them and set things right in their minds.

Access to resources would be of great value in the next months and years and he suspected Dunn to hold the key to vital information on that matter, he had to find a way to get to them. They had a lot to master before they could hope to achieve their autonomy. Carl at first had thought the school could be self-sufficient. Not anymore, on that point he agreed with Dunn. But where Dunn wanted to open wide the doors and welcome whoever presented himself, Carl had very different views. Only those that brought knowledge or talent would be accepted, those that could be used for entertainment purposes detained. The others had no place here, they would be sent away: willingly or forcefully.

Carl now pursued fantasies that would have appeared impossible a mere month before. He saw himself like those Arab princes who were said to have secret harems of boys, or Tiberius and his minnows. In the very next few weeks that could become a reality. That would become a reality. There would be a harem of girls too, for those who liked them. It would be, certainly, a way to get the support of some of the reluctant older students and please some of the new valuable members of their community.

He now had a precise idea of how it would work. The harem would comprise ten to fifteen boys, more would not be reasonable; with a possibility of some turnover when they lost their appeal or better candidates were found. They would be discarded or lent to a worthy prefect; he could create kind of a whorehouse where boys could be shared with a few of his lieutenants as rewards, or, why not, the whole community.

For the girls and women his plans were different. They were now rare and valuable; they would all stay; the harem girls and the mothers. He knew very well that boys got older and lost their appeal, so he had to grow the next generation of his catamites. He might also keep a few very young ones to fill the gap. The mothers would take care of them. They would become attached and easier to control that way, overall a perfect combination. In due time, some might get a different status, from harem girl to mother, from mother to member of the community.

At the assembly, he had said that women had become precious and that from them depended the future of humanity. That was probably very true but in fact he didn't care one bit about the future of humanity. He only cared about his own future and to a lesser part Greg's future: a future that would only cater to his desires and his needs.

Louise would never accept that. Dunn he wasn't that sure. He had lived like him in shame and fear of discovery. Perhaps he had suffered even more than himself who had the club and its network, with access to lovely boys. Perhaps he could be convinced to adhere to Carl's views. For a man with his past it had a major appeal. Look at Tools; he had been converted in no time.

Louise alone was no match for them… Louise and Dunn together, that was something else. They could always try to use surprise or deceit but he thought they were not ready yet to confront them directly. He knew of Shirley and her brigade. But poisoning people that were going to die and fighting a well-trained marine who had known combat, that was completely different. Anyway, for now, they depended on each other. The marine was one of his strong assets; he could not discard him yet.

Carl wanted to change the course of his thoughts. Why bother himself with menaces that might never become real. The flu was still there. With luck, it could solve the problem. Carl had decided long ago that he would survive it. Like his club, that against all odds had thrived for many years.

A harem: that was a soothing, exciting thought. And he had the means of creating an embryo of it, right now. He had decided in the morning to keep for himself two of the previous evening initiates. Together with Enrico that would make three boys, at his disposal at all times. They were all very young and comely, easy to shape in any way he could wish for. That would be a first step and would make no waves. He had given Cole away to Shirley – given back, in fact. He was hers anyway and she seemed to have ideas of her own on how to deal with him. He would watch very closely how the boy reacted to the treatment he had inflicted on him, if he stayed the obedient puppet he had become, or if he regained some of his stamina. He hoped Shirley would leave Cole some breathing space to let the experiment run its course but he feared she had more dire projects than he did concerning the boy.

Little Paul was learning fast. He had been sucking his cock for the last twenty minutes while Carl, seated behind his desk was studying the printed pictures Anthony had given to him earlier with very interesting and precious information. Enrico had been a very good teacher and was showing his talents to Peter, now lying on the couch… Peter, what a fitting name for a boy in his position.

