Chapter 16
Saving Barry

The filming was over and two days later Toby told me he had sent the raw footage to Denmark.

Funny that, one of my great grandfathers migrated from Denmark. I wanted to go visit someday but maybe it isn't such a good idea now. I didn't want to risk being recognised by anyone who watched that particular film of Toby's, no matter how little the risk might be.

As it was, I didn't have a lot of time to worry about anyone going to see Paz and me 'raping' Gavin, I'd made a promise to keep studying, not only as hard as I had up until then but even harder. I'd lost track of how many people I made the promise to but I wasn't going to let any one of them down.

Fortunately my plight of having to learn stuff that steadily increased in difficulty wasn't something I had to suffer all on my own; Mr. Thompson had, true to his word, spoken to my other masters and come up with a study plan for me.

"There is a bit of leeway built in," he told me when he explained the plan. "In case something will take longer for you to learn because of sickness or who knows what else. Of course, you may yet again take us all by surprise and learn much quicker than we predict. If so, we'll adjust the plan to that too. Your learning from now on will be much like an express freight train, there'll be no stopping until the very end of next year."

He looked me in the eyes for a short time before he carried on talking. "I've discussed extra tuition for you with your father and we've agreed that it would best if you return to school early. You'll arrive here on the twenty-fifth of August and we'll get started the very next day."

"Oh? Well, I guess that's fine, sir…" While I wasn't sure that it was fine with me missing a full week of my summer holidays, I wasn't about to argue against Dad's decision. If I act up, maybe he won't let me return at all. And a week of extra tuition will be worth it if it means I'll pass the CE.

"Will I be staying here at school all on my own at night then?" I asked. The idea was both frightening and exciting at the same time. I've gotten so used to Timothy's snoring by now that I almost can't fall asleep without hearing it.

"Matron will be here with you. She's delighted of finally having a young boy she can spoil and put to bed again. She'll likely sing one of her old lullabies while tucking you in."

"Seriously, sir?"

"Yes."

"Well… Eh, if that's what it takes…" I said dubiously. It won't be much fun being treated like a little kid again, but I guess I'll survive. It'll only be for a week after all…

"It is…" Mr. Thompson said and chuckled. "Not. No, Teddy. You will be returning to school early, yes, but Matron sure won't be tucking you in at night. Officially I'll be staying in the on-duty master's room and you will sleep in your dorm…"

"So you will tuck me in, sir…? Nah, wait a minute! I'm too old for that!"

"Is that so? I was quite looking forward to it."

"Oh? Well, if you really want to…" I acquiesced. "Well, I've no choice, do I sir? I must do what you tell me, you're the master and I'm just…"

"Shush!" Mr. Thompson cut me off. "When we're alone and not in a school setting like now, I'm not your master. You can always tell me no if I want to do something you won't."

"Okaaay…" I prolonged the last syllable of the word while I considered what I was just told. "Cool! You know what, sir? I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually really looking forward to returning to school after the summer. I can hardly wait to find out what it, y'know, sex, will be like with you."

"Unfortunately, that has to wait. Masters have the same unwritten rules as you: we can only have one boy at a time."

"I know. Martin's so darn lucky."

"Don't ever envy Martin!"

"Sorry," I blurted out.

"He's had a lot of bad things going for him; far worse than you. I'm only happy that I've been able to help him get through his grief a little easier."

"Like you'll be helping me?" I wistfully asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from Martin who I couldn't help but see as my nemesis, regardless of what might have happened to him.

"Sort of. Your circumstances are quite different from Martin but I think you too need someone who cares for you, someone who'll guide you…"

"And teach me lots more about sex," I quickly interjected.

"I hope to teach you what love is, Teddy, not sex. Sex is quite simple to master, love on the other hand is tricky."

"I've seen the way you look at Martin and how he looks at you in class, sir. Is that what it's like? Being in love?"

"In a moderated form, I suppose. I'll show you some proper loving by the end of August. Maybe, by the time the other lads arrive… Well, we'll just have to wait and see what happens, but we must keep up appearances; whenever we're in school, you will be the student and I the master, nothing more."

***

The next three weeks seemed to fly by and suddenly one day Toby approached me after lunch.

"Hi!" He grinned and flashed all of his front teeth at me. "I received a letter from my pen pal from you know where."

"Denmark?" I guessed.

"Yes."

"So it's for real then? I'm like loaded now?"

"Yeah. Three hundred exactly like I promised." He handed me a small envelope. "It's a cheque, you know what to do with it?"

"Sure, my dad's a bank manager," I smiled. "But I won't be putting this into my account in his bank. Someone's bound to tell him if I go deposit it there."

"Right. Well, don't do anything stupid like spending it all at once."

"I'd have to buy a flipping car to do that! Nah, I'll spend it wisely," I promised. "Oh, Toby?"

"Yeah?"

"Y'know, the lube I buy from you… Where do you get it from?"

"A shop in London. Why?"

"Well, I'll be returning here next year and I'd, well, y'know… I might need some then."

"They do mail orders too, I think. I'll write down the address for you."

"Thanks, Toby. And thank you for this too," I said and held up the envelope.

"You're welcome. Please, don't ever mention it again," he said and winked, then left me.

***

Fortunately, I didn't have to wait for long for the end of term and a week of holidays to arrive. Monday morning after Mum left for work, I ventured into the city again. I had the cheque for three hundred pounds in my inner pocket, but could only just afford the 25p coach ride.

Like I told Toby, I went to another bank and waited in line for the cashier.

"Good morning, Miss," I told her and flashed what I hoped looked like a casual smile; I was nervous like never before. "I'd like to start a new savings account with this cheque, please."

She took the cheque, checked the back of it and pushed it back across the counter to me.

"You forgot to sign it."

"Oh? Sorry," I said sheepishly and quickly scribbled my name where she indicated. "Would it be possible to make a withdrawal straight away, please?"

"The cheque will need to be cleared first," she informed in a patronising voice. "It normally happens overnight, but since this is an international cheque it'll take longer."

"How long will it take?" I asked. How am I going to get back home now? I've no money for the coach fare!

"Up to a week," the cashier told me indifferently.

"Can you do anything to make it quicker? Please, Miss? I spent my last money getting here today."

"I'm sorry, I can't."

"That's okay," I mumbled, though it wasn't okay at all. The only other bank I knew of was the one Dad managed; I had just over twenty seven pounds in my account there, but I hadn't brought my bank book as I hadn't planned going anywhere near Dad's bank, I wasn't supposed to be in the city at all that day.

I'll simply have to walk home. Heck, it's only eleven miles [c. 17.5 km], I can manage that for three hundred quid!

I handed the cashier my birth certificate and a letter, which I had carefully typed on a typewriter and signed with Mum's signature, faked of course, permitting me to start an account with the cheque. I left the bank with a brand new bank book, albeit one with no entries in it yet, and the cashier's casual remark of popping in later in the week to hear if the cheque had cleared.

Instead of going shopping for a pair of fashionable brogue shoes, as had been my original plan, I immediately started the long walk home; I only had a single 2p coin in my pocket, far from what I needed to buy the pair of shoes I wanted. And it's less than a tenth of what I need to ride the coach back home, I reminded myself. Ever since I met Deon and started studying maths with Mr. Thompson in prep, I had started doing all these small calculations whenever possible.

There was however no getting round it, unless I went to see Dad and somehow managed to sweet-talk him into taking me home, the only means of transportation I had were my own two feet clad in my old worn-out shoes. Fortunately an elderly couple pulled over after I had walked for only a mile [c. 1.6 km] and they most kindly offered me a lift which I readily accepted.

If Mum could see me now, she'd kill me! I told myself as I sat in the rear seat of a car belonging to someone I didn't know; she had on numerous occasions instructed me never to speak to strangers. Oh well, she'd also kill me if she knew I faked her signature, or that I started a new bank account or how I earned the money to do that, I shrugged.

I returned to school with almost twenty pounds in cash, I only spent 25p out of what I made from starring in Toby's porn film for the coach ride home from my second trip to the bank. Even though I really wanted and needed a new pair of shoes, I had managed to think twice before I went ahead and bought the expensive ones I had seen other kids wear on the way to and home from school.

I would never be able to explain how I'd got the money to pay for them. If I bought them and Dad ever found out, he would think I stole them and then, maybe, he'd spank me!

Even though I suppose it might sound like I was actively seeking out every possible reason for my father to lay his hands on me, I wasn't particularly interested in being smacked by him, or anyone else; the humiliating experience of having to submit to the caning in high school was still fresh in my memory. I was simply a young teenager who at the time thought I knew enough to make my own decisions without adult interference.

***

Back at Hartswood and about halfway through the last term, I went outside during the morning break like most of the other kids. It was Monday and a beautiful, warm early summer's morning; much too warm to stay inside, really. I sat all on my own in the relatively cool shade from the main building; I didn't want to suffer from yet another sunburn.

My skin's only just stopped peeling and itching from the first one of the year, I reminded myself.

It was a bittersweet moment, I never had a reason to mind my skin from getting burnt back in junior school and high school; I always kept to the shady parts when reading my books during the breaks back then, at least when the other kids let me.

And now all I really want is to be out in the sun with Deon and his friends watching James, Marcus and the others playing cricket. Not that I would ever push my luck playing cricket; I'd sooner tip over the wicket or hit myself with the bat rather than hitting the ball being bowled to me. I closed my eyes and listened to the happy voices of the other students wishing I was having fun with them.

Suddenly I heard muted sounds intermixing with the happy voices from the playing field. It took me a moment to realise the sounds came from the open windows above me; they came from the youngest kids' dorm corridor. At first I thought nothing of it as Toby had been selected for prefect duty at breakfast and it was his responsibility keeping things in order during the morning break, but the noises continued.

Then I heard a young strained voice coming from the window.

"Please! Leggo! you're hurting him!"

I guess Toby hasn't heard the commotion, I thought and went to investigate, though I wasn't meant to. It's not like I've got anything better to do. Mr. Halford's strict orders were limiting my book reading to only half an hour per day, it was one of his rules for letting me return in September and I made sure to abide by it by only reading in the evening just before lights out.

When I entered the out of bounds dorm corridor of the first year students, the young kid sounded increasingly distressed the closer I got to the dorm he was in. The door was shut, muting the noises from the roughhousing to a point where anyone in the corridor would have had to listen very carefully to hear them at all; I had only heard them in the first place, because I had sat outside right under the open windows.

I threw open the door and saw two young kids holding onto either end of a teddy bear in a tug of war. It clearly wasn't for fun as the larger of the two runts was smiling cruelly at the smaller boy. The younger, or at least the smaller of them, wasn't laughing; his cheeks were wet from crying.

"Noooo!" I heard the pained outburst from the smaller kid just when I walked into the dorm meaning to end their quarrel. The sound of something tearing was clearly perceptible over his quiet moan of great suffering.

"You!" I roared semi-quietly, keeping my voice firm and the older of the two small kids looked at me, first victoriously then aghast when he realised he was in trouble. "Let go of it, right the fuck now!"

Amazingly he did just that and the smaller of the two tumbled backwards onto the floor, clutching most of his bear to his chest; one of its hind legs fell to the floor in front of the scarcely bigger bully.

"Name?" I asked, trying to uphold my authority, but my voice suddenly and involuntarily changed pitch and the word came out as a high-pitched croak, catching me by surprise. I fucking hate when it does that!

"Charley," the small bully said in a trembling voice, then puffed out his chest and continued more confidently, "Charles Cumberley, the third!"

"Go outside, Charley," I said after clearing my throat, deliberately using the diminutive form of his name to demonstrate my power over him, happy for my voice having settled back into its usual pitch again.

"Now!" I added when he held his ground. The single word came out in a very deep baritone, making me sound like a drill sergeant.

Charley's confidence visibly crumbled before my eyes and he ran in a large half circle round me and quickly shut the door on his way out.

"Are you alright?" I asked the quietly crying boy, still lying on the floor and clutching most of his bear as tightly as he could to his chest.

"No," he sobbed. "Charley hurt Barry. He's du-du-dyying!"

"Let me see him," I said and got down on my knees next to him. "I'll be real gentle, I promise I won't hurt him."

Reluctantly he released the old tattered bear from his arms and allowed me to pick it up. I cradled it in my arms, as if it were a living baby and assessed the damages done to it. Its left hind leg had been ripped straight off; it was still lying on the floor where Charley had dropped it, three feet [c. 1 m] from us. The right leg was coming off too, only attached to the body by some very loose threads of a tattered string.

While I studied the bear closer, I could tell its legs had been held onto the bear's lower body by a loop of string going right through it.

Somehow the string was tied off before the fur was put in place on its body, I determined.

There was no other way it could have been done, at least none that I could tell from my very limited experience with toy fabrication. This wasn't some fluffy teddy bear, it was more like a metal wire frame with furry skin on top; a big bear doll with somewhat adjustable arms and legs.

"Is he dying?"

I looked at the young boy and realised that even with his cheeks wet from tears, and his eyes red and puffed up from crying, he was a very cute and adorable kid.

"No. I won't allow him to," I said reassuringly. "You see, Barry here is a very tough bear. Other bears might've died, but not old Barry here. He's hurting right now but he won't die. I'll make him all better."

"Are you a bear doctor?" He asked quizzically and leaned his head over in the cutest of ways imaginable as he looked at me with his intense deep baby blue eyes.

"I guess… Sort of." I shrugged after tearing my eyes off of his. "Well, I can't mend real, living bears, but I can mend Barry for you."

"Please help him," he gasped.

"I will," I promised and just then I heard the sound of the bell. "Shi-oot! I'll have to do it after classes… I'll bring him back before supper, okay?"

"Oh, thank you!"

"No sweat, kid. What's your name?" I asked while I reached out and picked up the bear's discarded leg.

"Stanley."

"Hello Stanley," I said and helped him up on his feet. "I'm Teddy, I'm in upper fourth… Now, uh, you should go wash your face and then straight to class, try not to worry about Barry. He'll be just fine, I promise."

"Okay."

***

Mending Barry the bear was harder than I thought it would be when I later sat at my desk after games class, the last class of the day; it was quite impossible to tie a length of string tight enough to keep the legs where they were meant to be. While my first try was partly successful, the two legs just flopped about at the hip. To pull the string taut enough, I would first have to cut a big hole in the bear's fur. I examined the back of the bear and quickly decided against this approach.

Then I had a look between his legs, right at his crotch I suppose, where the fur had been stitched in place when the bear was manufactured. Unfortunately, whomever had made the bear in the first place had glued the stitches too, making it impossible for me to cut open the stitches and sew it back together after attaching the legs back in place.

if I cut a hole, it would leave a big nasty scar. It will make it look like I cut off his stuff! Now, how the hell would I explain that to Stanley if he'd ask? 'Well, I had to cut off his dick and balls but his legs are fine now…' Yeah right! Obviously, there weren't any genitalia on the bear just the big drop of glue I had no way of removing without anyone noticing it.

"But, of course! I can use a rubber band instead of string," I quietly thought aloud and rummaged through my closet in search of one. If only I could bring it back home! I must have hundreds of rubber bands under my bed.

I didn't have anything at school that even slightly resembled the elasticated rubber band I needed for mending Stanley's bear. At least, that's what I thought until my eyes came across the underpants I used for catching my sperm whenever Marcus came to my bed at night.

The waistband in those is elasticated! I can use that for mending Stanley's bear.

I was just about to cut into the rather grubby underpants when I thought better of it; they weren't mine, they belonged to the school and if I weren't to return seven pairs of pants before I left to go on my shortened summer holidays I had no doubt in my mind that Matron would note it. Every week when I brought my clothes to her for washing, she most embarrassingly counted out each dirty item before handing over their clean replacements to me.

