Diabloa5 & The Aconite Acolyte

Dunn's Chronicles

Part 1: In Light and Chaos

Chapter 4

***

Miles was standing on the sidelines of the soccer field while the game was being played on the field. He caught sight of Matthew, who was shirtless and chasing after the other boy, the one the kids all called 'The Flash'. My God, he's so perfect, he thought as Matthew ran past him, sweat glistening on the boy's smooth skin. Miles closed his eyes and sniffed the air, catching a whiff of the boy's scent, sweat, energy, and that sweet, slightly sour boy smell.

Miles was vaguely aware of something in his right hand. He glanced down and found his fist wrapped around a stiffened boy cock, which was in turn attached to that Anthony kid – the one that had accosted him in the locker room. Anthony was seated on the team bench, completely nude with his legs spread apart. The boy was leaning back on one arm while his free hand gently circled around his nipple. His head was tilted back with his eyes closed, and he was moaning softly.

Behind the benches, there was a row of lockers that seemed to stretch onward forever in either direction. Around Miles and Anthony, the other members of Saint Xavier were watching the game and cheering the players on. Nobody seemed to notice Miles, or what he was doing with Anthony. Appalled at what he was doing, Miles tried to pull his hand away from the soft cocklet, only to find that he couldn't. It seemed to have a mind of its own as it slowly stroked up and down the rock hard shaft.

Miles looked back up at the field and saw that one of the soccer players had stopped playing and was just standing there, staring right at him. The boy lifted his arm and extended a finger, pointing at him and Anthony. Miles tried again to remove his hand, but it wouldn't stop rubbing Anthony. He tried to walk away, but his feet seemed rooted to the spot. On the field, the tip of the boy's accusing finger seemed to glow, like the alien's finger in the movie E.T.

A second player stopped running and stared at them. He, too, lifted a finger and pointed. Soon, a third and fourth player did the same. One by one, the players stopped the game to stare and point at Miles and Anthony, each one with a glowing fingertip. Then, the spectators began to do the same. Before long, all the boys and teachers were staring at them and pointing. On one end of the field, near one of the goals, Mr. Daniels had his arms folded across his chest. He was shaking his head, a look of angered disapproval written on his face. At the opposite goal, Carl Fisher seemed almost in hysterics, pointing and laughing like a hyena.

Miles used his free hand to grab hold of his wrist and tried to pull his hand away from the boy's cock. After planting his foot on the bench and pulling with all his strength, he was finally able to yank his hand away. It kept wanting to return to the hairless cock, like a magnet. He hid his hand behind his back, then looked around for a way to escape the accusing fingers. The only way was around the lockers, so Miles started walking quickly alongside them, looking for a way through.

Behind him, the boys and teachers were still pointing their glowing fingers at him, and now they all collectively opened their mouths. Instead of voices, a loud steady siren, like that of the tornado warning he used to hear back home when he was a boy, came from their mouths. Dunn glanced over his shoulder and found that they were no longer standing still, but slowly beginning to walk towards him, their condemning fingers still raised and pointed at him. Anthony, too, had risen from the bench and had joined them, his cocklet soft now, and swinging between his legs with each step.

Miles turned and sprinted away from them, and they all began to give chase, running after him. The row of lockers seemed to have no end, so Miles paused and tried to climb over them. He swung his leg over the other side and balanced himself on top of them, only to find that there was no other side, just a steep cliff that seemed to fall ever downwards into a bottomless abyss.

There was nothing left to do but run until his legs gave out. He jumped back down and ran as fast as he could down the row of lockers, his pursuers less than fifty yards away and closing in. On a whim, Miles slowed and tried to open one of the locker doors. To his surprise, it swung open, and Miles stepped inside, slamming it shut behind him. At the back of the locker was another door; Miles opened this one and stepped through.

His foot landed back on the soccer field, only he was thirty yards farther than he had been when he stepped into the locker. The crowd, noticing that he had somehow teleported further away, adjusted their direction towards him. Miles ran down a few more lockers, then opened another one and stepped inside. When he went out the rear door of this locker, he ended up about ninety yards back, behind the group that was chasing him.