***

Dunn was doing what he did best, what he had been trained to do for years. His troops this time were boys between 10 and 17. He was as strict and demanding as he had been in the marines. This was no game. This was a life or death matter. It was often said in movies and novels, but it was also true. If you don't know how to use a weapon, a gun, if you're not ready to use it, don't do it. It was of course a bit more complex than that, mostly the second part. You never knew if you were ready or not until you had to do it. Still knowing your weapon helped a lot and avoided accidents.

They were all very young, and only a few of them had seen any action. But they were quite good, notably Bob who excelled with a difficult weapon to master, the crossbow, one that needed strength. He was drilling them repeatedly until what they had to do was engrained, and came naturally.

It wasn't only Dunn's warriors that he was working with–although it did seem he gave more attention to them and their performances – he did share all his knowledge with the others too. If there was a fight during a raid or an attack, they all had to perform to the best of their abilities. One weak link and the whole group could be lost.

He was concentrating on his task. Trying to push away the image of Abrams manacled on his bed in the vastness of the gymnasium, called the house of death by many.

Watching the boys repeat their moves and follow his orders, he was trying to understand how Bob managed it and got those results. He, for sure, wasn't himself a specialist of the crossbow, but even if he took into account the modern mechanisms and lighter materials, he was still baffled. Beside the boy, was, of course, Matthew and hovering behind them Walt, with Chad in tow. Those four since the beginning of the training had been seemingly inseparable. Mikey was a few rows away. probably wanting to show his independence. Louis, at seven, seated on the lawn, was watching intently, envious, since he was too young to join his two brothers on the field. Sven, William, some of the refugee kids and many others were sweating away through their moves and exercises.

The announced loss of Abrams was a cruel blow. All of them tried to forget about the flu, to avoid thinking of who might be next. It had been easier with the diminishing number of cases these last days but the menace, one among many, but probably the deadlier was still there.

All the boys in front of him had lost the gleefulness they had shown during their late lunch. They showed serious faces and few smiles when they achieved the tasks they were given.

They had been working for close to two hours now with only a short ten-minute break.

"Kids! You did quite well. Time off now. It will be free time for those who have no duty or chores, after a much-needed cold shower. Let's go."

Miles was always surprised that they still had running water. One of the recently deceased teachers, was it Ackerton or perhaps Shaft, had told him that the system that fed the school could keep on running by itself for months and more, probably years, as long as there was no prolonged drought, a problem with the water pipes, or some other malfunction. It was all a matter of gravity: the water came from the North Carolina Mountains, where rainwater filled huge reservoirs; it was pure and clean, treated with chlorine only. It just went down pipes gaining pressure on its way. The most likely problem would be clogging of the intake ports, but with far less usage, they should stay clear for a long time.

The shower sessions had lost much of their discipline, first come, first served, was now the rule. If the boys were trusted with guns, it was thought they could take a shower by themselves. The few adults left and the prefects had other priorities than to watch over them. Cleanliness had never been a boy's thing, but they were very much helped by the suffocating heat of the last days and the sweat that came with it.

Miles watched the more than forty Bear boys that had been training on the field with him, many rushing ahead to get there first. The name Bear boys did not quite fit anymore, in fact, those were the ones that slept at Bear House. Miles did not try to catch up with them. He just followed, soon joined by Matthew, who, as usual, took his place by his side close enough to touch. With Matthew was Bob, of course, and now Walt and Chad. On his other side walked Sven and William, Logan and Ginger, Eric and Lisa close behind.

Lisa would have her shower once all the others were done–by herself. Miles would make sure she did not have too long to wait and would not be bothered.

When he arrived, there were quite a few wet and naked boys around and you could judge by their attitude how much had changed since that first shower duty, ages ago. Promiscuity was no longer a problem. They had been boarding schoolboys, and at the time, they had not been shy to expose their bodies. But now many were deliberately on display, whether wet or dry they had no need of a towel to hide anything. Quite a few even, knowing Miles' interests, put on a show for him, putting cock and ass in good perspective. Being part of the so-called Dunn's warriors seemed to have its appeal, at least here at Bear House.