Instead of the grubby underpants, which by the way I had never taken to Matron for washing, I took one of the two pairs I had brought from home. With no further hesitation I cut a hole in the waistband and cut through the elasticated fabric inside.

It wasn't made from rubber, I learned when I tugged it free, but this only made it more suited for the task at hand. Quickly, since I was now seriously pressed for time, I tied one end of it to the small hook protruding from the left leg making up the bear's hip joint and fished the wide fabric all the way through the lower body of the bear. I pulled it as tight as I could and tied it to the hook on the other leg before letting go; with a small, yet very satisfying 'click' the right leg was pulled up snug to the bear's body.

"There we go, Barry, all better now. Hey, you can even sit again," I told the bear and rotated its legs and sat it on its furry bum on my desk.

"Aren't you a bit too old to be playing with stuffed animals?" Marcus asked and scared the heck out of me.

"Naw, man. Barry isn't my bear, he's Stanley's… Eh, one of the first year kids. I just finished mending it for him."

"Cool."

"Yeah. He's a cute little kid. I think he's being bullied a lot. I stopped a fight between him and eh… Charley, I think, one of the other kids in Hooke. Ah, yeah, Charley Cumberley… The third, even."

"You'd better get to prep. Don't worry about Stanley being bullied no more. I'll have a small chat with this Charley kid."

"That wasn't why… Ah, alright, but try not to get yourself into a lot trouble over this, please."

"I won't. What would they do to me anyway? Kick me out of here too?" Marcus asked and laughed. "I'd only be too happy if they did, the exams are all over anyway."

***

I ran all the way to Mr. Thompson's classroom, but I only entered the door three minutes after prep had started. He didn't look too pleased with me when I hurried to sit on the chair.

"Sorry, sir. I was fixing a bear and completely lost track of time."

His facial expression changed.

"Now, Teddy, I've heard some very bad excuses over time, but I haven't ever had a student tell me he was late because he was neutering a bear!" He said while trying hard not to chortle from laughter.

"Huh? … Ooh! No sir, I did not neuter him, I decided it would be better if I didn't… I mean I was mending a bear, not cutting off his… Eh, he lost his leg in a fight," I tried explaining.

"When you find yourself in a hole you should stop digging, Teddy. Why don't you open your exercise book and get started studying instead?"

"Yes, sir. But it is true, I'm not just making it up."

"If you say so. Let's see if we can't get your mind concentrating on algebra. You can save the storytelling for your English classes."

"Sir."

Mending Barry the Bear's legs was much easier than trying to solve the equations in the exercise book.

At first it was simple enough, especially since Deon taught me how to read the algebraic statements, like 'x + 4 = 7' was to be read like: I think of a number, add four to the number and I end up with seven. Then it's only a matter of finding out what number to subtract from seven to make four; this was easy enough. But that was junior school algebra, not high school, and certainly it wasn't prep school level.

The algebra I had to learn before sitting in Common Entrance was even more advanced, and I soon found myself faced with a tougher statement '3x + 2 = 8'.

Other kids can do this; I'm sure Deon could do it in his sleep, and so I can figure out how to do it too.

"I have three exes and then I add two and end up with eight, is that right, sir?" I asked while trying to comprehend the statement. Where's Deon when I need him?

"Almost. The x still represents an unknown number. You'll need to move the unknown number so it sits on its own on one side of the equality sign. Like this," he said and scribbled in my notebook:

3x +2 = 8

3x + 2 – 2 = 8 – 2

3x = 6

"Okay. So I do the same with the three and six then? Like this?"

3 – 3x = 6 – 3

X = 3

"No, that's incorrect," Mr. Thompson shook his head.

"It is?" I asked bewildered.

"Yes. When you come across a statement like this where a known number sits right next to an unknown, there's an implicit multiplication sign in between the two. So you should read it like this," he said and wrote in my notebook again.

3 • x + 2 = 8

"Why don't they write it like that then? It's quite impossible to know what they mean when they leave out something important as that."

"I suppose they did it to save on the amount of time required to write the statements on paper back in the day. It's a rule of thumb you'll simply need to remember."

"But I still have to isolate the unknown?"

"Yes. When you get better at algebra it might not be necessary, but for now, you should always do that."

"Okay," I said and started solving the equation from the start.

3x + 2 = 8

3 • x + 2 – 2 = 8 – 2

3 • x = 6

3 / 3 • x = 6 / 3

1 • x = 2

1 / 1 • x = 2 / 1

x = 2

"Is this correct, sir?" I asked five minutes later when I put down the pencil after having written the last number. It better be. It says so right there. X, the unknown, is two!

"Check your answer yourself: Swap out the unknown in the original equation with your result and then see if the equation is true."

I eagerly started doing just that.

3 • 2 + 2 = 8

3 • 4 = 8

12 = 8

"Oh! It isn't. Now it says twelve equals eight, which even I know is wrong."

"What? No, the answer is two. Ah, now I see where you went wrong. Here."

3 • 2 + 2 = 8

6 + 2 = 8

8 = 8

"We've been over this before, always do the multiplications and the divisions first, then the addition and subtraction after."

Man! There are so many bloody rules everywhere. It's like trying to understand Latin.

***

When I returned to the dorm after prep, Marcus approached me.

"I spoke to Charley the Cumbersome. He won't be messing with your boy no more, I told him what you'd do to him if he does."

"What exactly did you tell him that I would do to him?"

"That you'll twist his small balls until they pop and he'll never have any use for his little willy. That there'd be no Charles the fourth."

"I'd never do something like that to anyone, Marcus!"

"Well now, Charley doesn't know that, right? He fully believes you will, actually most of the little ones in Hooke heard me when I told him, and I guess everyone in first year will know by now, so your boy should be safe from harm."

"Thanks, I guess… But, eh, Stanley isn't my boy."

"You tell him that when you speak with him later."

"Wait a minute!" I had to think. Stanley was about the cutest kid I'd seen in school, one of the youngest too. If not the youngest and cutest I've seen so far! Why should he want to be my younger friend?

"Are you for real?" I asked. "Do you really think Stanley wants to be my younger friend?"

"He thinks of you as his heroic protector now. So, yeah, miracles do happen I reckon. How's that going to work out with Deon? You really can't have two younger friends, y'know."

What Marcus said was true. But, I had a thought and shared it with him.

"Stanley's only in first year now, so he couldn't be my younger friend until next year anyway. And with Deon in upper fourth by then… Oh, damn! I completely forgot to meet up with Deon before prep today! I was too busy mending Stanley's bear."

"Shit! Well you're on your own with Deon. I'm not going to bail you out of that, too."

"Oh well. I guess I'd better go see if I can find him before I return Stanley's bear. I hope he isn't too cross with me," I said and picked up Barry.

***

"That's neat," Deon told me after I explained how I had mended Barry the bear's legs. He held up the toy and had a closer look at its hips. "He's able to spread his legs quite a lot now."

"Dirty sod," I said and winked. Deon was holding the bear as if he was about to bum it. "Anyway, I'm sorry I couldn't meet up with you today."

"It's okay, but you'd better not make a habit of forgetting about me."

"You bet I won't."

Half term break was coming up, the last one of the year; one full week away from school and then one final half term of six weeks remained of the schoolyear. And then five long weeks of summer holidays. I wasn't looking forward to either of the breaks; I'd be away from all of my mates, meaning I most likely wouldn't be having any sex at all.

Unless I pick up wanking! Of course the holidays also meant I wouldn't be learning much either, though I wasn't about to completely abandon my studies while away from school. No, Deon, I sure won't forget you again. I'd love nothing more than bumming you right here and now.

"Eh, I'd better go return Barry to his rightful owner before you rip him a new bum hole," I said instead of turning my thoughts into action.

"Barry here or little Stanley?"

"Hey, don't even think of bumming Stanley. Marcus said he might be interested in me for his older friend. If he is, I don't want anyone ruining my chances, certainly not you!"

"Heh, you've nothing to fear from me. I'm really not into kids still playing with toys… No offense."

"Want to sit with me for supper?" I asked after checking the time. There was just enough time to go return Barry before I had to go to the refectory.

"I can't, I promised Simon we'd talk. See you in the toilets on Wednesday?"

"You bet, man!"

***

Deep breaths! Keep yourself under control, I told myself as I made my way towards the youngest boys' dormitories. I must make certain Stanley is interested in doing the things I want, before asking him if he wants to be my younger friend next year.

Stanley was a very cute and very sexy little boy; he was like the perfect visualisation of my innermost dream, at least physically. He was a full head shorter than me, or about 4 feet [122 cm] tall and his body still had a hint of puffiness to it. And, at least from what I'd been able to tell in the short amount of time we had talked, his body was practically hairless.

All of which won't matter none if he doesn't want to kiss and hug and all the other weird stuff I want. I can only have one younger friend next year. Maybe it was the very last chance I'd ever have for doing all of the perverted things I wanted with a proper, real young kid. I'll quiz him before I make up my mind!

First of all, however, Stanley needed to get his bear back which wasn't at all as straight forward as one might think; I couldn't just walk into his dorm. The youngest of the boys at Hartswood were somewhat isolated from the rest of us, I suppose it was to give them an easier start to life at the boarding school. Maybe it's to protect them from horny older boys too.

Whatever the reason, the junior kids had all of their meals in a small part of the refectory shielded off from the rest of us by low roll-away partitioning walls. Their dorms corridor was strictly off limits to those who didn't live there, unless someone had a very good reason for entering them, like being on prefect duty. I wonder how Marcus managed to get in…

I wasn't about to break the rules like Marcus, which is why I didn't just go straight into the Hooke dorm.

"Mr. Taylor?" I asked after knocking on the open door to the small study/bedroom of the dorm master. I didn't really know this master, only gathered that it was his name from the sign on the door.

"Yes?" I heard from the inside.

"Uh, excuse me sir, but I'd like to return this bear to Stanley…" I paused when I suddenly realised Stanley had never told me his full name. "Eh, Stanley in Hooke. I've mended it for him," I explained.

"So you must be Teddy," Mr. Taylor said when he emerged from his small en-suite bathroom wiping his hands in a towel.

"Yes sir. I'm Teddy Larsen."

"Right. I heard some of what happened this morning. I hope you're not planning on taking advantage of young Stanley."

"Pardon, sir?" I gasped. Did Stanley tell his dorm master that he wants me to be his older friend next year?

"I saw your notice about mending things for a price. I hope you won't be asking Stanley for money or favours, I wouldn't like that at all."

"Oh no, sir. Money was never on my mind when I offered to mend his bear, nor anything else," I said in accordance with the truth. "I only wanted to cheer him up a bit and I knew I'd be able to mend his bear quite easily."

"Okay. Wait here, I'll go fetch him for you. You'll only have a few minutes to talk, supper is almost ready."

"Thank you, sir."

***

I didn't have to wait for long, almost immediately Stanley came running full speed out of his dorm and only stopped right in front of me. Without saying anything I handed him his toy bear.

"You fixed him!" His face lit into a huge smile. "Oh, thank you!" He said and gripped me tight in a hug.

I just couldn't help it, I had to smell his hair while he hugged me.

"You're welcome, Stanley," I said, almost stoned from the fragrance of pure, clean boy my nose picked up. "I heard a small rumour of you maybe wanting to be my younger friend," I quickly added, keeping my voice very low so only he would hear me.

"Yeah," he whispered back and I felt his head bob up and down against my ribcage, confirming what Marcus had told me.

"We'll have to talk about that… Not now, though."

"Okay," he agreed and let go of me.

When's the best time for us to talk? I asked myself, We'd need to talk for a while so it would be better to wait until Sunday after chapel… Man! I almost forgot, there's no chapel on Sunday, I'll be at home then. We can't wait three long weeks to talk. I was certain I'd lose Stanley to someone else, if only he was given enough time to consider or someone else were to ask him if he'd be their younger friend.

"Would you be able to slip away and go to the sports pavilion in the morning break tomorrow without getting in trouble?" I asked him.

"Uh-huh."

"If you can't, that's okay too. We'll talk some other time."

"I will be there," he said, confidently.

"Alright! Well, you have Barry back now, please try to keep him safe from any further harm," I said when suddenly kids started crowding the corridor.

"Thanks again, Teddy."

I watched him run back to his dorm with his bear before I turned and quickly left the corridor.

Chapter 17
Enlightening the ignorant

The next morning, I waited by the entrance to the pavilion; anxiously I might add, as Mr. Farnham had taken forever to dismiss class for the morning break. I hoped Stanley hadn't come out here to find the pavilion deserted and then left again before I got there.

I should've seen him walking back if that's the case, I tried to calm myself. There he is! All's fine. Nothing to worry about at all.

Stanley ran as quickly as he could across the field and skidded to a halt right in front of me.

"Hi!" He gasped happily.

"Hi Stanley," I greeted him with a smile. "Come, let's go sit on the other side so no-one will see us while we talk."

He followed me around the pavilion and sat next to me when I sat.

"So, you want to be my younger friend?" I cut straight to the chase and emphasized the special expression. Everyone at Hartswood, at least the boys from year two and up, certainly knew what this meant.

"Uh-huh," he nodded. "I wanna be your friend. You're nice! You stopped Charley from hurting me and you fixed Barry!"

"Do you know what it means to be someone's younger friend?"

"Sorta. It's to do with sex and secret stuff!" He exclaimed.

"That's not all, but you're right, sex is part of it. So do you know anything about that? Sex, I mean."

"Not really," he admitted. "I only just turned nine."

"That's fine. I didn't know anything about sex until I was twelve. Would you like me to show you what it's all about?"

"Uh-huh, yeah!"

"I sure would like to be your older friend…"

"Cool!"

"But, eh… There's a catch, Stanley. You see, I can only have one younger friend. And this year, I already have one. I am looking for a younger friend for next year, but if I choose you, I wouldn't be able to ask someone else to be my friend if it won't work out between us," I tried to explain. "Also, other boys might not be interested in you after I leave school next year, so there's a risk for you as well. We can't just jump into it.

"So we should talk some before we make up our minds, sorta like getting to know each other first."

"Okay, sure. My name's Stanley Lloyd Hawkins, uhm, I like footy and playing with Barry… Uhm, my favourite food is s'ghetti and meatballs… I'm nine years old, I'm from Slough, my dad…"

"Do you like science?" I stopped him from listing too many things I really wasn't interested in knowing right then. There'll be plenty of time for all of that later, if he's the one.

"Oh, yeah! I love mixing stuff to see what it does…"

"I like that too! My younger friend now, Deon, he's going to start a science club next year, I'll be helping him with it. Eh, Deon's twelve and will be thirteen when school starts in September and I really want someone younger to be my special friend next year. Our tastes differ some… I mean, him and me like to do different stuff, y'know, sex stuff.

"See, I like to do things he thinks are…" I took a breath of air. "Weird! So, I'd like ask you some questions to see if you think something's too weird and disgusting to do with me."

"Like a quiz?"

"Yeah, exactly! A pop quiz and I want you to be completely honest, you can't say something just because you think it's what I want to hear."

"'K."

"Alright, here goes then. First question is, how would you feel about kissing with me?"

"On the lips?"

"Mm-hmm… And later with tongue. Other places on our bodies too."

"Might be fun?" He asked, mostly himself I think.

"It can be. It feels wickedly nice when you kiss someone that you really like."

"I like you."

"Cool. I'd want us to kiss our bums too… Well, you wouldn't have to kiss mine if you'd rather not, but I want to kiss yours."

"Okay."

"I mean, I'd want us to kiss the holes, not just the buttocks," I clarified, thinking Stanley had agreed far too quickly to understand.

"I already said okay!"

"Sorry, okay then. Oh, then there's all the normal sex stuff, like wanking and sucking, and bumming. Naturally, I'd want for us to do all that too."

"At the same time?"

"No, no, not all at once. And I wouldn't bum you the very first time we do something either, but it is something I want to do rather soon… As soon as possible, actually."