Before he could try to slink away, they all turned as one to face him. Once again, they started running back the way they had come, again giving chase. Miles opened the locker to his left and stepped inside, only when he went out the back door, he ended up right beside the crowd. They adjusted their course again and came for him. At the last second, Miles backed into the locker he had just left and went out the rear door, putting him back in the position he had just left.

He ran a little farther, then opened another locker, praying that it wouldn't put him anywhere near them. He exited the rear and was once again behind them, this time only about twenty yards. This is nuts, he thought as they all turned to face him again. How much longer can I do this? Eventually, he was going to tire and the angry mob would catch up with him. Then what? What would they do to him? He didn't know, but something in his gut told him that it wouldn't be pretty.

Miles went into another locker, and as he reappeared almost two hundred yards away from them, he could feel his body slowing. It felt like he was moving through molasses. He trudged along another few feet, and as he lifted his arm to open the locker, it felt as though he had old fashioned triangular bell weights attached to his wrists. It took everything he had to lift his fingers to the locker's drop-latch and push it up. He swung the door open and all but fell into it, quickly going out the back.

He now appeared behind them again, about thirty yards away. They turned and started running towards him, the loud sirens that were their voices never wavering. Miles had to struggle to lift his feet as he took a few steps away and opened another locker. This one put him another sixty yards further down the field. He reached for the next locker, but it suddenly vanished into thin air with a small pop, sounding like a child pushing his finger out of his mouth. It left a gaping hole where the locker had been, and beyond the open space Miles could see the edge of the cliff. Clouds drifted lazily by like a haze, and Miles somehow knew that the soccer field was floating miles up in the air above the school.

A few yards down on his left, there was another pop noise, and another locker disappeared. Then, another one went about twenty yards to his right. Soon they will all be gone and I'll have to face the crowd – if they don't catch up with me first. The thought made Miles panic, and he quickly opened the next locker down and stepped through. This one put him about ten yards behind the crowd, and it took every ounce of Miles's strength to turn and open another locker. He slammed the door shut behind him just before the nearest pursuer could grab hold of his foot.

As Miles continued to open and close lockers – some putting him farther away from the crowd and others putting him closer, he was aware of a faint beeping noise that seemed to emanate from the sky above. The beeping grew louder and louder until it filled the entire world with its tinny sound, drowning out the sirens that came from the angry mob.

Miles awoke in a sweat; his heart racing in his chest, but safe and sound in his bed. Beside him on the night stand, the cheap alarm clock he had bought at the airport was beeping its annoying head off. Miles reached up and switched off the alarm, then lay back on his bed to calm himself. Beneath his thin sheet, the fading remnants of a once pounding erection was slowly dying. Needing release, Miles stripped the covers back, reached down and began rubbing his cock. As he did this, his thoughts turned back to the boy in his dream – Anthony Reid his name had been. He thought of the softness of the boy's skin, the perfect creaminess of the kid's thigh, and the adorable cocklet that had been standing so proud before him.

It didn't take much; within five strokes he was again hard, and another twenty or so strokes caused him to spew his load all over his stomach and chest. Miles lay back and caught his breath with his seed drying on his chest. He reviewed the events of the previous day and especially the incident in the locker room. Young Anthony had been overtly sexual, and Miles was more than a little worried about it. Did Anthony know about his inclinations somehow? Could he sense Miles's feelings for young boys? Was Miles giving off lustful vibes or pheromones or something? Why would the boy pick him over all the younger, cuter males of the school?

He wondered if he should have reported the occurrence to the headmaster. It may have been the smartest thing to do, but given Miles's sexual preferences, it also seemed a bit risky. Anthony would probably have denied his own involvement, and instead placed the carnal advancements on Dunn. 'I dunno what was happening,' the boy would say, 'I just went to get my water bottle, and suddenly, Mr. Dunn was all over me; sticking his hand down my shorts and touching my wiener. I didn't like it one bit! It was all Mr. Dunn!'