Many shared a showerhead, making the whole affair faster for everyone, and sometimes going even further without being as demonstrative or obnoxious as young Grayson had been that first day. Miles saw Mike and Lukas together in the same stall and deduced they had cleared their differences. Had Mike been led astray the previous evening? That was a very likely explanation. Miles might have not been the only one at fault that night.

Miles, anyway, needed to see what was troubling Sven, he still had a rather erratic behavior, smiling and affectionate for a time, reserved and somber a moment later. What was bothering him? It could not be that serious when you considered he was barely twelve years old. No, that was stupid to think that way. Twelve-year-old's pains and fears could be as deep and valid as Miles' own or anyone else's.

It was soon the turn of the late arrivals. They had undressed as soon as they had entered, waiting in the changing room, Miles had picked up some clean shorts and a shirt on the way but at the moment was as naked as everyone else, attracting a few appreciative glances and occasionally returning them. Modesty was certainly not required. He was again mesmerized by the changes that had occurred over such a short period of time. It had to be said, in large part due to Carl's influence and decisions. For that, he had to be grateful.

Joining Sven under the water he marveled at such simple beauty appreciating the erotic contrast between the deep tan of the torso and legs and the milk white of the midsection and plump buttocks. Picking up some soap, he lathered the boy to get him clean, massaging and kneading the flesh and strained muscles, the boy doing the same for him and showing the hint of a lovely erection. They were enjoying each other's bodies and attentions and would have liked to linger more but Lisa was waiting and after a few minutes, they exited the stall and dressed. The few boys left were now all back in the changing room and the gloom of the day had somewhat lifted with the perspective of some free time.

"Boys, it would be nice if you went and visited Abrams. Pass the word around. Okay?"

"Well, sure, no problem, that's only natural," replied Walt, one arm around Bob, the other around Chad.

"Better to accompany the younger ones there, Walt," added Miles. "It's a place with bad vibes." He ruffled Matthew's still wet curls who seemed a bit put aside by the other three. He would have to check on that too. The kid was his responsibility, well a bit more than the others were anyway.

"Go on kids, it's Lisa's turn now. Go away!"

He went to fetch her, waiting in an adjoining room with her brother.

"It's all yours princess. Eric you're going with her. I'll wait with Sven by the door."

"Thanks, sir." replied the girl and boy in unison.

"Just call me, Miles, kids. And don't stay too long, I have a lot to do yet."

It was a small lie; Miles wanted to dedicate the next hours to Sven and to try to fix whatever troubled the boy. He had spent very little quality time with him lately considering their strong ties. He would also need to visit Abrams and would take the boy with him.

After visiting their friend in the gymnasium, it was time for dinner. They did not stay long as Miles told Sven that this evening was for the two of them and no one else; he asked him what he would like to do. He could certainly get him access to Fisher's much in demand game room.

"No, thank you." Miles didn't expect that answer.

"There's not much else to do. I thought you would have jumped at the chance."

"You said we would be together, just the two of us. That's fine with me." There was a surprising eagerness in the boy.

"That's fine with me, too. I've never been a fan of video games anyway. I much prefer to spend my time with a smart young lad like you. And I think we got a few things to discuss together."

The boy furrowed his brows questioningly.

"Yes, a lot has happened these last weeks. I want to know how you are managing all of it, and if I can be of help for some of it. I think I haven't taken care of you as well as I should have. Come; let's go find a peaceful place for the two of us." Miles stood up and the boy followed taking his hand. Miles loved that show of affection; they left the dining hall as two young lovers going for a stroll.

***

The evening was hot and slightly breezy. They walked in silence. Miles was thinking of the best place for some peace and quiet. After a moment's reflection, he brought the boy to the location of their first close contact, the infirmary. The administration building was always empty at that time.

"Do you remember when you came to me that night? You must have been terrified and that must have taken you some courage. I was terrified myself, I could never have done such a feat as you, believe me."