"What's that mean?"

"I'd like to stick my prick, eh, my stiff willy, into your bum hole and… Move it in and out for a time," I tried to explain the act of anal sex using terms he'd understand.

"I dunno. I never did anything with my bum…"

"I'd help you, I'll tell you what to do to make it feel as good as possible."

"It feels good?"

"Yeah, I think so. I really like bumming. Well, sure, it may hurt some or feel very weird the first couple of times, it'll take some time getting used to it, I guess, but then… It'll only grow on you. Well, that's my opinion anyway, I've been bummed a lot by kids with big pricks. Even bigger than mine."

Stanley hummed at the information. "Right… Well, we can at least try. But, what if it hurts too much?"

"I'll do my very best to make sure you'll never have to worry about that."

"Okay then. What else will we do?"

"I, eh… You must swear you'll never tell anyone first. It has got to be our secret."

"May God strike me down if I tell anyone."

"Oh my! I hope God would never do that. Okay, well, I'd like to suck your willy and… Eh, to have it in my mouth while you… Oh sheesh, this'll sound really strange… But, yeah, I want to do that, uh suck on it while you pee… In my mouth, I mean."

Stanley giggled with a confused look on his face, but he didn't look offended from what I had just told him. "Won't you get sick?" He finally asked.

"I don't think so. I've never tried it before but if it does, we'll stop right away," I promised. "See? I'm sorta like you, I really enjoy experimenting. And I want to experiment with my younger friend next year, do all sorts of stuff that other kids might think is really weird and disgusting, but no-one but me and my friend would ever know about it. Would you want to be my younger friend knowing that?"

"What if I want us to do something?"

"Then we'll do it," I committed myself without knowing what he wanted. He's only nine, he can't possibly come up with anything worse than bum kissing and peeing…

"Cool. I want us to be blood brothers then."

"Eh… What?"

"I want us to mix our blood together. So we'll always be brothers, forever and ever."

"Really? You mean that? You want us to mix our blood?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well…" I said and paused to think. Blood can't be any worse than sperm… Can it? "Alright then. I guess I've always kind of wanted a little brother."

"Cool! Then I want to be your little brother and your younger friend next year and do all sorts of disgusting stuff with you."

"All of it won't be disgusting I hope. But, okay, then I'll be your older brother and older friend next year. On this I solemnly swear!"

We were both startled by the sudden ringing from the chapel bell.

"We'd better go to class. I'll be here every morning break from now on… If it isn't raining."

"'K. I'll try to meet you here."

"You go first, I'll wait for a minute or two."

"See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, or the day after."

"Bye."

"Bye, Stanley."

He ran off and, much too quickly for my liking, he disappeared from my sight as he followed the curvature of the pavilion.

And that's how you get a younger friend, I smugly told myself. I heaved a sigh of relief. All I've got left now is telling the one in charge of the list for next year that I want to be put on it. I'll have to ask Toby if he knows who it is.

***

I met up with Stanley again the very next morning; this time he was waiting for me.

"I thought you wouldn't come," he informed.

"Sorry, Mr. Chandler wanted a word about the science club," I explained while I sat next to him. "I can't even remember what I told him, all I could think of was you. I ran all the way from class so we'd have as much time together as possible."

"You thought of me?" He absolutely beamed.

"'Course I think of you, more than anything else. And I ran here because I wouldn't miss the chance of being with my cute younger brother now, would I?"

"Thanks," he chirped shyly and looked down at his shoes, before he continued in a more subdued tone of voice. "I missed you too."

"Did Charley say anything to you?"

"Huh? Oh! Nah, he leaves me alone now."

"That's good. What's the matter then? Anyone else bothering you?"

"No. I just thought of what we talked about yesterday. Y'know, 'bout doing sex and disgusting things…"

"Yeah?" I cautiously asked. I'm not sure I like where this is going, not one bit!

"Yeah. I dunno if I want to… I've never thought about it before… Kissing and sucking and the other stuff… Bumming…"

Why didn't you tell me so, yesterday? I gave you lots of opportunities to say no, you little fu… But then I saw his face as he timidly looked up at me and immediately I remembered just how young he was.

"Oh. I'm sorry Stanley, I… I went a bit too fast… You've no clue about sex and then I just go and talk about all of the things I'd like for us to do. I never meant for us to jump right into doing all of it from the get go… We'll do it gradually, I mean, eh, like first we'd simply hold hands and maybe kiss some until we're all relaxed and enjoying ourselves.

"Then, and only then, would we go any further. We'll take it as slow as you need… Eh, maybe I'll get impatient at times and… Anyway if you don't feel ready for something then just tell me and we'll wait. I won't ever try to push you into anything you don't feel like doing and I'll try to explain what things will be like before…"

My voice trailed off when Stanley suddenly took my hand in his.

"Let's just hold hands for now," he told me. "'K?"

"Okay."

We sat in silence for a long moment, simply holding hands; Stanley's hand was warm and his grip tight. I leaned back against the side of the pavilion and gazed up into the sky above us, just enjoying the moment holding hands with the little cute boy.

"… ?" Stanley asked me a question, but I must have daydreamt as I only heard his voice, not his words.

"Sorry?"

"Can we try kissing?"

"Now? Stanley, we're not suppos…"

"Please. Only for a bit, I just want to see what it's like."

"Okay. But only a little, short kiss, we really shouldn't be kissing at all until September."

He turned his head, looked at me, and puckered up his lips.

Only a short kiss! We really shouldn't! I reminded myself and moved my head close to his. And our lips touched. Who cares about what we should or shouldn't.

It was only a short kiss, though it went on for longer than what would qualify for a simple peck. Even though we hadn't kissed with our mouths open Stanley quickly wiped his lips with the back of his hand when I gently pulled away from him.

"Not into kissing?" I asked.

"'Twas nice," he stated, contradicting his reaction to having kissed.

"Sure was," I agreed. "Nice enough to try it again?"

"Uh-huh."

"Cool! Only it has to wait for next time. I have to go put these books in my locker and get the ones for next class."

Unfortunately there was no next time with Stanley before the half term holidays arrived; Two days in a row it rained and when I waited for him by the pavilion all through the Friday morning break he never came.

***

I was still wide awake when Marcus slid into my bed next to me later that night before we'd leave school for the last half term break.

"Did your little boy pussy find someone better?" He quietly asked me. "You've looked miserable all day long."

"Don't ever call him that," I told him in pained whisper. "Stanley's not just some fuck toy! He's a lovely little boy…"

"Sorry! I know he is. He reminds me a bit of Gavin back when I met him, y'know?"

"Yeah?" I asked. The thought of Stanley maybe being as horny as Gavin was uplifting.

"Yeah. Now, turn around and I'll give you something else to think about for a while."

He did… And I forgave him for making that thoughtless remark about my younger friend to be. Hell, I even managed to forget about Stanley for a short time.

***

I returned to Hartswood after the holidays with one thought in mind: I wanted to kiss Stanley. I want to feel his soft lips on mine… I want to taste him again. I was downright horny too; I had managed to refrain from self-abuse all through the holidays, though it had been almost impossible, especially the last two days.

Regrettably, it wasn't until Monday morning that I saw my little friend again.

"Stanley!" I greeted him when he cautiously peeped around the rounded side of the pavilion.

"Aw," he stated displeased and sat next to me. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Bugger that…" I grinned. "I'm so happy to see you again."

"Want a cookie?" He asked and without waiting for my reply reached into his pocket. When he pulled his hand back out, he held two small cookies in it.

I took one of the slightly crumbled cookies and bit into it. "'S good," I said before stuffing the rest of it into my mouth.

"Mum always puts a tin of them in my bag when I go back to school. 'Tis the first time I actually get to taste them," Stanley said and took a small bite out of the remaining cookie.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Uh-huh," he nodded. "Charley saw the tin when we unpacked the first day an' he ate them all. Has ever since…"

"Why didn't you tell someone? Mr…" I stopped and tried to remember the name of Stanley's dorm master. "Mr. Tailor? Or another master, any one of them would've helped you, I'm sure."

"Charley said he'd take Barry and hurt him if I told on him. He tried to when you stopped him."

"Why did he try to steal Barry from you that day? What did he want from you?"

"Dunno," he sighed. "I went to use the toilet and then I came back and saw Charley with Barry and I told him to leave him alone, and then he just laughed and said I'd have to come get him myself if I wanted him back. And then he wouldn't let go and then you came…"

Stanley's eyes lit up. "And now no-one forces me to hand over my cookies and Barry can sleep in my bed all day long without worrying about anyone stealing him. He's very happy."

"Good."

"And I've made friends! 'Cuz I know someone in upper fourth, now the other kids in my dorm think I'm special. And I'm just as happy as Barry!"

I smiled at Stanley, recognizing the feeling. I felt special and happy too when David wanted to be friends with me. My smile faltered when I remembered the agonizing pain from the first time Paul forced his fat prick into my young tender bum. They only wanted to befriend me so they could bum me whenever they felt like. So is that why I want to be friends with Stanley now? So I can ram my prick into his little bum while he screams from pain?

I searched my soul while watching Stanley eat his cookie. He ate it as if he were a small squirrel, nibbling all around the edge of it, savouring each little crumble with very obvious and great delight.

No! I could never hurt Stanley like they hurt me, I decided. Then again, I was hardly the saint he thought me to be; I was a teenager with a huge appetite for sex. I'll try my hardest not to hurt him, but I will bum him as soon as he lets me. I could deny my desire no more than I could stop myself from breathing.

Stanley's lips tasted just like his Mum's cookies when I kissed him before we parted: sweet and highly addictive.

***

"It's all decided then?" Deon asked me when I met him later in the attic and told him that I had made up my mind.

"Yeah. Sorry, it's not that I don't like you…" I shrugged my shoulders.

"We'd still be friends right? You're the only one I can talk to about subjects that interest me."

"Sure. I feel the same way about you. Well, Stanley's into science too, but it's not the same with him."

"He's too young for serious conversations but not for fucking?"

My cheeks warmed in a blush before I had a chance to respond. "If you were in my shoes, you'd want the same," I tried.

Fortunately Deon decided to let it go. "Oh well, if it's what both of you want then I guess there's no harm done. I'll miss doing it with you, though."

"It isn't like it's the end of the year yet, there's still six weeks to go. And who knows what happens next year? I might still want to bum someone who knows he likes it."

Chapter 18
First year ending

Just before the end of my first year at Hartswood all of the upper fourth students were taken on a field trip to London and even though I'd be returning to the school for another year, I went with the rest of my year mates. Most of them wore jeans and tee shirts, not me though; I'd grown so used to wearing shorts by now that I wore them into the capitol. It was a very warm day and so I thought those few of us who wore shorts were the clever ones.

We started out at the Tower and for the first time in my life I saw where justice had been served for so long during history.

It's exactly like the books I read! I thought as I took in the sights. I could vividly imagine men being left to rot in the small cells or writhing in the last throes of their lives hanging from the gallows.

The next stop of our visit was the Science Museum. I could've spent days there, not a measly four hours, it was so interesting and so much fun. I managed to persuade Marcus and James into staying with me for another hour while the rest of our year mates left the museum to explore the city on their own, then they too had had enough.

Reluctantly I left the museum with them, we were under strict orders to stay in groups of no less than three.

Next year when I'll be visiting with Deon, I'll take him straight to the interesting stuff and not waste any time! I promised myself when I left the most exciting place in London I could imagine.

"So, where to from here?" I asked when we stood out in front of the museum. I had never been to the capitol before and though I had some ideas of what I wanted to see, the vast amount of possibilities made it quite impossible to decide what was most important.

"Me and James want to go see the HAC grounds. It's real close," Marcus promised and led us on an hour and fifteen minutes long quick march through the busy streets of London.

"You dragged me all the way across London on foot just to see a graveyard? We must've walked five miles!" I asked out of breath when we finally stopped at what unmistakably was the entrance to a burial grounds. An old one indeed and kind of fascinating in its own morbid way but it's still only a graveyard…

"No, dimwit! That is what we came here to see!" James said and pointed out a building.

It was a rugby club which both of my friends quickly agreed to join as soon as they were old enough for it. We had all of twenty minutes to spend and we never even got to go inside the building before we had to go meet up with the rest of the upper fourth students.

"Too bad they're closed now," Marcus said. "I really wanted to see the facilities and not just from the outside. Anyway, we'd better go back to the Tower now."

"Screw that! We're not walking all the way there!" I defiantly shot down Marcus' idea and flagged down a taxi.

I think both Marcus and James were secretly pleased with my idea, especially since I was the one paying the driver when he pulled into the curb very close to where our year mates were waiting. No-one saw us get out of the taxi and nobody asked us where we had been before we all boarded the coach and started the long and slow journey back to school.

***

The end of term and the schoolyear was fast approaching and for once I wasn't happy of that; it meant having to say goodbye to both James and Marcus. Our relationships had developed beyond just visiting each other's beds late in the evenings; I considered both of them very close friends of mine.

Sure, Marcus still had his 'rough Birmingham lad' attitude, but that was exactly what I liked about him; he knew what he wanted and, after he had gotten settled in, he wasn't afraid of reaching out and just grabbing it. I'm sure it was his brashness that rubbed off on me; it was like he injected a tiny bit of his courage along with his copious amount of sperm whenever he so dominantly fucked me in my own bed until he came deep inside my bum late at night.

If not for Marcus, I never would have mustered the courage to speak to Dad the way I did in his office.

James was almost the direct opposite of Marcus, always tender and loving in bed, though never effeminate; no, James was all boy and strong too, almost as physically tough as Marcus. His privates had finally started growing, albeit his balls seemed to grow at a much faster rate than his prick. I owed James a lot too, he taught me not only how to kiss properly, he taught me how to express my feelings; both verbally and silently.

James told me to go speak to Dad in his office! So it's also his doing that I'll be returning in September!

It seemed almost impossible for me to decide which one of the two I wanted to spend the last night at the school with. Then, of course, there was Deon and little Stanley, too, but they would be returning to Hartswood after the summer holidays and none of them were in my dorm; at least this meant I didn't have to include them in the equation that seemed dreadfully hard to solve.

We could do a threesome. I considered the idea for a while; it seemed like the perfect solution as it meant I wouldn't have to decide at all.

Nah, it would never work, I realised; Marcus and James were simply too different in bed. If they had both been aggressive and dominant, maybe it would've worked; I could have been in the middle, just like at home with David and Paul. But I just couldn't picture James being dominant in bed.

What if Marcus bums me first and then I spend the rest of the night with James in his bed? This seemed like the best compromise to me until I thought one step further ahead. No! I'd leak all over James' bed like I did last time! I'd have to screw a cork into my bum hole to prevent Marcus' sperm from seeping out.

I didn't have any corks and that was just as well; I sure wasn't interested in sticking anything into my bum after Marcus had finished with it. And even if somehow James shouldn't have minded a bit of seepage from my rear end, something I was most certain he would, it was by far too disgusting for me. Still I couldn't make up my mind and the last night before leaving school for the summer was steadily approaching.

***

"Guys. The schoolyear's almost over, soon we'll part ways and might never see each other again," I said and shuddered at hearing my own words; I'd given it a lot of thought but this was the first time I said it aloud.

Marcus and James were the only ones present in the dorm at the time and I seized the opportunity to finally find a solution to my problem.

"Eh, anyway," I hurried on in an attempt to do away with the depressing thought of never seeing my mates again. "I can't decide which one of you I want to spend the last night with."

"Why do you think we'd want to spend the last night with you?" Marcus asked.

"Yeah, you're being a bit full of yourself now aren't you?" James agreed.

"Wh-wh-what?" I stuttered. They were right though, I hadn't asked; I'd just assumed they'd both be interested. I've been worrying for so long for nothing then?