The point was moot anyway; if Dunn went to the headmaster now, it would look suspicious since the incident had taken place the previous afternoon. Questions would be asked, questions like 'why didn't you come to me sooner, or why do you look so guilty about it?' Miles instead chose to keep his mouth shut about it, and believed that Anthony would do the same.

As he lay in bed, Miles couldn't seem to get the boy out of his mind. That sharp, lovely face that held such beauty, the beautiful pale eyes that seemed even more beautiful when the boy was angry, the look of lust in those eyes while the boy had been guiding Miles's hand onto his eager boyhood. There really had been lust there, Miles was certain of it. In fact, he could probably summon the boy to his office today after breakfast and enjoy him fully. There was little doubt in his mind that Anthony would be more than willing to do so.

But no, that was absolutely out of the question. Miles had to dash such thoughts from his mind, it was far too risky. The kid could be using him, and after indulging in his fancies, he might report Miles to the headmaster. He could also use it as blackmail to get whatever he wanted from Miles. Even if he had no malice in mind and thoroughly enjoyed each and every second of it, the boy could always change his mind further down the road.

The other boys Miles had enjoyed had been 'one night stands', and he knew there was little chance of ever seeing them again. Anthony was different, if Miles did give in to temptation, he would still have to see the boy every day until the kid graduated or Miles found some other work. No, it was much too risky. While doing his investigation for the school Miles could study the boy from afar and keep his distance.

Perhaps he could even report an incident to Mr. Daniels without going into specifics, just to be on the safe side. Then again, it still seemed rather chancy. It simply hit too close to home, and the look on his face as he was being questioned about the incident might give him away. Better to err on the side of caution and keep his mouth shut. If Anthony told, he could just explain that nothing serious had happened; a simple misunderstanding, and that he didn't want to get the boy into any trouble during his third day on the job. If he looked guilty, it would be more understandable since the headmaster would only think he felt bad for not reporting it.

Still, if Anthony really did want to pursue a sexual relationship with him, who was he to deny the boy, as well as his own true feelings? Until now, he had been a ghost, living a life that was not truly his. Miles felt as though he were at a crossroads in his life and had to make a decision. On one hand, the path led towards his refusal to express what was at his core; his love for boys. Not strictly in a sexual sense, although that part was definitely there. Choosing this path meant that Miles would have to abandon that part of himself completely and continue with an unfulfilled existence, always on alert for temptations, and never able to confide his true feelings with anyone, forever unsatisfied.

The other path led in the opposite direction; Miles giving in to his innermost desires and fantasies. It was surely the more alluring path, and were it not for the consequences forced upon those who loved boys by modern society, this path was the one that Miles would happily succumb to. Since he had set foot in this school, perhaps now was the time to fully accept who he is, and to act accordingly – whatever the risks.

Whatever decision he came to, Miles felt as though it was undoubtedly time to choose one way or the other. Maybe that was why he had accepted the job in the first place. He had to try and see what would come of it, see if something, anything, was possible. Only he had to do it one step at a time, being forever cautious and on guard. Anthony's proposal seemed too good to be true, yet also showed that in this place, things appeared to be going on that Miles could use to his advantage, and those opportunities may possibly allow him to experience the life that he so longed for. A life filled with happiness and endless boy love.

Miles reached down and grabbed the sock that he had been wearing yesterday which he had left on the floor. He used it to wipe the semen off himself, then tossed it into his laundry bag, along with the other articles of clothing that he had left beside the bed. He opened his dresser drawer to change into a fresh pair of boxer shorts, then collected fresh clothes for the day. Finally, he picked up his towel and toiletries, and headed out for the shower in the teacher's dorm across the campus. If he was lucky, he might even be able to squeeze another one out in the shower before he officially began his duties.

– – –

Well, there's the cause of the problem, right there.