"You're kidding me. I don't believe you," answered the boy with a smile.

"You should. At that time, accepting your love was a near impossible thing for me. There was so much at stake. I had lived all those years in fear of being discovered, of ending as a pariah."

"I still can't believe that."

"You're young, so much younger than me. But you certainly know how difficult it is to be different, whatever your difference. I know you felt it when you came to me, you were aware of the risks you were taking. What could happen to you if it was known? I call that courage, a large amount of it." Miles had clearly made a point; the boy had to acknowledge it.

"Okay, it wasn't easy. But it was exciting."

"You see, it was the same for me."

"But now nobody cares anymore."

"Yes, in a way we're lucky, in other times it could have ended very badly for the both of us. At the same time, we can't say that the current situation is the best we could hope for. We've been through a lot, and there's more coming I'm afraid."

The boy stayed silent, thoughtful. Miles could not refrain from admiring the beautiful creature he was contemplating. They lit a single battery lamp, outside it was becoming dusk. Yes, even in those terrible times you could say he was lucky. Sven and many of the other boys he was in relation with were worth his love and loyalty and not only because of their appearance. They were not empty shells, as Fisher seemed to think, that you could manipulate, use and discard. They were as beautiful inside as outside and it was Miles or any adult's role to help them on their way to adulthood and give them to the world.

"It seems to me, you've been upset, bothered these last few days. Is there something you want to tell me? Would you like us to discuss it and see what can be done about it? We've never had a serious talk about your parents and family. It must be worrying you, like everyone else here, at the school. We all hope for the best but it is difficult. I think the worst feeling is the uncertainty, not knowing what happened to them and if you have a chance to see them again one day."

"I think it is very unlikely. It is very sad, but that's a fact." The boy was trying to hold it but the evocation of his family had shaken him a bit. Miles did not wish to linger on the subject; there was not much that could be done; only his care and presence could probably help.

"Yes you're right. We have forged ourselves some kind of a new family here. It will never replace the real one but it can help us endure the loss." Miles took the boy's hand. "I'm here for you and you are free to tell me all that you want about them, how you miss them." He made a silent pause to give the boy a chance to express himself. He did not catch it.

"Then there was the incident at the car dealer. You shot and killed ferals for the first time that day. Once again, you showed courage and perhaps saved Anthony. But still, they were human beings that you shot at. Even though they had been transformed, you had no choice, it's not an easy thing to do and live with. I should have talked to you about it before. I should do it with all of you. I've been through it myself and I've seen many of my men, soldiers rattled by it. Do you think of it sometimes?" This time Miles got a reaction.

"I do, yes. I try not to. In fact, I don't remember it all that well, there are just a few images, feelings; it's all fragmented. I remember Anthony on the ground holding his ankle, the recoil of the gun, the blood, but mostly the smells. Those ferals really stunk when they got close! The noise was deafening with the others firing… and the buzzing in my ears when it was over. Mister Wells still seated but already dead…"

"You showed your value that day and you did it again yesterday at the shop. You've become kind of a leader for many in our small group. From now on, the boys will be more demanding of you, you will be watched, they will seek your counsel, turn to you in case of a crisis. That's a lot, once again for one as young as you are. You must be asking yourself so many questions. It can become a burden."

"Both times it came naturally. I never thought of it that way before. I did what I had to do. It's true I've felt a change around me, but not that much, and yesterday I wasn't alone, there was William, there was Logan and Ginger."

"Yes, but you did the talking. It is you who stood up to a bunch of much bigger boys."

"That's true and I'm rather pleased with myself, but I had no other choice. Did I?"

"Many will disagree with that, and many would have turned tails, not put themselves at risk for a few refugees you barely knew. It shows you have courage and also a conscience. That you are ready to defend what you feel is right. I love you Sven."

"Really? Why don't you show it to me like before, like with the others?" replied the boy.