"Marcus will bum your brains out all night long Wednesday," James told me. "We flipped a coin and he lost."

"Oh? Yeah, well, okay I guess," I agreed bewildered. Wait a minute, they tossed a coin and the loser…? "Look, if you'd rather not spend the last night with me, you can just tell me. I don't want…"

"He's so full of shite, Teddy," Marcus explained with a grin. "We never talked about it, but he's right, I will be fucking your tight arse so you won't ever forget me."

"And Tuesday night, I want you to bum me so I won't forget you!" James told me and smiled.

***

The last week of school sits rather hazily in my mind: so many things happened, seemingly all at once.

Sunday morning after Chapel I met up with Stanley and we walked to the far end of the school premises and went just a bit beyond. Here, there was a small forest, which James had shown me as part of his tour on my first day at Hartswood, and because I had a hunch of other kids using it for meetings I took Stanley to the far edge of the forest.

"Here's a good spot," I said and sat on the trunk of a fallen tree.

Stanley had a quick look around before sitting next to me, then climbed on top of my lap, facing me.

"I don't want to go on summer hols," he whined as he hugged me. "Six weeks, that's like an eternity!"

"I know, but think of it this way: when we return you'll be in second year. Then we can spend a lot more time together. And we wouldn't have to keep our friendship secret anymore… Well, you shouldn't tell anyone exactly what it is we do together," I reminded him.

"'K."

"Also, and this is real important, I don't want you doing any sex stuff with anyone without asking me first. Some of it can really hurt a lot if it isn't done properly. If anyone tries to make you do stuff with them I want you to tell me right away and I'll make them stop."

"Would you really do what the big kid said? Squash their balls?"

"If anyone hurts you, I will hurt them back. Maybe I won't squash their balls, but I'll make them regret it all the same."

"Good," he said and kissed me. "I can't wait until school starts!"

"Me neither," I agreed. If only this year didn't have to end for the next to start!

***

The classes concluded Tuesday before lunch, there was no more learning, no more prep; the rest of the afternoon and all of Wednesday was for packing and cleaning out the dorms. Most of my year mates would be leaving after a reception on Thursday afternoon, while I was amongst the unlucky few of us who'd leave Friday morning along with the rest of the school's students; Mum hadn't been able to take time off from work to come fetch me any sooner.

"About time you lads got started mucking out the old pig sty," Mr. Harris told us when he popped in to check up on our progress just after three in the afternoon. The old dorm master was no friend of ours; he was able to spot a speck of dust from ten yards away and always checked every part of the room for tidiness. And I thought Dad was a nitpick! Fortunately Mr. Harris ignored the state of our lockers as long as the doors were shut.

"Much as I regret having to put a stop to your cleaning, it's time for you to go collect your trunks from storage," he informed before he was off to bother someone else.

The trunk storage was vastly different from the last time I'd been there. The projector was gone and the bed folded away and leaning against the far wall; gone were all the signs of any filming ever having taken place in that room, erased like it had never happened. I had made a lot of money in less than forty minutes of my life, far more than all I was ever given in pocket money and made from mending stuff, yet I was happy to see the evidence gone.

Though it really isn't, is it? Someone could be watching the film right now! I did away with the scary thought when I spotted the old battered trunk of Dad's and started the hard task of dragging it back up to the dorm.

"Ah! Perfect timing, Teddy!" Mr. Harris exclaimed when he saw me lumbering the trunk up the last step of the staircase. "Put your trunk next to your bed and meet me in the shower room."

I grumbled obscenities at the old master, albeit silently, as I hefted the trunk up and carried it the rest of the way into my dorm.

"Put on a pair of gloves and pay attention to what I do," Mr. Harris told me when I entered the shower room.

The indicated gloves were bright yellow and at least a couple of sizes too large for my hands, still I soon found myself on my knees scrubbing away at the tiles while trying to remove what seemed like years and years of built-up lime under the watchful eyes of Mr. Harris.

"That's it, put your back into it. Try not to get any of that stuff in your eyes, it'll sting quite a lot if you do."

Based on how it stinks, I wouldn't be surprised if it would melt my eye balls! I tried not to breathe too deeply, the lime remover boiled and sizzled with lots of little white bubbles while it attacked and broke down the lime.

"I'll send some more boys in to help you as they return, you'll be done in no time at all," Mr. Harris said and left me on my own to inhale the fumes I was certain were lethal.

Robert soon joined me, and then Justin, and the three of us spent the next hour scrubbing at the tiles. When we were done, the tiles didn't look much better than when we started but Mr. Harris thanked us just the same.

"Well done, lads. Take a break for tea now, then you can go back to cleaning your dorms."

I washed my hands, arms and face three times, and still I reeked from lime remover when I sat in the refectory enjoying a glass of icy cold orange juice. The refectory was almost deserted; I guess all the kids were busy with the cleaning of their dorms and only allowed to take breaks when it fit into the busy schedule laid out by the dorm masters.

Hey, there's Alex! I recognized the South African lad from lower fourth when he entered the refectory. I had heard the rumours of his eviction from his home country and how he and his family had to flee, leaving everything they owned behind.

I waited for him to pour a drink and take a slice of cake, then watched him as he sat at one of the tables, and that's when I made my move. I walked right up to the empty chair beside him and sat on it.

I would've loved nothing more than asking Alex if it was true he had an angry crowd chasing and wanting to kill him and his family but I kept my curiosity at bay. It wasn't why I sat next to him and greeted him casually; Toby had told me Alex would be the one in charge of next year's all-important 'list': the schedule dictating when and where the older boys could take their younger friends for a bit of private fun.

We small-talked for a few minutes, agreeing to the hardships of tidying up and cleaning before I made my move.

"I heard you'll be managing the list next year?" I asked while keeping my voice down.

He had a quick look around before he nodded.

"Ja, no-one else wanted to."

"Oh?" No-one had asked me, but then again, I wasn't on a sports team like Alex and in any case I probably wouldn't have had the time to spare. "Well, if it isn't too late, I'd like to ask for a couple of slots."

"Take your pick, you're the first to ask," he told me.

"I'd like the slots I had this year then, it's when the rugby and cricket teams practise and neither me nor my younger friend will be joining any of them. The attic on Monday and Thursdays and the toilets on Wednesdays from half three to half four?" I suggested, purposely extending the slot time by fifteen minutes and hoping Alex wouldn't object to it.

"Sure. Who'll be your younger friend?"

"I doubt you know who he is. Stanley Hawkins, he's in Hooke this year."

"Hooke? He's a first year?"

"Eh, yeah? He'll be in second year after the summer and we haven't actually done anything yet so I'm not breaking any rules… 'Sides, it was he who asked if I wanted to be his friend and I made sure he knows what that means before I agreed to it. So, all's fine, right?"

"I'm not sure, you're so much older than him…"

"Yeah, I know. I didn't much like that at first either," I said and lied through my teeth; that Stanley was so much younger than me was a real turn-on. "But, I found out he's a really bright kid and he was bullied like I was, so I know what he went through and can help him get past that. Also, he's into science like me, so we have lots to talk about. It isn't for the sex only…"

"You'll answer to Mr. Halford and all of the rugby team if you do anything to hurt him," Alex cautioned.

"I know, which is why it won't ever come to that. I'll treat him like he's my younger brother, y'know, help him and stuff."

"Ja, alright then. But, I will be watching you and I'll have a chat with Stanley from time to time to check up on him."

"No problem," I agreed to his terms. I'll just have to make sure Stanley only tells you some of what we do.

***

"I don't know what to do without you," I told James when I momentarily stopped kissing his soft lips. We had been kissing non-stop, gently and lovingly, for twenty minutes or so.

"You'll have Stanley next year, and Deon… And lots more boys, probably. You won't have time to think about me…"

"So not true! I won't forget you, never! You were the first to kiss me, you taught me that sex is so much better when it isn't just about sticking part A into part B. No, I won't ever forget you, I'll send you letters all the time."

"Don't make promises you can't keep. Hugh said the same and he never wrote me."

"I'm not Hugh, you'll see for yourself."

"Can we please not talk about the future? Let's just live for the moment…"

"You're right," I agreed and sighed. "What do you feel like doing?"

"You mentioned sticking part A into something. Can we do that?"

"Eh, sure," I half-heartedly agreed, then changed my mind. "I hoped you wanted us to keep kissing."

"We can do both, y'know?"

"We can?"

"Yeah! Watch," he said and turned to lay on his back. He pulled up his legs, grabbed his thighs just above his knees and pulled himself into a ball. "Push the pillow in under me."

I did as he bid and found myself sitting on my knees in front of James.

"Ah!" I exclaimed when he let go of his thighs and spread his knees wider. "Eh, isn't it uncomfortable lying like that?"

"Some… So come, get on top of me. I'll wrap my legs around you when you've put him in my bum."

"Like this? Without lube? That's gonna hurt both of us, man!"

"Oh shoot! Well, hurry up, put some in me and then bum me!"

Quickly I first lubed up his bum hole, then my prick and pushed it slowly inside of him. His bum hole was in the perfect position; my prick head never missed its target, the stalk didn't bend at all, my prick only slid right into the warmer than hot tightness of his innards. As soon as the head was in, James wrapped his legs around mine and used them to pull me even quicker and closer to him; the whole of my prick rapidly went inside of him while he embraced me like I had never been before.

"Ooh!" We cried out in unison when my prick speared further into him than it ever had previously.

Suddenly a light came on.

"Would you two fucking stop making so much noise?" Timothy tiredly said from his bed.

"Go back to sleep, chubby!" Marcus' voice boomed from the other end of the room.

"I was sleeping until the damn queers woke me!"

"Take that back!" Marcus abruptly sat up in his bed.

Meanwhile, I had frozen into position in James' bed; my prick still deeply imbedded in my friend. Now what?

"Like hell I will. Ever since you and that other queer started here, it's been impossible to get any sleep! Every fucking night it's 'ooh, ooh, orrh', and squeaking beds!"

"Just because no-one's interested in your blubber arse and your teeny tiny winky doesn't mean the rest of us can't have any fun!" James joined the discussion.

"I'm not queer!"

"Sure you aren't… Why did you try to hook up with Simon two years ago then?" James asked and laughed.

"I… Fuck! Just keep the bloody noise down or I'll complain to Mr. Harris in the morning."

"Do that and even your mum won't be able to recognise you when she picks you up on Thursday!" Marcus threatened from his bed. "Me and the rest of the rugby team will make sure of that."

Timothy switched off his bed lamp and the room went completely dark, seemingly even darker than before.

"Yeah, that's what I thought!" James exclaimed triumphantly. "Now, where were we?" He asked more quietly before he reached up and pulled my head closer to his. "Oh yeah, right here," he mumbled and kissed me again.

"James?" I asked when I managed to break off the kiss. "Maybe it's better if we'd…"

"Bah, we're not stopping because of Timothy. It's our last night," he reminded me and used his lower legs to get my hips moving again. "Ooh, come on, fuck me!"

Somehow he managed to reclaim all of my attention and I soon forgot we weren't alone in the dorm. Regardless of what Timothy had told us about keeping the noise down, James' bed started creaking even more than it normally did; the new position meant I had to use more strength to keep the momentum going.

Timothy never said a word to Mr. Harris, or if he did, nothing came out of it.

The next night, the very last where all of us were at the school, Marcus joined me in my bed.

"Let's see if we can't keep Timothy from getting any sleep at all tonight, shall we?" He asked as he tugged my underpants down my legs.

"Okay," I agreed with a mischievous grin.

***

Oh boy! I'm glad I'm not going home until tomorrow, I'd never survive the trip today, I thought when I finally willed myself to get out of bed Thursday morning. It's after ten! I missed breakfast!

The dorm and the corridor was deserted, something I was only happy for as it meant I could limp to the toilets without anyone seeing the state I was in.

I never thought he meant he'd bum me all night long! But that was exactly what Marcus meant, and what he had done. He had fucked my bum in any number of ways: me sitting on top of him, bouncing like a mad cowboy on a wild bronco and next with me laying on my back like James. I had knelt on the bed while Marcus stood on the floor and with a firm hold around my hips had pummelled my body into deliriousness.

Only around five in the morning had Marcus finally wore himself out and left me alone in my bed. I was by then far too tired, and far too satisfied, having experienced at least one too many orgasms to get out of bed and go to the toilet to empty my bum of his sperm before falling into an exhausted sleep. It was all I could do to put on the two pairs of underpants I had within reach; the one pair already fairly wet from my own sperm and the other that Marcus had slipped from my body at around eleven.

Six hours! It was hard to fathom that Marcus had been able to keep on going for so long, David and Paul had never had the stamina to fuck me for such a prolonged time; not even when they had taken turns fucking me during the Easter holidays the year before.

I winced when I tugged down the two pairs of underpants; by now they looked more like a soiled nappy than briefs for a teenager. Fortunately they had done their job remarkably well, even though they hadn't been designed for containing spillage of any sort. Not as much as this anyway.

Instead of wasting time trying to rinse the underpants out under the tap in one of the washbasins, I stuck them in the toilet and flushed while I held onto the waistband of them. It took more than one flush to get them somewhat clean, and then another ten minutes of scrubbing with soap and a nailbrush before I was satisfied with them.

"Oh, my!" Matron stated when she held up the two pairs of still very damp underpants. "Please inform your mother that she should have told me of your bedwetting problems at the beginning of the year."

"Eh, I'm not…"

"I can only assume your mattress will need replacing too now," she said and binned the two pairs of underpants I had so carefully washed. "Oh well, it isn't your fault and remember, bedwetting is something most people grow out of, it isn't something that will haunt you forever."

"Yes, Matron," I muttered, my cheeks hot from embarrassment. Fortunately I was alone with Matron so none of my school mates would think I wet my bed at night. And, it's probably better she thinks I wet my pants rather than what really happened to them!

***

It turned out I hadn't really missed much from sleeping in; everyone were free to do what they wanted and no-one seemed interested in doing anything, except for complaining about having nothing to do. Our dorms were clean, the trunks of the happy upper fourthers who'd be going home today were lined up outside the main building. My trunk was still sitting next to my bed, filled to the brim with books; most I had brought with me to school and a few new ones for me to study while I was on holidays.

Twenty minutes past eleven we were told to assemble in the main hall; Mr. Chambers wanted to give a little speech before the parents would arrive for the end of school reception.

Rather than walking to the main hall with the rest of my year mates, I lingered back and when no-one looked my way I quickly made a decision.

Mr. Chambers will probably give the same boring speech next year, I told myself and since I would be there to hear it then, I hid away until the last of my year mates entered the hall and the doors were shut.

When all was clear I went back to my dorm, surprisingly my bed wasn't the only that hadn't been stripped to the bare mattress; Owen's bed was neatly made, the covers stretched to form a perfect diagonal on top of the mattress.

I didn't give it much thought before I lay on my bed for a quick nap.

***

"Hey," I heard and woke to find Owen looking at me.

"Hi," I yawned and looked at my wristwatch, then had another look. This can't be right! Surely I haven't slept for almost four hours?

"You weren't at the reception," he stated.

"No, I slept right through it," I admitted. "My mum won't fetch me until tomorrow."

"My parents couldn't come today either."

"Has everyone left now?"

"Yes."

"Damn," I quietly swore. I never got James' address! Now I can't write him!

"Before he left James asked me to give you this," Owen said and held out a folded up piece of paper.

"Thanks man!"

I hid the letter from James under my pillow and left for the attic; while most of the upper fourth students had left school, the rest of the students were still around, including Deon. It was Thursday, almost a quarter to four and the attic was ours for the next forty five minutes according to the list.

Heck, we could stay there until supper! I realised. There's no prep today and everyone else on the list has already left for the summer!

"Oh boy, it sure is hot up here," Deon exclaimed when he walked up the stairs and saw me waiting for him.