A large chunk of ice was covering the cooling coil of the wall-mounted AC unit. There had been complaints of loss of power from the unit in the Eagles dorm, and although Miles wasn't the school's handyman, he had agreed to take a quick look at it until maintenance could get to it. Apparently, the ice buildup was interfering with the flow of air, which kept the unit from cooling properly.

Miles had started on his inspection of the dormitories to evaluate their safety levels when Mr. Daniels had caught him and requested that he give it a check. The look in the headmaster's eyes told Miles that he was going to do it whether he wanted to or not, so he grudgingly accepted the job. Now that he had discovered the cause of the problem, he would write it down and pass it along to facilities and maintenance. After all, he didn't know much about HVAC systems, and besides, it wasn't his job. He had done what he said he would, which was to 'take a look at it'; now it was maintenance's problem.

Miles rose and collected his notepad from the chair he had placed it on. He jotted down a quick note about ice buildup, then replaced the cover around the unit. Satisfied, he turned and continued down the hallway toward the boys' dorm rooms. As he entered the first room, he noticed a pair of dirty boxers lying on the top of one of the dressers. Some boy must have been in a hurry to change his morning, and had forgotten to place them into his laundry bag. Miles chuckled and turned back to his work. Boys will be boys 3;

After looking around the room, he walked back into the hallway and continued going from room to room, checking the vents for any blockages, the windows for locks, and any other safety precautions he could think of. Aside from seeing each room that the boys slept in, it was rather boring work, and his mind curiously drifted back to the family that he had left behind before joining the Marines.

Miles came from a family of teachers; his father taught literature, his mother history. Often as a child, Miles would hear the many quotes from the poets and authors that his father adored, quotes that had been imprinted upon Miles's memory at an early age. Occasionally, one of them would randomly pop into his head, disrupting his thoughts.

Shortly after Miles started the sixth grade, he began to feel his first real attractions towards others. However, instead of crushing on the opposite sex, Miles was drawn more towards the other boys in his class. This is when he started to realize he was different; Miles would daydream about the boys around him that he thought were good looking, sometimes even imagining them naked. Although he would cast longing glances at them, he chose to keep his distance, never daring to express his feelings.

As he entered high school, his classmates started to get involved with girls and would often go out on dates with them. Wanting to fit in with the other teenagers, Miles started to date too, secretly hoping his interest in boys would turn to girls his own age. No matter how hard he tried, he was not satisfied and his attraction to young boys persisted.

He hated that he might be gay and kept this part of himself hidden from all others. He wanted more than anything to fit in, to be just like everyone else. He latched onto the idea that this was only a phase that he would one day grow out of, but no matter what he tried, his attraction to younger boys remained. Much to his discontent, he could not conform to the mold that society deemed 'normal'. He then started feeling the weight of guilt; he was a monster worse than merely gay. He was a pedophile.

After high school, Miles wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his life. He knew he didn't want a dead-end job in his dead-end hometown. When he turned eighteen, Miles dreamed of adventure; of a chance to see the world. He was a man now, and he could do what he wanted. Unfortunately he didn't have the means; he was still dependent upon his father for support. Yet world travel still held a strong appeal to Miles; seeing different cultures, surrounding himself with people that were more tolerant, perhaps even the possibility of meeting some of the third world boys he had seen on the net.

Miles's thoughts began to turn towards the military, and the possibility of overseas deployment tempted him. He began to hunger after the thought of enlisting. His father was completely against it; the real likelihood of his son's deployment in a combat role did not sit well with him. Miles didn't think much about the danger though, his desires and cravings were too intense at this age to sway him. The military would be his escape, his path to independence, his chance to get out.

Miles was old enough to make up his own mind, and after passing his ASVAB with fairly high scores, he was sworn in. His mother cried when he told her, and his father hit the roof, but after some time they grew used to the idea. Boot camp was hard, but Miles worked enthusiastically. Afterwards, he knew he had to stand out, both physically and academically if he was going to have any choice in his future assignments. He invested himself in his studies and military duties over the next few years.