"What do you mean? Am I the problem?" Miles stayed silent, hoping Sven would say more about what was not working, spare him the pain of going through his own vicissitudes and shortcomings.

Sven did not help him. He had been surprised by his own reply. There was a lot at stake so he decided to let the man find the answer for himself.

Miles wasn't sure how to handle the conversation, how to make Sven state his griefs. It had to be some kind of jealousy, the boy felt neglected. He was right in part.

"From the start I told you there was Anthony, I recognize there have been many more since. I'm afraid you saw me yesterday, half-drunk with boys whose name I don't even know. Are you jealous? Do you want me to change that? I could try but I don't know if I really can. You see I am like someone who loves candy, who craves it, and has been denied it all his life. Suddenly he finds himself in a place where candy is everywhere and readily available, without consequences and as much as he can consume. How do you stop yourself? I really don't know if I could. Do you see what I mean?

"I do, but that's not really the problem."

"Tell me then, what is it I should do."

Sven was clearly embarrassed and didn't know how to explain himself, what words to use.

"Come on don't be shy. We are here to say everything," encouraged Miles, hoping he had not, involuntarily hurt the boy or would not be hurt himself by what the boy wanted to tell him.

"Well, it's difficult to say, and quite simple at the same time." Sven's cheeks had reddened. "I'm afraid you are losing interest in me, that I am not good enough. You don't make love to me as you did at the beginning." Once the first words had come out, the rest was easier. "You don't fuck me anymore like you do with the others. I feel that you are holding back, that I can't give you what the others do. Otherwise, I wouldn't mind them so much. In fact, if I was sure that I wouldn't lose you, that I count more than they do, then I wouldn't care about them at all." The next words showed the extent of the boy's distress, that had focused and taken that sexual act as a token and proof of the man's love. "I am so lost, I feel so alone." There was despair in those last words with an intensity that surprised Miles and wrenched his heart. He immediately took the boy in his arms and held him tight.

"Sven, I'm so sorry, you couldn't be more wrong. I love you. I don't want to hurt you, I respect you, and I want the best for you. You silly boy, I don't fuck you anymore because of that. I know you don't really like it, I've seen it each time we've done it. I want to make love to you, share those moments with you. The sex is important but for our mutual pleasure. This is as new to me as it is to you. I have learned a lot thanks to you. It was quite different before I came here and met you and Anthony. I was very much like Fisher thinking only of my own desires, my own needs. I saw you cry when we did it. I did not want to see that again. There are so many other ways we can express our love for each other. I am content, you are more than good enough, and you're the best thing that has happened to me."

Miles was dumbfounded. He had refrained from anal sex with Sven out of love and care, which the boy had taken for a lack of interest, believing he was worthless in the man's eyes and did not meet his expectations. The boy had such stamina, had showed such a strong will that Miles had never thought that he could also be so fragile, so unsure of himself and his capacities. He had said he felt lost, alone; his family loss of which he never talked must have hurt him deeply. The man's words were not enough. He wanted – needed – proof.

"I promise I'll never let you down, I'll never leave you. Not because I want to comfort you, but because you are the boy I have dreamed of all of my life."

"But there are others you dream about and that you can do it with." Sven was still in doubt it seemed, absurdly convinced of his own inadequacy, of the importance of fulfilling his lover's cravings, whatever the cost.

"You were the only one who came to me. That is worth a thousand fucks. I'll always remember that night."

"I was so scared, but so exited too."

"Trembling all over; I felt it, and when Walt almost caught us, how embarrassing it was!"

"That's true."

Miles still held the boy in his arms, the lovely boy's hair tickling his chin, his slight, fragile frame perfectly balanced against his own. He would have loved to possess him again but not at the price of his pain or displeasure. That was the dilemma; none of the options was satisfying. He reluctantly separated from the boy and holding the youthful face in his large hands looked at him eye to eye.