"Yeah. Should we go find somewhere outside instead?"

"Nah, it's really hot out too and there are critters!"

"Big horrid spiders and ginormous 'squitoes waiting in swarms to suck you bone-dry in seconds," I teased.

"Hey, the mosquitoes around here are aggressive!" Deon protested and pulled his polo shirt up over his head.

"We'd better stay here then, cuz I'm not sharing your tasty sperm with any bug."

"They're not after my sperm, silly," he laughed. "They want my blood!"

"Like vampires… That's okay, I don't much like the taste of blood anyway," I said and helped Deon unzip his shorts.

"Aren't you getting naked too?"

"Not until after I've sucked you dry. We've got plenty of time, there's no prep, remember?"

Truth be told, I wasn't desperate for an orgasm right then, but I could tell Deon was; his prick strained against his briefs and I skimmed them down his legs.

"I think your prick has grown some," I noted.

"Really?"

"Yeah, 'bout half an inch [c. 1 cm] I'd say."

"Cool!"

"Soon it'll be even bigger than mine. Maybe you ought to be bumming me next year."

"No thanks. Between Simon and Patrick I think I've more than enough bums for my prick."

"Well, one can always dream… Nah, I don't care how big your cock grows, I'd bum you anyhow. Long as your bum cheeks won't start to sag!" I ended my statement with a small slap to his rear before I sucked his prick into my mouth.

***

Mum arrived at one o'clock Friday. Rather than immediately starting the long journey home, she accepted Mr. Halfords invitation of joining him in his office for a quick cup of tea and a talk.

"I really should be out there mingling with the other students and their parents," he said. "But, I wanted to spare Teddy from embarrassment."

And that's precisely what he carried on with: he embarrassed me to no end while he praised me for my work ethics and my constant search for knowledge.

"His marks may not be up there yet, but I assure you, Mrs. Larsen, this time next year, they will be."

"That's delightful news," Mum said. "Oh, please extend my gratitude to Mr. Thompson, it was only yesterday my husband told me of his extraordinary offer, dare I say sacrifice, of tutoring Teddy for a full week by the end of the summer. I wonder if he understands what he has gotten himself into."

"Mr. Thompson is one of our newest teachers, young and eager to pass knowledge on to boys willing to learn, boys like Teddy. It is unusual, yes, but not unheard of and I'm positive the experience will prove beneficial to them both."

Chapter 19
Upsetting news and making choices

We left Hartswood a bit after two o'clock in the afternoon. Mum stubbornly tried to keep a conversation going while we were on the road, but my thoughts kept spinning around the letter from James and I only answered her questions when she loudly repeated them.

"Mum?" I suddenly asked, cutting her off in midsentence.

"Yes?"

"Can I go visit one of my friends from school during the holidays?"

"May I go… Not 'can I go'… You'd think an expensive school like Hartswood Priory would have taught you that by now."

"May I go visit one of my friends from school?" I stubbornly asked again. She's deliberately avoiding my question! Waaaait for it… Here it comes…"

"I don't know, Teddy. You will have to ask your father."

Bingo!

"Why does he always get to say what I can… What I may or not? You're my parent too, right?"

"He is your father, Teddy, by choice, and you will respect him as such," Mum said heatedly.

"What do you mean by 'choice'?"

My limited understanding of human reproduction was that a man would spurt his sperm into a woman and around nine months later a baby would pop out. There was no choice involved; either you had sex and made a baby, or you didn't have sex and thus didn't end up with a baby. Well, unless you had sex with another boy or man.

"Oh, to hell with it!" Mum cried out and pulled over so quickly I was almost forced out of the seat.

She braked so hard I felt my body briefly lose connection with the seat and had to put my hands on the dashboard in front of me to prevent myself from going head first through the windshield.

"Mum!" I shrieked in panic. I'd never seen her like this.

The car made one final forwards jolt and came to a complete stop when the engine cut out. The silence that followed was more frightening than the events that had led up to it.

"Mum?" I asked quietly. "Are you alright?"

Her face was ashen grey, her knuckles white from the way she clutched the steering wheel with her hands.

"Mum?!"

"Sorry," she finally mumbled and took a deep breath of air. "Sorry, Teddy. I never meant for you to find out this way."

"Find out about what? What just happened?" I asked, not daring to voice my inner fears. Are you sick? Are you going to die?

"Peter isn't your father."

"What?"

"I mean, he is your father, but he didn't…"

"He is my Dad, but he did not…?"

"Please! You must understand it was a different time, even if it's only fifteen years ago."

"I don't get it, Mum. What…?"

"Just, please tell me you understand that the times were different."

"Okay, yes, yes, the times were different. But what does that…"

"Shush, please. Don't speak, just listen. If you interrupt, I might not be able to tell you."

"Okay."

"Before I met your father… Before I met Peter, I was seeing another man. We dated. We had so many things in common, we danced… Oh, but how we danced at night. Every night. Brian, he… Well, Brian was an American. We talked, often. About how I would travel back with him to America. The states, Teddy! Ah, but I was only a stupid girl, blinded by his perfect white teeth when he smiled and made his false promises.

"How we'd fly to America, first to Paris for our honeymoon, then…" Mum stopped talking for a time then suddenly she exclaimed, "Well, it never happened, did it now, Teddy?"

I wasn't sure what to say. I had never heard Mum talk like this. She seemed to be talking to herself, even when she said my name.

"No, of course it didn't!" Mum fiercely answered her question. "He left as soon as my stomach started growing. As soon as his seed had been planted and… Well, it wasn't all bad, was it? No, not at all. It was you, Teddy, growing inside of me. Oh, my father was upset. He was royally pissed off, as you would put it. But, giving you up for adoption was never a possibility. I wouldn't allow it.

"I loved you, Teddy. Right from the very first moment. Right from when I realised you were growing inside of me."

Eew! I pulled a face at the thought of being inside of Mum. Still, the story was both fascinating and quite disturbing. Dad isn't Dad! But who is he then?

I had never thought of him in any other way than him being my Dad. Now, he was all of a sudden a stranger to me.

"No, I wouldn't have let you go, never! But I couldn't bring you up on my own. Now perhaps, not then. Unmarried mothers, oh you wouldn't believe what they were called back then."

I do know. Things hadn't changed that much in fifteen years. Unmarried mothers were still frowned upon, and though I hadn't given it a whole lot of thought, I had heard the names used to describe them.

"Like other girls in my circumstances back then, I was shipped off to London, so I wouldn't bring shame upon the family. You never knew your grandfather, Teddy, and you should consider yourself lucky for that, but trust me, if anyone knew what shame was all about, he would be the one. The things he did…"

I kept silent while I thought of what I knew about shame. Quite a lot, I concluded.

"At any rate, I met Peter in London. He knew from the start I was carrying you, how could he not? I was huge, a whale lumbering about with five pounds in my belly. He saw past that, danced with me, slowly, so we wouldn't upset you. You'd kick me, you know? Hard! Whenever you were upset with something, I knew I'd be getting a kick to my kidneys, or worse, to my bladder. Often you'd nearly make me wet myself."

"I'm sorry," I blurted out.

"Oh, Teddy! Don't feel sorry, you weren't even born then. I didn't know you were a boy at the time, I thought maybe you were practising your ballet moves. Well, in the end, just three weeks before you were born, Peter proposed to me. He bailed me out… Bailed us out.

"You sure wouldn't be going to Hartswood Priory if not for Peter, your father… Life would've been a lot harder for the both of us."

Is that what he meant when he told me things could be a lot worse?

"Peter is your father. So, he wasn't there from the very start, but he is still here now. And that's why you will continue to think of him as your father and show him the same kind of respect he deserves.

"If you won't, well, you wouldn't have a father at all. Do you understand?" She asked, finally looking directly at me.

"Yes, Mum." I warily nodded, though I didn't understand, not at all.

At last Mum started the car and drove us the rest of the way home without further incident. We didn't speak for the rest of the journey; I guess both of us had a lot to think of.

***

All I wished for was going to James' so that I'd be with him for the week he invited me to his house for. Suddenly I wished I had never asked Mum. What did I have to do that for anyway? I knew she'd tell me to ask Dad… Stepdad… Peter… It was weird thinking of the man I had always thought was my father as being a Peter.

Wait a minute, if Peter isn't my father, then my great-great-something grandfather wasn't from Denmark! I'm not part Danish, I must be part American!

I wasn't sure if that had any significance or not, but it was something to think about. I wondered about my real father, my biological father, what he might be like. If he'd be better or worse than the one who had chosen to become my father. It was no use, of course, I'd never know for certain. All I knew of my biological father were the tidbits divulged by Mum in her strange way while we sat in the car.

He left Mum, I reminded myself. He left me! Before he even knew who I was. All he wanted was to have a jolly good time… A summer's flirt… No, an autumn's flirt! And when he made Mum pregnant he just upped and left.

Would he have liked me, had he only stuck around for long enough getting to know me?

Suddenly I wanted nothing more than asking the man who had been part of my creation if he would've married Mum if only he knew who I was now, who I had become, despite of him leaving us. This was futile, too. America, The United States, was a large country, much larger than England, even bigger than the whole of the United Kingdom combined; and all I knew of my biological father was his first name.

Brian! I had never thought much about that name, now I resented it. I hated the name as much as the American who ran off from me and Mum when we most needed him.

"I'll never run from anything again!" I swore to myself. And I'll never make a promise I can't keep, ever!

***

It took me a couple of days adjusting to the new reality forced upon me. It took me far longer than that to fully come to terms with it, but I decided to start talking to Peter again after the weekend. I realised he wasn't my biological father, yet I knew Mum was right, I'd never find my real father; Peter was the only father I'd ever have. It isn't like anyone else is volunteering for the job.

"Sir," I asked Peter just as we were finishing supper Tuesday evening; I couldn't find it in me to address him as 'Dad' yet. "Would it be alright with you if I were to spend a week over the summer with one of my friends from school? It wouldn't cost you anything."

"You've never told me anything about making friends before," he said and folded up the newspaper he was reading. Astonishingly, he turned his full attention to me. "Tell me more about this friend of yours, please."

"Eh, his name is James Corless. He's thirteen and was in my dorm."

"Come now, Teddy. I've been waiting nearly ten years for you to announce you'd made friends with someone. You need to do better than that."

Just how much do you want to know? How well he kisses and how ravishing a feeling it is for me to bum him? I thought and felt my cheeks blush. I cleared my throat while trying to clear my mind and think of something that I could tell about James. Something that isn't personal!

"Well, he lives in Brighton with his Mum and Dad. He's into sports, he's very good at cricket and rugby, he played blindside flanker on the school team."

"I see. How did he do on his exams?"

"He did really well in the Common Entrance. He was lucky and got a half sponsorship to a public school."

"As you will too, I should hope."

"I already gave you my word, sir," I offered in a small voice. "I promised that I wouldn't fail the exams, I never claimed I'd do well."

"That was before Mr. Thompson offered tutoring you for a week. I think it's time we adjusted our expectations, don't you agree?"

"Sir?"

"I think you should aim for doing better than simply not failing. If I were to let you stay with your friend for a week this summer, I think you should aim for becoming an above-average student next year," he made his counter offer.

"Above average?"

"Yes, Teddy. I'm not expecting you getting top marks in your classes, not with your school history. I want for you to be in the top fifty percent. All of this rock-bottom nonsense has to end at some point. That's my condition for you going to visit James, take it or leave it."

I wouldn't, could not, commit myself to his terms just then.

***

"Hi Teddy. Didn't see you at reception. About to leave directly for Spain now. If you want, come visit this summer. Parents fine with you staying for a week. Have your mum ring mine. James." I read the short, dog-eared letter from James again when I lay in my bed that night; it was almost like reading a telegram from olden times. I must've read and re-read his letter a thousand times; the piece of paper was coming apart from being unfolded and folded again.

James you've no idea just how much I'd like to go see you, but I don't know if I can. If only you knew what Dad wants from me in return, you wouldn't have invited me…

I suppose I could have simply agreed to Dad's terms and then come up with an excuse if I wouldn't end up in the top half of the students, but I was changing; I was maturing. If I promise to do something, then I must do everything I possibly can to uphold my end of the bargain. My real loser father backed out of a promise, I won't be like him! I expect others to do their very best when they promise me something, and if I am not prepared to do that then why should they?

Actually, contrary to what Peter/Dad said, I wasn't at rock-bottom; four of my year mates had gotten worse year marks than me, and none of them passed the CE. But, my marks were only a few points better than the best of the four, and for getting up in between the top half, I would have to work miracles. I'd have to study day and night for sure! Or bribe the masters!

***

"'Hi James,'" I said aloud while writing a reply to his note. "'I'm sorry'… No!" I ripped the page out of my notebook and balled it up in my fist before throwing it towards the bin; just like most of my many previous attempts, the paper ball missed its target.

"'Dear James'," I started anew. "'I was very happy', no, 'I was thrilled'… ARH! Why does it have to be so God damn hard to write that I can't visit him?"

The balled up piece of paper joined the others on the floor near the bin.

"'James, I would want nothing more than spending seven days – and nights – with you. However'…"

This time the piece of paper actually ended up in the bin.

I can't tell him no. I might regret it when I'm back in school and have to bust my arse studying, still I have to go visit him. I must tell him proper goodbye, face to face, I can't do it in a letter!

***

James was smiling when he greeted me at the coach station and of course I was happy to see him too. We hugged, not worried about our mums, and more than a handful of strangers, were there to see it happen.

"I wasn't sure you'd get my note," he whispered and hugged me tighter.

"Owen gave it to me. I'm sorry I wasn't at the reception, I slept from it all."

"It was a real drag… You didn't miss much."

Mum finished exchanging pleasantries with Mrs Corless, told me to behave myself and boarded the bus to go back home; our car was in the shop, I'm sure she would never have taken public transportation otherwise.

I sat with James in the leather rear seat of their luxurious and likely very expensive car for the short remainder of the journey to their house; this too was much fancier than mine, clearly the Corless family were very well off and, unlike Dad, they weren't afraid of showing off the fact they were much better off than most people.

James' bedroom was double the size of mine; his bed too. I couldn't help but stop and stare at it in wonder. It's bigger than Mum and Dad's bed!

"If you don't want us sharing the bed, we can move the mattresses apart," he explained. "Mum and Dad won't mind either way, they still think I'm like eight years old and that I only tumble with friends on the bed."

"I like it just the way it is now," I managed to say. "It must be twice as wide as the beds at school!"

"Yeah, it is. It took me some time getting used to, I don't know how many times I've nearly fallen out of bed at Hartswood!"

"You pushed me out of your bed once."

"No! When?"

"You did! The first night you invited me to stay in your bed. You were asleep when you turned over and pushed me right onto the floor!"

James laughed. "Sorry, man! I'd never deliberately kick you out of my bed."

"Yeah, I know you didn't do it on purpose. That's why I never said anything about it to you."

I shifted my attention from James' double-sized bed to the rest of his room. One corner of it was obviously devoted to his sporting and recreational activities; there were two cricket bats, a ball, and an assortment of fishing rods and reels. A rugby ball and a football, both made from leather, made up the rest of the sports items.

He had books in his room too; some novels, but mostly nonfiction: history, archaeology and design were some of the topics he liked to read. He had a decent sized desk with a very comfy looking swivel chair and a designer desk lamp that looked like it might be better suited for use in an operating theatre.

"Did you remember your swimming trunks?" James asked while I studied the layout and the contents of his room.

"Yes," I nodded; Mum had dragged me along to shop for a pair of them; since I didn't live near the beach and we never travelled much, I never really had any use for that sort of stuff.