Eventually, it paid off. Miles put in for an overseas assignment which he received. Finally, he was given the chance to see the world – not to mention satisfy his yearning for boys with the occasional third world prostitute or street child. Much to his surprise, however, things did not work the way he had thought they would. Miles rushed his few sexual encounters and felt a rush of guilt afterwards. Perhaps it was the fear of discovery or his moral compass that left him unsatisfied; Miles didn't know for sure. He often found himself acting aggressively and without care towards the children. His sexual appetite was sometimes fulfilled, but he was still hurting inside and saw no cure in sight. Afraid of losing all he had gained, he started to reduce those chance encounters.

The only real satisfying experience Miles experienced had happened during a tour in Afghanistan with a young ashna. Instead of the usual 'boy play' that Pashtun men would sometimes engage in, Miles had merely slept with the nude boy. The experience had left Miles feeling happy and more fulfilled than any of the others. It was erotic, yet innocent. Miles felt proud of that peaceful act, although he could not share it with anyone else and had been somewhat imposed by the circumstances.

Miles often thought back to that night, reliving that experience. His arms wrapped lovingly around the young delicate shoulders, gently caressing the boy's back down to his buttocks, while the child lightly snored upon his chest. The warm feel of his soft skin, the fresh smell of boy filling his nostrils…that alone brought him a deep feeling of happiness. It contrasted with his other encounters with boys, where sex and his own personal satisfaction were his only goals, and always came with those feelings of remorse.

Miles was so wrapped up in the memory, he discovered he hadn't been paying much attention to the rooms he was supposed to be checking. Reluctantly leaving those thoughts for a later time, Miles walked down the hallway to the next dorm room to finish his inspection.

Ahead of him, the door to the dorm head's room was slightly different than the others. It was unlocked, and as Miles pushed it open, his jaw dropped. Instead of a tiny room like the one Miles had, this one was huge. Two walls appeared to have been removed so that the room took up the space of three dorms. The room was decorated with expensive antique furniture, and a large, king-sized bed dominated the far end. There was kind of a recreation area with high-end video equipment to one side of the room. A small door beside the bed led on to a fourth dorm room, which had been converted to a private bathroom, complete with a toilet, dual sinks, jetted shower, and a corner whirlpool Jacuzzi bathtub.

What the fuck?! How could anybody get away with this? Dunn wasn't positive, but he was fairly certain that a teacher taking up four dorm rooms – rooms that could house up to sixteen more boys – was against the rules, not to mention the removal of two walls. On a desk he saw a picture of Carl Fisher surrounded by students on the steps leading to the main building. On the wall above the desk was a framed diploma stating Carl Fisher as a professor of physics. Miles understood then that Fisher was a man of great influence. Obtaining such accommodations meant he was also well connected.

Miles knew that Carl was close to the headmaster, or at least appeared to be. Mr. Daniels would have to know of the renovation, a room this lavish couldn't go unnoticed. It still didn't seem right to Miles though. He didn't want to make problems with those that held tenure, but it didn't seem right for the physics teacher, no matter how strong his influence in the school, to have a room of such grandeur while the rest of the faculty and students had to make do with the bare minimum. It would likely be out of place even in the Teacher's dormitory.

Miles made a small note on his notepad about the room before he continued with his safety checks. Perhaps he could ask one of the other teachers about it during lunch, maybe Mr. Lerher. Hopefully, the biology teacher could give him a little more information about Carl Fisher.

– – –

Miles returned to his office after his inspection, and placed his notepad in one of his drawers. There was a small memo sitting on his desk, which he picked up to read:

Mister Dunn -

Many of the students will be returning home over the weekend, and I think it would be a good opportunity for you to check the school's perimeter. The wooden fence stretches for several miles into the woods beyond the horse pastures, and I believe you should be able to cover it over an afternoon on horseback – perhaps Sunday after morning chapel? Not all of the students will be returning home, and I believe this would be a good chance for you to bond with some of them. You may choose a few students to bring along with you for the afternoon ride. I'll notify the kitchen staff to prepare a picnic lunch for you to take along – there is a very lovely spot on the NW border, a gently sloping hill that gives a grand view of the area beyond the school's boundaries. It would be the perfect place for a picnic.