"Listen, Sven. If it is that important to you, let's try it one more time. But first let's agree that if I hurt you or it doesn't work to our mutual satisfaction, from now on, at least for a few months you'll not ask for it again. You should not put such importance on that simple act. I would love to share the experience with you again and again, I dreamed of it for days after that first wonderful time. I would probably have less of a need for substitutes, but I can do without too. What do you think?"

"Yes, I know it's stupid, but there's also more to it, feeling you inside is the best, the strongest sensation I ever had, even if it hurts. It feels like we are joined, we are one. I can't really explain it, but that's how it feels."

"I understand, I must say it is the best feeling for me too. I don't see why we could not get to achieve that in the best way. We can always try. In the end, it will be up to you. I'll let you decide." How strange, Miles would have never thought possible to be the one resisting, and somewhat coerced, to perform his favorite act of love.

"Let's do it now, then." Sven was pushing himself against the man's strong body. There was determination and longing in the act as if he wanted to merge, to be absorbed, to disappear inside the much larger frame.

Miles, again was at a loss, and wasn't really sure how to respond, how could he alleviate the boy's need for reassurance that went so deep, that took such extreme forms? Was sex and satisfying the boy's demand the best way to show him the authenticity of his feelings for him? That was the easiest for sure, the most agreeable, probably not the best but how could he resist that lure. He decided it would be a start, the first step of a more complex process.

He had never seen Sven in such need and excitement. He felt the young boy's erection pressing, rubbing against him and had his own desires soon awakened.

"Calm down, Sven, we have all the time we need. Let's make it our best time ever, and the first of many. Let's not rush it."

"Please do it now. Do it fast," was the boy's demand. He pulled off his tee shirt and then pulled down his shorts having his sneakers fall off in the same movement.

Miles pushed the boy back and laid him on the unmade bed under them, kissing him deep while one hand took care of the sticking cocklet and the other roamed over the unblemished body–his velvety skin.

"Do it, fast, I want you." The boy was lifting his legs, exposing himself one hand on each mound pushing them apart. He had never seen him like that. It was intimidating and exhilarating.

"No, we need to prepare you. That's what we said."

"I'm prepared, I'm always prepared, I've practiced…Anthony helped."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you were not interested anymore. I was afraid of your reaction, that you would reject me."

Miles held the boys legs up and put a finger to the tight hole. It went in easily; the boy had lubed himself some time before.

"You silly boy. When did you do it?"

"After showering, I try to always be ready, just in case."

"I would have seen it, felt it," reasoned Miles.

"It's been some time since we really had sex."

It had only been mostly cuddling with a suck or wank for quite some time, now that he thought about it.

"You're right, Sven, I'm sorry, I neglected you."

"You never touched me there." Sven had an expression that was part reproach, part expectation. "Please do it now. I want to feel you inside me."

Miles had nothing more to say. He had been full of words and emotions a moment before but now realized that it had been in vain. He had indeed been careless with the boy, he was learning that words were often not enough, the expression of his love had been lacking, and even if his intentions had been virtuous, he had once again been satisfied in pursuing his own needs with other boys, rather than those of the boy he said he loved.

He could not refuse the boy any longer.

"Well, let me show you my love the way you want it then."

Miles took off his slacks and underwear showing a splendid and throbbing erection. "There must be some lube around here." They always left some when he met here with Anthony.

"Let me do it. I want you now. Let's use spit," said Sven, pushing Miles down on the bed and jumping onto him, sixty-nine, engulfing the hard tool into his eager mouth.

"Ahhh, yes, that's good, you determined little devil." Miles was sure they were heading for a catastrophe: the boy's extreme eagerness, and his own strong desire and practices. It could not work. He should have pulled Sven's mouth off his cock and looked for real lube, checked that the boy was ready and as loose as could be. But it was too late; the boy's needs prevailed over any caution and were infectious to the man. As his blond head bobbed up and down and the saliva overflowed, Miles was playing with the waiting round butt, kneading the silky cheeks, circling the rosebud. He was now ready to enter and pleasure the boy. He tested it with two fingers that penetrated with some effort. The boy has practiced, he thought. Let's hope it was enough and that he is right! Can't wait anymore!