"Cool. Then we can hang out in the pool every day, not all of the time though, Mum goes for a swim just before breakfast and no-one's allowed in the garden or the pool when she's using it. She doesn't want anyone to see her fat…"

"Eh, yeah, sure… The pool's not too deep is it? I, er… I've never been in one before."

"It's only five feet [c. 1.5 m] at the deepest end. Don't worry, I'd never allow you to drown," he assured me, and his tone of voice changed when he continued, "I like you far too much for that."

James quickly popped his head out in the corridor and shut the door. "Cor! I still can't believe you're actually here, alone with me in my room!" He exclaimed brightly and with a sudden coy look on his face he hugged me again.

"I almost decided not to come. But I'm glad I'm here now."

"I asked Xander first," he admitted. "His mum wouldn't allow him to come here."

So I was only his contingency plan, the lesser choice, but that was fine with me. If I had the choice, who would I rather visit? Deon? Marcus? Stanley? Nah, probably not Stanley. Mr Thompson then? No, not him either, I'll be seeing him in only three weeks, anyway.

James talked me into getting naked with him in his room right there and then, granted that wasn't hard for him; it was much harder for him to convince me putting on the skimpy green bathing suit Mum had bought for me.

With folded up towels carried strategically in front of us, we made our way to the ground level of the massive country house.

"We're going swimming," James called out to his mum.

"Please don't shout at me, James. And try to keep the water where it belongs," Mrs Corless called out, just as loudly as her son. "In the pool, not all over the floor."

***

The swimming pool James led me to might not have been the largest pool of them all, it was quite small and, fortunately for me, it looked rather shallow. The best part was however that the entire pool area was indoors, enclosed by walls mostly made up from full-height windows and covered by a see-through roof. There were horizontal curtains in the ceiling that could be closed to protect the bathers from the sun, in case it was needed.

No need for that today, I told myself when I heard heavy rain start pummelling down on the roof.

The whole experience was gobsmacking; I was standing waist deep in the warm chlorinated water of the enclosed pool while God, or whomever, sent tons of cold water cascading onto the roof with a ruckus that greatly overpowered the one that took place when James flung himself like he was a human cannonball into the water.

James resurfaced next to me and with a fling of his head he made sure the inner side of the nearby windows got their fair share of water too, as if they hadn't had enough already from the way he had propelled himself into the pool.

"Man! You drenched me!" I cried out and shovelled a handful of water right into his face, thereby initiating a prolonged water fight that only ended a few seconds after Mrs Corless opened the door into the house.

"Boys, it's a thunderstorm, you'd better…" She cautioned us and immediately shrieked when she was struck by water.

"James Connor Corless!" She roared, immediately subduing her son and me. "Get out of the pool this second before a lightning strikes down!"

"Yes, Mum," James sheepishly said and went for the side of the pool while I waddled towards the ladder.

"That was fun," James grinned after his mum left us to towel off on our own. "Too bad about the storm, but least it means we won't have to wipe down the windows. Mum won't let us out there with all the lightning going on."

We took turns showering in his bathroom and then sat with his parents for dinner.

"What does your father do for a living, Teddy?" Mr Corless asked.

I wanted to tell him the truth; that I had no clue since I never knew my real father, but I guess he was only being kind in that strange way parents were being kind to friends of their sons, and I told him Dad was a bank manager. This didn't impress him much, certainly not when he prompted for and was told the name of the bank.

"I can't say I've ever heard about it. Must be a rather small bank, eh? Now, I'm sure your father is a decent man, but I wouldn't trust him with any of my money!"

***

"Dad's such a wanker," James apologised when we were finally alone in his room. The dinner had seemed to drag on endlessly while his father dominated the conversation in the dining room. "He rates people solely based on the money they own."

"Never mind your dad, I didn't come to visit him," I quietly said, then grinned as I thought of another meaning for the word he had so accurately used to describe his dad. "I hope you aren't going to be a wanker tonight!"

"Huh?"

"Well, it wouldn't be much fun if you'd only play with yourself in bed, would it? Might as well sleep in separate beds then."

"Ah!" James laughed when he finally grasped what I was talking about. "No way, man! I'm not, we're… Uh, we're sharing!"

"Can we…? I mean, your parents, they won't check in on us?"

"After we've gotten changed into pyjamas, we'll go tell them goodnight. Long as we're down for breakfast in the morning they won't disturb us."

"Pyjamas?" I asked, not having brought any. Hell, I haven't slept in one since… Forever? Not since I was eight or nine years old anyway.

"I'll lend you one of mine," he offered. "I think I still have an old one you'll fit. Oh, we won't be wearing them to bed, it's just for show," he said when he saw the look on my face.

"I told you Mum still thinks of me as her little boy. I see no reason for changing that, not yet," he tried explaining.

"Well, alright then." I was unconvinced that this plan of his would work for any length of time. He was growing up quickly; already he was a good two inches [c. 5cm] taller than me.

I nearly balked at drinking the glass of warm milk, but the cookies were tasty, when we later joined his parents in the library wearing two-piece pyjamas with housecoats on top.

***

"Can we please stop pretending we're six year-olds now?" I asked when we were back in his room and I wiped the milk moustache off my upper lip with the back of my hand. Okay, it was fun for a moment, but I'm about ready for a different kind of fun.

"Yeah. Did you bring any lube?"

"I got a fresh tube of it. My last one."

"Oh? What will you do in September then? Toby won't be there to sell you any."

"I asked him where he buys it. I got the address for the shop in London and I will mail them a cheque," I explained. "I've saved a bit of money." It was a white lie I told James, but I knew I'd never be able to tell him how I had made the money.

"Clever. Right, I'll sit on the loo after we've brushed our teeth. We wouldn't want any accidents to happen."

"No," I agreed. "But, James? If you go for a poo now, it'll end up in a mess anyway." This was what my experience on the matter told me. Pooing had to be done hours before bum play, or you might as well not do it.

"No, it won't. I'll make sure of that," he claimed and after I had a quick pee and brushed my teeth, he locked himself inside his bathroom. "It'll take a few, you might want to put on some music and find something to read," I heard his muffled advice through the door.

After giving up on his super complicated stereo sound system, I went to check out his books and when I couldn't find any that sounded interesting to me, I dug into my bag and brought out my homework instead.

***

James only unlocked his door after almost thirty minutes had passed; he entered his bedroom wearing just his underpants.

"Are you still up for it now?" I asked, fully understanding and rather expecting that he would say no. He just spent thirty minutes trying to poo! His hole must be in all kinds of agony now.

"Yeah. Sorry for taking so long, I wanted to make certain nothing is left inside. I want our first night back together to be nothing short of perfect," he said and put a record on his record player then powered on the sound system.

"You're making me nervous… I don't know if I can live up to your expectations," I spoke softly as the music started playing; I recognised the song, though I had no idea what it was about. "Volare, ooh-ooh," I couldn't help but hum along when James turned the volume up a little higher.

"Let's find out, eh? Unless you'd rather keep on studying?"

"My schoolwork will still be here in the morning," I decided. "Let's see if your bum is as clean as you claim."

"It had better be!"

We spent the rest of the song lying in his bed and kissing. The song and the passionate kissing helped me relax, then the next song came on, and the next, and my prick grew harder and harder.

***

His bum hole looked fine when I had a quick look before slowly digging one of my fingers inside of it. My finger came back out clean. Well, sure, there's a sheen of lube on it but that's it, nothing else, I noted and transferred more lube from the tube via the tip of my finger into James' remarkably clean bum.

It wasn't long until I could replace my finger for my prick; this was one of my reasons for visiting James and I took my sweet time pushing it inside of him, while enjoying the slippery tightness of his bum.

"You have got to tell me your secret," I said after I carefully pulled my prick back out of him and studied it before just as carefully pushing it back inside of him; it was every bit as clean as my finger.

"Not now!" He hissed.

"After…" I agreed. "Later… Certainly not now."

Dream, dream, dream… I knew this song too; it might be old, but Mum liked listening to the radio while I read my books when I was younger. When I feel blue in the night…

I stopped listening to the music and focused on what I was doing; this was no dream, James lay on his front and I on top of him. He looked back over his shoulder and I managed to kiss him for a short time before the discomfort forced me to straighten out my back again.

"Lie on your back," I told him as I got up on my knees. "Let's do it like we did that night at school."

James made no reply, only hurried to rearrange his body; within seconds he was propped up on the top of his back, his legs and toned bum lifted clear off the mattress.

The same instant I pushed back inside, a new song started playing.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now," I promised and started moving my hips in time with the beat of 'At the hop!'

While fortunately the song wasn't very long, it left both of us winded when it ended; my hormones urged me on, but instead I decided it was time for a cuddle with James.

"Mmm," he breathed into my ear and hugged me tight with all of his limbs. "That was fantastic! Did you do it?"

"No," I untangled myself a bit so I could look him in the eyes. "There's no rush."

There really wasn't any need for rushing. When I at last moved my hips and started bumming my friend again, I did so slowly; only gradually did I build up the pace. It wasn't until long after his record player had started making the annoying repetitive "thwomp… thwomp… thwomp…" noise of the needle skipping in and out of the last track that I finally gave James all I had left in me.

James didn't bother getting out of bed to switch off his expensive stereo sound system, he simply reached one arm over the side of his bed and pulled the plug from the socket and he was back in my arms again; this time for sleeping without any risk of either of us falling from his large bed.

Chapter 20
Learning new tricks

"This is what you used?" I asked and held up the item James claimed to having spent so much time with the night before. It was a dark red rubber squeeze ball with a long and somewhat flexible spout on it. "You filled this with water and put it in your bum and…?"

"Yes! Oh, don't give me that look, it's quite normal… Well, when you're constipated anyway. Didn't your mum ever give you enemas when you were little?"

"Hah! No, not that I remember and I'm sure I would never forget if she had pumped my arse full of water with one of these!"

"Oh. Anyway, that's what I used to clean my bum last night. You seemed to rather enjoy it."

"No I didn't enjoy it… I loved it. Where can I get one of these? Would you… Eh, can you show me how to use it?"

While the whole idea of deliberately squirting my bum full of water was kind of revolting, I could see the benefit from doing so. There'd be no more need for timing my bowel movements to when I expect to be bummed. And if I can get Stanley to use it then there'd be no risk involved in kissing and doing stuff to his little bum…

"I can go tell Mum you're having trouble pooing…"

"No! Sheesh, man! I don't want your mum… Oy, don't trick me like that!"

James laughed. "You bought it! Hah! Well, I suppose I could show you, but…"

"But…?"

"Yeah, if I do that your bum will be all clean and…"

"It'll be clean, yes, and?"

"It would be a shame if it was cleaned for no reason, don't you agree?"

"So you'd like to…?" I kind of knew what James wanted. I just want him to say it!

"I want to bum you."

"That's all?"

"That's all? It would be my first time!"

"Oh! So you never did it with Xander?"

"No… We did all the other stuff, but we never got round to, y'know, I never bummed him."

"Did he bum you?"

"Nah," James shook his head. "His was too small."

"But you want to bum me?"

"Only if you want me to."

"Sure… I mean why not? Your prick should be plenty large enough for it by now."

"It sure was little when we started…"

"That was like half a year ago. It looks like you've dipped it in fertilizer or something. You're growing hairs and everything."

"So are you!"

"Huh?"

"You've got hairs too."

"Where?" I asked puzzled. There weren't any the last time I checked!

"Next to your prick, drop your shorts, I'll show you."

There were hairs sprouting, all four of them; they were about an inch and a half [c. 4cm] long and I couldn't understand why I hadn't noticed them myself. They're right there. And they're kind of dark! They shouldn't be so hard to see!

"Won't be long now until you'll look like someone lit a fire between your legs," James casually noted.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they're fiery red," he explained, having a better vantage point than me.

"Red?"

"Yeah. Come now, it can't be such a big surprise. You're ginger after all."

"I'm not a redhead! Mum told m…" I stopped myself. Mum had promised me primary school would be fun and I'd make lots of friends there. She lied then. And she lied about Dad. Why shouldn't she lie about me being ginger? While technically she hadn't lied to me about Dad, she had never told me about him not being my real father, but that wasn't my main concern right now.

I can't be ginger! I won't have it, I will not allow it!

"Well, your prick sure seems to think you are, it's growing red, almost orange hair. Your skin is pale and full of freckles. What more proof do you need to accept the fact you're ginger? I like gingers…"

"That's because you're not one yourself. Everyone hates gingers."

"There's not much you can do about it though, it's in your genes. Didn't you hear Mr. Chandler explain how the genes from our mother and father decides what we'll end up looking like?"

"Yeah, I heard." I sighed. "Fuck! I already have so much to worry about and now my bloody pubic hair has to come out red."

"Who cares what colour your pubic hair is? It isn't like everyone will see it."

No, only everyone in upper fourth! They'll laugh their arses off. Deon most of all, probably.

Angrily I plucked all four offending hairs right out of my groin at the same time; it stung, but only for a matter of seconds.

"Now you're back to being bald again," James informed me.

"I'd rather be bald forever than having red pubic hair."

"Now that they've finally started growing there'll be no stopping them. Maybe you should bleach them?"

"Thanks James. That's really not helping," I said and pulled my underwear and shorts back up in place.

***

For a time I managed to forget about the offending colour of my pubic hair; at the breakfast table Mrs Corless informed us of her plans for the morning. They didn't include us; she'd be going to get her hair done.

"You'll behave yourselves while I'm away," she warned us. "Teddy, you're older than James, I want you to keep him in check."

"Yes, Mrs Corless," I politely gave her my word. James had a mischievous look on his face when I glanced at him. Well, I'll do everything I can, but it's his house!

"She'll be gone for hours!" James stated full of glee as soon as his mum shut the door on her way out and dragged me up the stairs. "Come, I'll show you how to use the enema bulb; it's dead simple."

The process involved filling the bulb with soapy water, squirting this into my bum and making sure to keep the bulb compressed while removing it; then do it all over again another time.

"There. Now we wait."

"How long will it take?" I asked. It wasn't uncomfortable having the soapy water in my bum as such, James had instructed me to make sure the water was temperate; it was more the thought of having soapy water in my bum that was kind of upsetting to me.

"Not long, you'll know when it's time."

It took less than five minutes, then I had to sit on the loo; James refilled the bulb while I expelled the water and other disgusting stuff from my bum.

"Again?" I asked when he held out the bulb for me.

"Yeah, you should do it at least twice. Three times is better."

The whole ordeal was over in fifteen minutes and James showed me how to rinse out the bulb with soap and water; he sucked up the soapy water and squeezed it back out into the sink.

"Do that every time you've used it and leave it with the nozzle pointing down. That way all the water will drain from it."

"Right."

"And now your rectum is clean. It's only the last bit of your bowels you've cleaned out."

"I know what the rectum is, it's where the prostate is. How long will it stay clean?"

"Uhm, I don't know exactly how long… An hour, two perhaps? Might be more if you poo just before you do it."

"Okay," I said and stored the information in my mind.

"Let's get in the pool now."

"Wait… I thought you wanted to bum me?"

"I do… In the pool."

Now, that's a pretty far out idea! I told myself, however no matter how wild it sounded to me, I quickly agreed.

***

We went into the pool naked, but just in case James' mum would return sooner than we expected, we placed our swim wear and towels within easy reach.

"How's this gonna work?" I asked James when I noticed the writing on the tube of KY jelly. "It's water-based."

"Yeah, so?"

"My bum's like surrounded by water now! The lube will wash away, it'll dilute and do no good. You're not sticking him," I pointed at his erect prick, "inside this," indicating my rear end, "without lubrication."

James' prick was somewhat smaller than mine, yet I doubted it was small enough for him to bum me painlessly without lube and while I wanted to feel him inside of me, I wasn't interested in it being a painful experience.