Please have a memo on my desk by Saturday afternoon with the names of the students you plan to take along with you. I'm sure this will be a fun time for all involved!

C. Daniels

Miles placed the memo under the corner of his blotter so he wouldn't forget about it. His mind began to swim with thoughts of who he would pick to go on the ride with him; Matthew of course, and maybe Tanner, the chatterbox. Miles thought it was endearing the way that Tanner rambled on, and he would definitely make the trip more interesting. Maybe he could bring along a few pretty ones, too? Perhaps young Sven? With difficulty, he forced the thoughts from his head so that he could return to his next task, which was to call the parents of Robert Mannheim. The twelve-year-old had run away shortly before Dunn's arrival early in the spring, and he wanted to make an attempt to find out the boy's motives, and why the parents hadn't sent their son back to school.

After finding the boy's contact number in the teacher's student directory, Miles picked up the phone and punched in the numbers. He impatiently tapped a drumbeat out with his pen as he waited for somebody to answer. After the fourth ring, Miles was about to hang up when there was the click noise of a connection being made, followed by a timid 'hello?'

"Hello, is Mister or Missus Mannheim available?"

"Yes, this is Missus Mannheim."

"Good afternoon, this is Miles Dunn from Saint Xavier. I'm the new head of security here at the school, and I was calling in regards to your son, Robert."

There was silence on the other end, so Miles continued.

"I hope he's doing well. He attended Saint Xavier until 3; late March of this year, is that correct?"

Again, there was silence. Miles would have thought that they had been disconnected, but he could faintly hear the woman's raspy breathing through the mouthpiece on the other end. He was about to prompt her with another hello, when she answered.

" 3;Yes 3;"

"Ah, well, the documents I have here don't indicate much about the reason your son left. My call this afternoon was to try to clear this up by asking if you could answer some questions I have about the circumstances surrounding your-"

"My husband and I decided to take him out of school, and he will not be returning," she interrupted him.

Shocked by the sudden outburst, it was now Miles's turn for silence. He physically shook his head and blinked while he quickly gathered his thoughts.

"I understand that ma'am, but I was hoping that you could shed some light onto why he-"

"My son is a good boy, and that place was tearing him down. You're the head of security there, you should know all about it. If you don't already, you will soon enough."

Before he could inquire any further, there was a soft yet very final click on the other end; she had hung up. Miles sat there holding the dead phone to his ear, stunned by the outcome. He held it until the annoying beep that indicated a phone off the hook started to ring in his ear, causing him to jump. He replaced the phone onto its cradle, and then tapped out another drumbeat on his pad of paper while he contemplated.

'Tearing him down?' What was that supposed to mean? The boy was twelve and he was probably bullied at Eagle House, that much he knew from the Muller boys interview. But 'tearing him down?' That was a quite strong expression to describe it – even from a concerned mother. Instead of pulling their child from the school, why didn't they report the culprits? Certainly the boy had explained himself. There was definitely more to it, but the answer would obviously not come from the parents.

Beside Mannheim's name in his notebook, Miles drew a large question mark and circled it twice. He wanted to ponder this further, but his mind kept going back to the large room in Eagles dorm that belonged to Carl Fisher. It certainly seemed strange that only one staff member would have such fine accommodations. He decided that he would find Lerher during lunch and ask him about the goings-on at Eagles House.

From the bell tower above came three loud gongs – time for lunch. Miles closed his notepad, clicked the point back into his pen, and slid both into his desk. Then, he rose and stretched before opening his office door and walking out. He was hungrier than he had thought, and lunch sounded good right about now. As he made his way to the dining hall, he thought about how best to broach the subject of Carl's extravagant accommodations with Lerher.

***

Carl sat at his own desk with his fingers tented in front of him. Unbeknownst to Mr. Dunn, he had placed a bug in the head of security's phone so that he could be aware of what the man was doing. Most calls related to Dunn's work would pass through that line, and it would give him plenty of warning if Miles learned too much and began making unwanted calls. He would then have plenty of time to prepare for any 'surprise' inspections of the school or visits by any school officials that weren't already in his pocket.