"We're done, Sven, pull off, and get in position. Let's do it face to face." He raised the boy's head and maneuvered him as a puppet placing him on his back, legs wide apart on the man's shoulders. As a last thought, Miles took off his shirt, watching the boy under him, who showed a wide hungry smile on his face with some sweet saliva still trickling from the corner of his mouth. Miles bent over and licked it up, then kissed his cute nose, his eyes, finally lingering on his mouth that he invaded with his tongue. His hands roamed all over the boy's legs and thighs going from one extremity to the next, playing with the child's feet and soles. His rock hard member was at the entrance, it did not need a hand for guidance, drawn by the intense heat waiting inside as a powered missile seeking its target.

"Please, now, do it now!" shouted Sven, famished for love, for the man's presence, his strength, his might.

"Here I come, love," said Miles, as he pushed forward, steadily, relentlessly. He had let go of the boy's mouth, had joined hands with him, and was holding them right above the child's head, leaving him helpless, defenseless of the man's assault. Pinned under him like a beautiful, entranced butterfly. He was intently watching the boy's expressions, following, deciphering any sign of pain or pleasure.

Sven was panting slightly, he had wished for it to happen and it was unfolding now, more or less, as he had expected. There was still the pain, some pain that made him shed a tear or two, but most of all there was that feeling of communion, of being one with the man that he had conquered, that he wanted for himself. The act of giving pleasure to the person he had chosen. That feeling of fulfillment of having vanquished the loneliness, of two individuals who became one in those moments, of being whole at last, to be safe, to be valuable. And soon there were the exquisite sensations of his own pleasure, the rubbing of the man's cock over that special spot, the movement of the invading thick member, somewhat painful at first that ended in an explosion of bliss.

Miles was seeing it all, the tears that misted the blue of the child's eyes, the frown with each thrust forward. The eyes that closed and opened, the 'O' his mouth formed; the small moans that escaped his ruby lips, the pink tongue that appeared from time to time searching for contact. There were so many expressions that passed and went, each to be interpreted, to be listed scrupulously, to be remembered. He was gaining assurance, the boy was tight, he still had not mastered how to relax, push, ease the man's entry, but he was learning and it was compensated by his will to perform as well as he could, his passion that overcame everything. He seemed handsomely rewarded. The smiles were winning over the frowns, the tears were gone, Miles had found the knob that would bring the boy to orgasm, he could feel it rubbing on his glans as he passed over it, again and again, mercilessly. Sven's eyes were rolling in their orbits: he was having his second dry orgasm. Miles knew he was to follow shortly after and accelerated the rhythm, pounding the young boy with all his might, a feat he had never dreamed possible, he thought, also, totally unreasonable. But he was too far-gone himself to hold back. He had let go of the boys hands and had moved his own, one to the boy's neck holding the head in place, facilitating deep kissing his mouth, the other on the boy's inner thigh where the skin was soft and delicate, its thumb grazing the small marbles in their sack and snapping at the very hard cocklet.

Sven was overwhelmed, his arms and hands fluttering here and there, trying at the same time to push away the invader, and also grabbing him to bring him even closer.

"It's too much, I can't stand it anymore!" he cried out, not in pain, but in elation. It was incredible; it was confusing, a mix of spasms, discomfort, and pleasure all together.

Miles was himself carried away with lust. He had raised the boy's ass to meet his pounding in an up and down movement, embedded to the hilt with each and every thrust, his own satisfaction at the core of the whole process, oblivious of the child's needs or demands.

"Whoa! That's the best one ever!" He wanted it to last forever, to keep the friction going, to stay on top of the welcoming orifice, reign over it. But it was too late, he felt a powerful orgasm mounting irresistibly, ready to explode and take everything with it. And it came, and he came.