"Oh…" I could tell just from looking at him that he was deep in thought, until suddenly his face lit up. "I know! Lift yourself up over the edge, lie with your upper body out of the pool and your legs in it. Your bum will be out of the water then. I'll wipe it down and lube you up and…"

"Yeah, I get the picture," I said. "It just might work."

It did, sort of; James just couldn't find enough leverage to work his prick in and out while hanging onto me, his hands kept slipping, and when he finally grabbed me by my shoulders both of us slipped back into the pool. Miraculously, his prick was still in my bum when I felt the soles of my feet touch the bottom.

"Just do it like this," I told him and leaned forwards with him still hanging onto my back.

"You'll be fine?"

"Yes, just don't push me under."

James made sure my head was above water, his hands never left my shoulders while he bummed me.

I was only fucked once in the pool, in fact James only ever fucked me that one time, he much preferred that I bummed him; even so, I decided it was better to do that in the comforts of his huge bed.

***

The one week I spent with James was like a holiday by itself; his mum took us to museums and art galleries, the latter was, I guess, mostly for her being able to gossip with her lady friends, while James and I pretended to be awestricken by the pieces of art on display.

It was like an understanding between mum and son; whenever we were in the city or around his dad, James would be a right little darling. While at home and alone, he was allowed to be the boy I knew he was, using language that he had picked up from Marcus at school. Not to mention, the language he used when in bed with me, but that was more body language than spoken, and of course, his mum wasn't there to see or hear us then.

It was, I suppose, the perfect way to practise for the week I was going to be spending with Mr Thompson at school; which is where Mum returned me one week before the holidays officially ended.

"Mind what Mr Thompson tells you, Teddy," she told me for the tenth time that day, then addressed the master. "You have my permission to discipline him any way you see fit if he disobeys you."

"I'm sure there will be no need for that, Mrs Larsen," Mr Thompson carefully dismissed her carte blanche of punishing me. "There was no trouble with Teddy last year and I can't see why that would change this year."

"Well, you haven't had the pleasure of minding him for a full week. He isn't a little boy any longer, he's almost fourteen now and if he's anything like my older brother was at that age he will soon rebel."

"He won't have the time for a rebellion, I'll keep him far too busy studying. I will take good care of him, Mrs Larsen."

"I trust you will. Now, Teddy, I'll come pick you up at the midterm holidays as per usual."

"Yes, Mum. Enjoy the drive home," I said without making a fuss about wanting to take the train in the hope she'd take the hint and leave.

Fortunately she did just that after demanding I'd kiss her cheek.

Mr Thompson singlehandedly carried my trunk up to the upper fourth dorm corridor, then surprised me when he walked past Rutherford.

"You're in Newton this year. It's a smaller dorm housing only four students," he explained when he opened the door to the dorm. I already knew this, but of course, Mr. Thompson wouldn't know that. "Hopefully it'll keep the distractions to your studies to a minimum. Well, that was the general idea for putting you in this dorm, anyway."

"Okay. Do you know who my dorm mates will be, sir?"

"I don't know exactly who, only that all of them are from last year's lower fourth. You won't have to worry about newcomers. Right, pick a bed and start unpacking while I find a set of linen. Perhaps you should open a window or two before you do anything else."

***

I busied myself with the tasks Mr. Thompson had laid out for me and picked the bed furthest from the door. The trunk wasn't nearly as full as it was the first time I had arrived at Hartswood; since I knew I wouldn't have a lot of time for reading, I had packed only eight books. Obviously, I had brought my toolkit and other necessities like my toilet bag and a couple of sets of underwear and socks.

Mr. Thompson returned with the linen and helped me make my new bed.

"Perfect. Fetch your coat and your toothbrush," he told me when we were done. "You won't be sleeping here tonight."

"Cool, I'll be sleeping at yours?"

"That's right," he confirmed and before I had a chance to ask if it was only for the one night, he carried on. "At least tonight. Let's see how it goes and if we both want to, maybe you can stay over longer. I'd like to avoid sleeping in the dorm master's room for as long as possible, my back doesn't agree with the bed in there."

"Cor!" I burst out delighted, using one of James' favourite expressions. "I've never been to any of the master's flats."

"Well, don't get too excited yet, it isn't much I can call home. Bring the books you've been studying over the holidays and your notebooks."

Anything's better than this! I quickly decided, collected the books from my closet, and shut the door to the dorm.

Mr Thompson's apartment was in the gatehouse. "It's the penthouse suite," he jokingly explained after we had traversed the stairs, and unlocked the door.

I was trying to behave all grownup and sensible but my boyish curiosity was in serious competition with my self-discipline; I wanted to immediately explore every room in the small flat. The long time I had spent on the roads being locked inside a car with Mum as my sole company probably had something to do with my level of restlessness too.

"You have a telly!" I bubbled, positively surprised that a teacher would own such a marvellous piece of entertainment and the revelation completely did away with any discipline I had. "Can I switch it on?" I asked, already heading for it.

"Not so fast there, Teddy. Work before pleasure, remember?"

"Aw, sir! Really? It's Sunday."

"And tomorrow will be Monday, soon it'll be Christmas, then Easter and before you know of it, you'll be sitting in the gymnasium trying to figure out a problem you can't find the answer to because you've spent time watching some silly TV show."

"Spoilsport!"

"You can thank me later. Now, come sit here and show me what you've accomplished during the holidays. We'll start with your favourite subject, maths."

Ugh! I had one last longing look at the alluring TV set, it was so much more interesting to me than the thought of sweating over maths, but Mr Thompson sat at a desk just wide enough for the two of us, waiting for me to sit next to him.

***

"Sir, I can't do this, it's too complicated," I whined after having tried in vain to calculate the length of one leg of a triangle. "Pitygator-what's-his-name was a sadist! I'm sure he only came up with this to inflict as much misery on students as possible!"

"Let's see. Pythagoras was a clever mathematician. His theorem formula was well ahead of his time, he discovered it more than two millennia ago. c, the hypotenuse, or the longest side of any right angled triangle equals the sum of the squares of the lengths of the legs. Written in a formula it is c square equals a square plus b square."

"What you just said, sir, went in through one ear and out the other. I'm sorry."

"Hmm," Mr Thompson said, rubbing his temples. "Let's try another approach," he suggested and got up from the chair.

"Are you coming?" He asked and put on his shoes.

"Where are we going?"

"Outside. It's much too nice out for spending the rest of the day inside. And clearly, you need a bit of fresh air to clear your mind."

When we left his flat, he took me back to the main building of the school.

"I thought we were going outside?" I couldn't help but ask.

"We are, but for what I have in mind, you need a different set of clothes. I don't want your mother on my back for letting you run about in your best travelling clothes."

Run about? I wondered. "Sir?"

"Oh, don't worry. We're not going for a run, not today. Maybe tomorrow morning. The rest of the afternoon we'll put old sadistic Mr Pitygator's 'theorem of much misery' into practise. I must write down that name so I can use it in class, it's pretty good.

"Anyway, we'll be on the sports field and I don't want you getting grass stains all over your clothes," he explained and led the way to Matron's supply room.

"What size shoes do you wear?"

"These are six," I said after checking one of my shoes. "They're getting a bit too small, though."

"Try these on for size, they're six and a half. You want them to sit firmly on your feet. You don't want them to be too snug, nor too loose either. That's only going to result in blisters."

"Mum always buys shoes a bit bigger so I can grow into them."

"That's good advice for saving a bit of money, but really poor advice for comfort. And while you're here at school, you can always ask Matron for larger shoes when you outgrow the ones you find now. Never go down on equipment."

"Can I get a pair of regular shoes too, sir? Since we're here now, anyway."

"You're trying to reap the benefits of being a master's boy already? School hasn't even started yet."

"No, sir! I'd never try to do that!"

"Relax, Teddy. Don't take everything I say so damned serious. Of course we'll find you shoes that fit, both everyday ones and for sports."

"I think these are alright."

"Do them up first, you can't tell with the laces undone. We have plenty of time."

***

The first pair of studded shoes I tried on were a perfect fit, and after trying on two different pairs of the normal leather shoes, I decided to go with the first pair. After a quick dash up to my dorm through the empty corridors to put my own shoes in my locker, I returned to Matron's storage room.

"Right, you can change into these now," Mr Thompson told me and pointed out the polo-shirt and the pair of rugby shorts he had laid on the counter.

"Here?"

"Why not? I'm going to see you fully naked sooner or later anyway. If you'd rather I left, I guess I can find something to do while you change."

"Uh, I don't mind you seeing me undress, Mr Thompson, but…"

"We're all alone, if we wanted to, we could be having sex right here and now without anyone being any the wiser."

"Heh, sorry sir, tempting as that sounds, that counter really doesn't look comfortable at all," I said and unbuttoned my jeans.

"Who's the spoilsport now?"

"I am the one taking his clothes off… So, I think the spoilsport must be you, sir," I retorted and unzipped my fly.

"Oh dear, what have I done? What monster have I awakened?"

"Not mine, not yet," I said and made a show of checking the state of my prick.

"Careful, Teddy. You're playing with fire. If you keep this up for much longer, I'm afraid you might find out just how uncomfortable Matron's counter really is."

"Have you had other boys down here?" I asked curiously in my normal voice and slid down my jeans without trying to make it into a strip tease. "While they lay on the counter?"

"No. You would be the first."

"No thanks, sir. I meant what I said about the counter looking uncomfortable."

"We could always put some towels on top of it?"

"Nah, I've tried something like that before, it only worked for a while and then the pillow slipped and made the table cut into my thighs until he finished."

"I'm sorry! If I had known…"

"You didn't, sir. I never told you, it isn't important any longer anyway."

"Was that your first time?"

"Uh-huh. Back when I was twelve."

"You make it sound like that's years and years ago, you aren't even fourteen yet."

"Only for another three weeks. When did you have sex for the first time?"

"I was nine years old, slim and too cute for my own good. When we get back to the flat I'll show you the year photo from my first year in prep school."

"Cool. So, sir, what do you think?" I asked, wearing only my socks and my underpants.

"You look almost exactly like you did the one time I saw you in the change room after games. Well, you're wearing a bit more now than you did then."

"You've seen me naked?"

"Not yet, unfortunately you had already put on your briefs."

"Oh."

"You've grown some since then, not a whole lot though."

"Yeah, it seems like only my feet are growing."

"Lift up your arms for me. Let me see your pits."

"Why?" I asked as I raised my arms in the air like I had been taken prisoner.

"Just checking something," he explained and came closer. "Still smooth," he observed.

"Can I get dressed now, sir?"

"Of course, sorry I didn't mean to make you nervous."

"I'm cold, sir, I'm not nervous."

"It is rather nippy here. Yeah, hurry up and get dressed so we can get back up and out in the sunshine. Then I'll teach you what old Mr Pythagoras discovered."

"Mr Pitygator," I smilingly corrected Mr Thompson.

"That's right."

***

After I got dressed and a stopover in one of the stalls in the loos, Mr Thompson took me to the sports pavilion where he rummaged about for a while, digging out three javelin spears and a long roll of white string.

"Right, for this exercise, we'll pretend that the length of your shoe is exactly one foot, it doesn't matter that it is somewhat shorter," he explained. "What is important is you get the count exactly right each and every time."

For the next hour he had me constructing various sized right angled triangles on the field using the three javelins and the roll of spring.

The first was quickly made, each leg was exactly three feet, well three shoe lengths, long, and I determined the hypotenuse was four feet and about a quarter of a foot. Mr Thompson asked me to write the numbers in a table, then told me to extend the length of each leg with another foot/shoe length.

"That's five and a bit more than a half," I said after having measured the new length of the hypotenuse. The next was almost exactly seven feet long and I wrote that down too.

When the number of feet reached fifteen, I had about lost every last bit of the little enthusiasm I had before we started with the exercise. I should've let him bum me on the counter. That would've been much more fun than this!

"For how much longer are we going to keep doing this, sir?" I asked.

"Are you tiring so soon? Well, I think we may have enough numbers now. Roll the string back up and I'll take the javelins back."

We put the stuff back in the pavilion and sat on one of the benches next to the field.

"Okay, bring out the numbers," he told me and I showed him the page in my notebook where I had written the numbers.

Quickly he drew a coordinate system on the next page, and plotted in the numbers.

"What does this tell you?" He asked when he had finished.

"Uh, what am I looking for, sir?"

"The trend, Teddy. You've been consistently expanding the length of each leg with exactly one each time. Now look at this line," he explained and quickly connected the dots he had put in the system.

"It's a straight line," I observed.

"Yes, splendid!"

"And so?"

"So every time you added to the length of the two legs, the hypotenuse increased in length too. Linearly, I might add."

"Okay, but how does that help? It's easy when you have all the numbers, sir. If I only have the lengths of the legs, how do I figure out what the hypotenuse is?"

"Well, the chart of numbers you've just made won't help you find the answer to that question."

"Why did you make me go through all of that then, sir? That was a complete waste of time!"

"Not at all. In my flat all you had to say was that it was too complicated and that everything sucked! Just now you were much more specific, able to point out exactly what you have problems with."

"I didn't say all that, sir!"

"Well, maybe not, but I'm sure you thought that."

"If you had simply asked me what the problem was, I could've told you then."

"What? And miss out on seeing your almost naked body? I'm not sure I could've carried on living knowing that I'd miss out on that."

"Hah, hah. That's so not funny, sir!"

"No it isn't. I do like seeing you back in shorts, Teddy. Those legs of yours, it should be a crime covering them up under a pair of jeans."

"Well, a week from now, I'm back to wearing shorts full time again. So you'll be seeing my legs a lot. However, I'm not amused by your 'exercise'!"

"Well, it cleared your mind. And we were able to find some shoes that fit your feet to perfection. I got to see your body and your pits, and they are damn near perfect too!"

"You still tricked me, sir…"

"Actually what we did is almost the same as dear old Mr Pythagoras did back in the day when he proved his theory. Maths aren't just numbers on a sheet of paper, it's a living, breathing thing. It's all around us, everywhere you look you'll find a formula."

"Maybe, but you haven't explained how I use this Pitygator stuff. I know that I have to find the square root of the numbers, but how?"

"You won't have to find the square root of all the numbers, just the sum of two of them. Here, I'll make it simple for you, a is three, and b is four. What's three times three?"

"Nine. And four times four is sixteen."

"What's the sum of those?"

"Twenty five, sir."

"Correct, what's the square root of twenty five then?"

"That's what I can't figure out!"

"Let me rephrase it for you, what number do you have to multiply with itself to get twenty five?"

"Am I supposed to know that offhand?"

"For the exams, it would be best. For now, no. I know you know the tables by now, what could possibly result in a number ending with a five?"

"Well, uh, one, three, five… Oh! Five times five is twenty five!"

"Well done, Teddy! you've just found the square root of twenty five. It's five. And that's the length of the hypotenuse in a right angled triangle when the two legs are three and four units long."

"So, all I have to do is add the length of two sides, then figure out what number I have to multiply with itself to end up with the sum of them?"

"Precisely."

"I gotta practice that a whole lot before I'll be able to remember how to do it."

"That's what life's all about, Teddy. Practicing. Sometimes it can be a chore, but once you've practiced enough it'll seem like a piece of cake."

"Speaking of cake, sir, I'm kind of hungry."

"Okay, that's enough of Pythagoras now, let's go find some place to eat. I think the pub tonight, eh?"

"The pub, sir? We're eating out?"

"Yes, I don't feel much like cooking."

"Cool!"

Chapter 21
Second shower

"Thank you, sir. That was the best dinner I've had in all of my life!" I stated, truthfully, when I sat next to Mr Thompson in his car, driving back to school from the pub.

"Is that so? You're my kind of lad, easily pleased and relatively inexpensive too."

"Are you calling me cheap, sir?"

"Not at all. That word means something entirely different, being cheap is a degrading label for a girl who is seeing a lot of boys."