When Miles had picked up the receiver and placed the call to Robert Mannheim's parents, a small light went off on Carl's computer screen. Carl quickly opened up the remote monitoring program that received the transmissions from Dunn's phone, and watched the sound waves dance across the small box as he listened to the conversation.

It wasn't good news; Dunn was trying to dig up information about Mannheim and the reasons behind the boy's sudden withdrawal from the school. Clearly, the new head of security was serious about his job, and that worried Carl. After the lunch bell rang, he picked up his own phone and placed a call to Thorvald, an influential member of the School board.

"Hello?"

"Hello Ivor, it's Carl."

"Ah, hey there Carl. How're ya doin'? How's them boys?" the man asked in his heavy Southern accent.

"Not good, Ivor. Our Mister Dunn is asking questions that I'd rather not have answered. Nothing too important at the moment, but he's beginning to scratch the surface."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I wanted to call and make you aware of this so you can prepare for any event. I'll keep a close eye on him on my end and report any other news I have about him as I receive it."

"Very good," Thorvald said, "if he gets too nosy we may have ta do somethin' drastic, but with luck he ain't gonna dig too deep."

"I agree."

"Any word on the Lindquist boy yet?"

Carl cleared his throat.

"Yes Ivor, although I don't think you will care much for it. I don't think Sven will be available, not anytime soon at least. Greg has been working on him for almost two months now, but the damnable boy won't cave."

"Ah, that's a damn shame," Thorvald tsked.

"Yes, but I thought you might like to take young Reid and Hughes for the weekend – as compensation."

A sigh drifted across the phone line.

"I s'pose, although I was really hopin' for that Lindquist kid."

"I apologize, we just need a little more time to work on him. Perhaps I can find you another candidate 3; Mister Anderson, the art teacher, is indebted to me due to his small 3; pharmaceutical habit, and he has a splendid son. You know, the swimmer 3;"

"Yeah, I know the one you're talkin' about. I'm a mite disappointed that Lindquist won't be joinin' me any time soon, but two for the price of one ain't too bad. It's even better with the perspective of Anderson's boy coming to lend a hand."

A smoky laugh drifted over the phone line.

"I was hoping you wouldn't mind too much," Carl said, feeling relieved. "It may be a little risky, but I'm sure it will be well worth it. You'll have to give us some time to make it safe and to get the boy ready for you."

"It's not ideal, but I can wait some more 'til you can make it work."

"Excellent. In that case, I'll have the boys ready to go and waiting to be picked up by the front gate around twelve o'clock Saturday morning, right after sports. I'll also keep you informed about the situation with Mister Dunn."

"Sounds good Carl, talk to you later."

"Goodbye, Ivor."

Carl placed the phone back in the cradle and thought for a moment. He was fairly certain that he could coerce the art teacher to 'lend' his son to the club. The man was a junkie, hopelessly addicted to prescription painkillers. The poor bastard couldn't go more than a few hours without crushing up an OxyContin to snort, and at a whopping eighty dollars apiece, he had run out of money three weeks ago. Carl provided him with two of the small green pills a day, and it was understood between them that Anderson would owe him a huge favor in return for the almost four thousand dollars that was already owed.

If the man started to have any moral dilemmas about loaning his son out, Carl could threaten to cut him off. Nobody else would be willing to front Anderson any drugs, and the wretched junkie wouldn't last more than a day being dope sick - especially not when his job was on the line. After twenty-four hours without the drug, the man would crawl on his hands and his knees, begging Carl to take his son in exchange for a little fix. The only real problem would be the boy himself; he would probably need some convincing and coaching.

A knock at the door interrupted Carl's thoughts. He had asked Anthony to come to his office during lunch, knowing beforehand that Thorvald would more than likely take his offer. Carl cleared the papers from his desk before inviting the boy in.

"Come in."