"Sven, Sven, Svennn… Yesss." It lasted for close to a minute, "Yesss, I love you, boy."

Jet after jet of sperm was delivered deep into the child's bowels until he was spent. After one last thrust deep in the boy's hot canal he tipped over, bringing the boy with him to his side and then above him to lay on his chest. He wrapped his arms around his slight frame and then sliding one hand to the boy's buttocks touched the base of his cock, still semi-hard and throbbing, stuck in the loosened hole as if to make sure it had been real, that he wasn't dreaming of such pleasures.

Sven was silently breathing heavily, his head just reaching under the man's chin, the face turned and hidden by a generous mop of almost white hair.

Miles pushed the strands away, wanting to see how the child fared after this session of crazy lovemaking. The man had lost it completely. When he had prepared for a cautious, restrained intercourse, he had been caught in an irrepressible spell of lust.

"I'm sorry. How are you? Did I hurt you?" Miles prayed there had been no damage done. He felt no obvious gash or damage on the anus's tight lips, no blood on his fingers.

Then Sven answered, "I'm fine, I want more." He raised himself on his arms facing the man and trying to revive the spent but still turgid cock, started a to and fro movement, careful not to let it slip from his battered hole.

"No, Sven you've had enough, I've been too hard on you. Me and my stupid resolutions: what a farce!"

"Please, I want more, I loved it. It was great!" He had begun to kiss the man's chest, his hands caressing the rugged skin, tracing the man's taut muscles, the scars that had fascinated him so much at the swimming pool. He was noticing the slowly inflating cock moving up and down his chute. He was going to be filled again! He would be whole; he would be one with the man–again!

"Okay, okay, Sven, it's not reasonable, but as you wish. You are a greedy young man. Let's do it differently this time though. Miles wanted more caution, he had been lucky once; he did not want to take a second chance. The boy's ministrations had brought his member back to full life and shape. He disengaged from the boy who emitted a sigh of longing.

"Don't worry; it's coming back, very soon." There was little light but he used it to check visually as best as he could the state of the child's anus. It was open with some semen escaping and trickling down his thigh. He scooped it up with two fingers and smeared it on his glans it would serve as lube. He was as crazy as the boy was, he thought. He put the boy on his side facing away, lifted his right leg, pushing it up by a bony knee against his creamy chest, uncovering slightly the coveted target.

Sven threw a glance behind with an expectant, hungry look.

"Going in now, don't be impatient." With one arm around the boy's shoulders and the other holding his leg, Miles was in total control. He would be able to perfectly dose his thrusts, regulate the rhythm. That was a setup he liked and that did not require much effort, he could sustain it for as long as necessary.

He placed his glans against the anus exerting as little pressure as possible. He was going to tease the child and play a bit before giving him satisfaction, nibbling at an ear, kissing a cheek, one finger rubbing against a nipple bud. Soon the child was responding; his eagerness exacerbated.

"Please don't delay any more. I'm ready, please!"

"Do you love me, Sven?"

"Of course I love you." The voice was a mix of pleading and craving.

"And do you think I love you?"

"Yes, I do… Please now…"

"Are you sure now? Miles was at last pushing forward.

"I am sure, yes."

"Then you can have your reward." His cock went in without pause and quite easily. After the first round, the hole was still dilated and welcoming.

Sven gave a small grunt of satisfaction as he registered it. The slight pain was now welcome; it was the portent of pleasures to come. The man's right hand was going, back and forth, from his knee to his crotch, along the inner thigh in a feathery caress, and then came to rest on his curved tented pole, to finally seize it and stroke it vigorously.

Miles had decided that, from now on, this night would be dedicated to the boy's satisfaction. He would bring him to orgasm as many times as he would want to cope with. He was keeping a steady rhythm to his thrusts; he could last quite some time that way, until the boy cried, "Enough."

And so it went for a long, long time.

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