"I know, but I thought it applied to boys too."

"Are you seeing a lot of boys?"

"Depends on what you think is 'a lot'. I've been with five boys all in all, no six, and a guy once."

"You've had sex with a grown up?"

"Once, sir, and it was only for like five minutes."

"Who? How? When?"

"I don't know his name, he never told me. I met him, well, I saw him wanking through a hole in the wall in the public toilets back at home when I first ran from school. He saw me looking and one thing led to another and it ended up with him bumming me then sucking me off through the hole. It was really wild, sir, exciting I mean. I went round there again when I ran off the next time, but he wasn't around then."

"That isn't exciting, Teddy. That's reckless! He could have seriously hurt you. He could have trapped you by tying a string around your cock and balls, maybe cut it off altogether. Listen, I'm not joking here, men have gotten hurt by sticking their cocks into gloryholes. The more fortunate ones were released after they handed over their wallet, others have ended up dead, bleeding out from having their cocks cut off.

"Did this guy use a condom when he fucked your arse?"

"What's a condom, sir?"

"Shit! Well, if you're not feeling sick now, you're probably in the clear, but certain diseases spread when people have unprotected sex, like syphilis and gonorrhoea. It doesn't hurt when you go for a piss?"

"No?"

"That's a good sign, at least. You haven't got syphilis that would feel like you're pissing razor blades. But, when you have sex with someone you don't know extremely well, you should always wear a condom, or make him wear one if he's going to bum you."

"Does that include you, sir?" I asked, now suddenly worried that I might have done something seriously stupid. "And the kids at school?"

"You should be safe with me. The other lads? Well, if you decide to be with someone who has a lot of sex back home with people he doesn't know, then yes, you should use a condom. Whenever you're having sex with someone, you're also having sex with all of his previous sex partners."

"I'm not planning to have sex with a lot of different boys this year, only Stanley and Deon. Maybe one or two of Deon's friends. And you."

"Stanley? Stanley Hawkins?"

"Yeah, he'll be in second year this year, so it's alright for him to be my younger friend."

"He is a cute kid, and kind of young. Nice score though, Teddy. With Stanley being so young, I doubt you will be at any risk of contracting anything from him, but if you make him sick because of you being reckless, his father will string you up by your balls. Actually, he'd have to get in line, as I'll be doing that before he gets the chance."

"I don't want anyone getting sick, sir!" I whimpered. "I'm sorry, I messed up."

"You did. Learn from it, next time you might get hurt."

"I will… I have, sir, I won't ever do it again."

"Good. Now, please stop crying. You've caused no harm, I'm truly sorry for scaring you like that, but what I've told you is the truth, all of it. Sex is supposed to be lots of fun and exciting, but it's a kind of excitement that does come with risks. Being aware of the risks is a way to stay healthy and safe. It's your responsibility explaining that to Stanley in a way so he understands, now that he is to be your younger friend.

"I may be jumping to conclusions here, but I'm guessing, and hoping that you'll be the one introducing him to sex?"

"Yes, sir. Well, if he has kept his promise over the summer, he won't have had sex with anyone yet."

"Good. Like your first time, mine wasn't a very nice experience either. Please, do whatever you can to make Stanley's first time nice and something he'll look back on with pleasure, rather than shame and regret."

"I will. I've already promised him it'll be nice for both of us."

"Then I think we won't need to discuss it any further. You can of course always ask me for guidance any time, I'll do my best to give a straight answer, without judgement, no matter what."

"Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome. So, do you feel like watching TV for half an hour before getting ready for bed?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay. Thirty minutes, then the TV is switched off, no matter what might be on at the time. I don't know if there is anything worth watching now, I rarely ever watch TV, only when they show races."

"Races, sir?"

"Running, Teddy."

"Oh. I've never fully understood why anyone would want to run, voluntarily… I mean, yeah I ran a couple of times, but that was to get away from the bullying at school. What are they running from? Why did Martin run?"

"Well, I guess we all have our reasons for doing what we do. Martin likes to run because it is something he is very good at. Me? Well, I guess I started running simply because it was what one of my older friends did. I was good too, but my legs never grew long enough for me to keep up with the best in competitions and I found something else I'm good at."

"Teaching," I stated, just as Mr Thompson pulled into his parking space and turned off the engine.

"Yes. I consider myself a very good teacher, though you guys keep me on my toes. And I like that, constantly being challenged, academically mind you, not authoritatively. I like having to think up new ideas for helping someone understand what I'm trying to teach him," he said and opened the car door.

"Heh, I'm sure I'm one of your more challenging students, sir."

"Well, not really, Teddy," Mr Thompson said and shut the door again before he turned to face me. "You have an insatiable appetite for learning… Sure, you give up a little too easily at times, but with just a little help, you're unstoppable in your quest for mastering whatever it is you're facing."

"Uhm, about that, sir. I've sort of made a promise to Dad, uh, he isn't my real dad… But, I've kind of, well, I guess I've agreed to end up in the top half of the year at the exams."

"Have you now? I firmly believe that it is a good thing to set goals to aim for in life, however, I'm afraid that may be setting the bar a bit too high."

"I won't make it?"

"No, not with the current study plan. It only covers the bare minimum required for passing the Common Entrance tests. Even if you were to correctly answer all of the questions, that are covered by the study plan, it would only land you somewhere around the lower third of the year. You may get lucky and find yourself able to answer some of the other questions, but depending on luck isn't going to do you any good in the long run.

"Imagine if you were to enrol in a public school without the groundwork in place… No, it would be almost impossible to grasp the higher levels of teaching without a firm understanding of the more basic stuff. You'd just be postponing disaster, and adding to it along the way."

"Fuck! I knew I'd regret going to James' house for a week this summer. What am I gonna do now? Dad will be pissed and I'll end up having to learn a skill, and busting my arse off for the next fifty years on a salary I won't be able to do bugger all with…"

"Such colourful language, Teddy… Anyway, I said that you won't be able to make it if we stick with the current study plan. I'll have to discuss it with your other teachers and Mr Halford before I can say whether or not you'll be able to learn what you need to know for the exams.

"We may just be able to wing it, but it'll take more than you and me to make it happen," he concluded and opened the door again. "I'm not sure, Teddy, however I know for a fact that we can't sit and talk all night long in my car."

"Just to get this right, sir, if Mr Halford and the other masters agree, I could end up in the better half of upper fourth against all odds?"

"Miracles do happen. And if you succeed at this, it will be nothing short of a miracle, combined with a lot of hard work."

"I guess I know what I must do on Sundays in chapel then," I said quietly. "Pray to God for a miracle."

"You focus on studying, you may find God too busy for listening to your prayers."

"Can we skip the TV watching?" I asked when Mr Thompson let us into his flat. "I feel more like a shower and going to bed."

"Okay. Do you want to sleep on the sofa or with me in my bed?"

"In bed, please."

"Fine with me. You go wash up and I'll get everything ready for you."

"Thanks, sir."

***

I shut off the water and towelled my body, then realised I hadn't a fresh pair of pants to put on. I'm not putting these back on now, I decided. I'd been wearing them all day long and it had been a warm day, apart from the short time spent in the Matron's room in the cold basement. They smell from sweaty arse!

Instead, I wrapped the damp towel around my body and brushed my teeth after wiping the mist off the mirror above the sink. With one last check of my hair, I left the small steamy bath room and went back to Mr Thompson's living room wearing only the towel.

"I've a problem, sir," I said and held up the smelly pair of pants. "I forgot to bring clean underwear."

"At least there's an easy solution to that problem, I've something you can wear if you don't feel like sleeping in the nude."

"What about tomorrow morning?"

"Well, you can wear the shorts without undies for the short walk to school. The other teachers will start arriving tomorrow, our first meeting is after lunch. It may be better if you are in uniform when they arrive. You'll have to fend for yourself in the afternoon, can you do that without getting yourself into trouble?"

"Sure, I'll work with Pythagoras, sir. Maybe it'll make more sense then."

"That sounds like a plan. Now, as for the night… Nude or not?"

"Hmm," I breathed, undecided. Should I leave it up to him? If I do, what will happen then? Will he want to have sex with me? Am I ready for that? It's gonna happen, if not tonight, then some other time. It's what I want, isn't it? It was, until he told me sex can be risky! But, he said I should alright, that no harm's been done. Sheesh. Okay!

"How would you want me, sir? I'm your guest, your boy."

"Are you sure, Teddy? Do you want to start being my boy tonight?"

"I guess? It's going to happen, isn't it, sir? It's only a matter of when. I've just showered and I'm all naked under the towel anyway."

"Okay. I'll go get ready for bed too, the bedroom's through that door, why don't you go get comfortable on the bed and I'll join you in five."

***

Mr Thompson's bed was sort of narrow, even if it was made up for two, still it was almost double the width of the beds in the dorms. Which side is his? I tried to determine that by looking at the bed tables, but they were pretty much the same and the alarm clock was sitting on a dresser near the door. The linen was freshly washed and left no clues either.

I finally ended up lying in the middle of the bed, still wearing the towel and wondering whether I should take it off or not. Maybe he would like it more if he can unwrap me? Oh sure, like I'm some kind of gift, I think not. I took off the towel, spread it on the bed and lay on my back on top of it. Here he comes! I realised and quickly turned to face the bed and buried my face in one of his pillows. I heard him stop just after he entered the room.

For a full minute nothing happened; Mr Thompson just stood there, and I lay on the bed, second-guessing every decision I had made after leaving the shower. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, the suspense had grown to a point where I felt like wetting the bed, and I turned my head to look back at him.

"Ah, you're still awake," he said quietly. "For a while I thought you had fallen asleep and I didn't want to do anything to wake you."

"I'm not asleep…"

"I can tell now. Stay just like that, please," he continued speaking softly. "I have a ritual, Teddy. It's something I do with every new boy in my bed… It's a way for me to make him mine, like I was once claimed by someone else. May I do that with you? Can I make you mine, like I did with Martin and the boys before him?"

"How will you do that? What do I do?"

"You'll just stay there on your front; quietly, submissively, completely passive and obedient. I'll bum you, like you've never been bummed before."

"Hard?" I asked, sort of wistfully. I really missed Marcus' late evening visits in my bed.

"Yes, very hard… Just as soon as you're ready for it, I'll pound your arse with my cock."

"Mm, okay, sir."

"Put one of the pillows under your front and push your face back into the pillow, exactly like before. Don't spread your legs, keep them close together."

Sitting up on my knees I picked up the towel, put the spare pillow on the bed where my prick would be, folded the towel a couple of times and put that on top of the pillow. All the while I did this, my prick remained soft contradicting the excitement I felt; it was as if my body knew that there would be no need for an erection for what was about to happen. Not mine, anyway.

Deliberately I concentrated on my tasks and managed to keep from observing what Mr Thompson was doing at the same time. He was undressing and I was desperate to find out how large his grownup prick was. Is it larger than that guy in the toilets? I wondered, while trying to remember how Mr Thompson had described his prick when I had agreed to become his boy months earlier. It isn't a boy's cock, it's a proper man's cock!

Instinctively, I knew Mr Thompson didn't want me to see his cock before he pushed it deep inside of my bum, he wanted me to feel it; that was the reason for why I should hide my face in the pillow. While I did wonder about its size, I wasn't afraid that it might be too large for me. I wasn't the first boy Mr Thompson would fuck, and so I was full of confidence that he knew well what he was going to do to me.

Most likely I won't be his last either, but I'll be the best damn boy he has had in bed and ever will have! I decided and felt the mattress shift under me as he climbed into bed with me. Without being told I moved my hands and spread open my bum cheeks for Mr Thompson, who without commenting put a dab of cold lube on my hole.

You had better lube up your prick too! I tried to convey silently, obeying his command of keeping quiet, though the amount of KY he had put on my hole was less than I had ever used with Deon and James.

However much I strained my ears, I couldn't pick up any sounds from behind me, but I felt the mattress shift again when he straddled my legs. Suddenly, I felt the end of his cock brush up against my bum and quickly move towards my hole.

Bearing down with every muscle in my body, I felt Mr Thompson apply pressure, lots of pressure, and my hole slowly opened up for his cock. I couldn't keep pushing down for as long as it took for him to gain entry on the first attempt, and I gasped; I emptied my lungs and hefted down another rushed breath of air, and bore down again.

He never let up any, just kept on pushing his prick into my bum hole. I didn't think much of it at the time, but later in life, I've often wondered how Mr Thompson could so accurately determine just how much discomfort I could handle without it turning into outright pain. He kept me right on the threshold, never exceeding my limit, while he in one continuous move slowly sank his prick inside of my adapting body.

Man! I've never felt so stuffed before! I observed and yet there was more to come.

Mr Thompson hadn't been jesting, his cock was the longest and fattest, that I, thus far, had had in my bum when he finally couldn't push anymore inside of me. It had taken him less than a minute to fully impale me, and he settled down, resting his middle on top of me; allowing me to adjust to the fat intruder stuck in my bum.

I hadn't fully adjusted to his girth when he withdrew just an inch [c. 2.5cm] or so and pushed back in and rested once more. After a series of in, slowly out and back in movements, the pauses became shorter and shorter. By then, I was rather enjoying the bumming I was subjected to; the way his cock pushed out the walls of my rectum and grazed against my prostate gland every time it moved was something I hadn't experienced before.

It was intense, no-one had ever made me feel quite like this, my prostate gland was being stimulated with every slight movement. When Marcus had fucked me and dominating me so beautifully, almost brutally, his prick hadn't been in constant contact with my sex-button and still he had made me cum in minutes.

Mr Thompson made me cum in ninety seconds, or thereabout, much sooner than Marcus ever had. I buried my face even deeper into the pillow and moaned loudly, then had to turn my head sideways to get a breath of air.

"You're enjoying yourself?" Mr Thompson asked, casually, almost normally, all the while he kept moving his hips back and forth.

"Sir!" I gasped affirmatively.

"Good, so am I."

"Keep doing it, please."

"We aren't done. Not for a while, yet."

Momentarily, I suffered, I have to admit; when the first orgasm petered out of my body, the large mass moving in and out of my bum felt more uncomfortable than nice, bordering on being painful. It took a couple of minutes for my brain to register that my prostate was still being massaged, relentlessly and remorselessly, by Mr Thompson's cock. Slowly, I started building to another climax and Mr Thompson wasn't showing any signs of being close to his first.

My bum hole had relaxed now, fully dilated, splayed open while Mr Thompson kept fucking it; he upped the tempo and increased the length of his strokes, ever so little at a time. I wondered if I should try doing what Gavin had done when I had fucked him that one time during the filming; he had tightened his bum hole around my prick on the outstroke, then relaxed on the instroke.

That felt so nice and made me cum much sooner than if he hadn't…

I rejected the idea after giving it some more thought, Mr Thompson wanted me completely passive and just let him do what he wanted while he claimed me as his boy. Besides, it's starting to feel pretty darn good again.

***

My second orgasm wasn't as powerful as the first and the happy feelings left my body faster too. Mr Thompson was by then fucking me quite hard, the slapping noise from his middle humping into my buttocks had increased in volume and when I came the second time, I heard him grunt as my bum hole gripped his cock tightly.

I felt about ready for another shower when he finally, almost thirty minutes later, groaned like a bull and pushed all of his cock as deeply inside of my bum as he could. I felt it twitch rhythmically in time with his gasps, and could feel how my hole suddenly got a lot wetter, while he unloaded his sperm inside of me.

He was pretty sweaty too when he carefully let his body down on top of mine, and kissed my cheek.

"That was great, Teddy. Thank you."

"Now I'm yours, sir?"

"Now, you are all mine! None of the other masters will try to undo what has been done tonight."

"Cool. Uh, can I have another shower before going to sleep? You made me all sweaty and I really need the loo."

NEXT PART