The door opened and Anthony slid inside, closing the door behind him. As he approached the physics teacher's desk, Carl stared hungrily at the small bulge in the boy's shorts as he wondered if he had the time for a quick fuck. Probably not, he thought. He had a lot of work to do and it would be a wise idea to show his face around the dining hall. He had skipped the lunch break for sex more than a dozen times this month already; the headmaster would begin to wonder about it if Carl didn't occasionally show up in the cafeteria.

"I have a proposition for you, Master Reid."

"Another one?"

Carl chortled to himself. He had been using Anthony quite regularly for his plans as of late, it was no surprise that the boy would grow unenthusiastic after a while. However, he believed that Anthony would be rather pleased with this particular proposition.

"Do you have any plans for this weekend?"

"I guess not," Anthony shrugged.

"In that case," Carl said, "how would you like to spend the night at Mister Thorvald's house? You could leave early Saturday morning and return late Sunday evening."

The boy's face brightened at the mention of Thorvald. The man was very wealthy, and his mansion was every boy's dream, a large swimming pool, a movie theater and game room, and vending machines that provided junk food for free; naturally Anthony would jump at the chance to stay there. A large grin broke out over the boy's face, and he nodded eagerly.

"Yeah, that would be awesome!"

"Very well," Carl replied, "it does come with a small stipulation though. Milo Hughes will be joining you; it will be his first time there."

"You want me to show him around and see that he behaves?"

"That's correct; he is expected to stay the weekend as well."

"He already knows most of what to expect and will be very eager to help out," Anthony said.

"Correct again, I want him to enjoy his stay. Tell him about all the toys Mister Thorvald has to offer; all the latest movies, the video games, the swimming pool."

"Okay, looks like an easy job. Mister Thorvald is nice."

"That he is."

Carl had work to do, but he couldn't help indulging in a quick feel. He placed his hand on Anthony's stomach and slowly slid his hand down into the boy's underwear, fondling the soft cocklet that lay beneath. Anthony closed his eyes and tilted his head back sensually, the way he did when he was about to have sex. Unfortunately, Carl only had time for a quick caress of the boy's genitals. He gave the boy another gentle squeeze, and then withdrew his hand, bringing his finger to his nose to smell the boy's musk.

"I'm afraid I don't have time to satisfy you right now, Master Reid, I'll have to take a rain check. In the meantime, search out Milo Hughes and tell him that he'll be joining you at Thorvald's. Report back to me at once if there are any unexpected problems."

"Okay," Anthony said, looking slightly disappointed.

Carl kissed two of his fingers and placed them against Anthony's soft lips, then dismissed the boy. Not without regret, he watched the child's perfect ass bounce in the tiny uniform shorts as the boy left the room. Turning back to his desk, he pulled a piece of paper from his memo pad and jotted down a quick note to Alfred Anderson, setting up a small meeting with him for the next day. When this was finished, he folded the memo and left his office.

***

Interesting, Miles thought as he took his seat at the teacher's table, Mr. Fisher appears not to be here again. Then again, Lerher had mentioned that Carl frequently took his lunch in his office. 'He's an important member of the school board, so he has more than an average amount of work to get done' had been Lerher's exact words. Miles had forgotten about that until now. Maybe that's why he has such a huge room, he probably has a lot of pull with the school bigwigs; but why in the boys dorm?

Miles picked up the chicken patty sandwich he had received at the cafeteria window and heartily bit into it. He burned the roof of his mouth a little, but he didn't care; he was hungry and the chicken sandwich tasted so good. Steam was rising off the oven fries that were piled on his plate, and the orange slices looked juicy and delicious.

One thing he didn't miss about being a bachelor was having somebody else do the cooking. No more Ramen noodles and Campbell's soup, which was both a good and bad thing. Miles made a mental note to start exercising every morning again, or the meals here were going to make him gain weight.

Beside him, Tom Cruise, the history and geography teacher, was just sitting down with his own tray of steaming hot food. Lerher didn't seem to be around, so Miles thought about asking Tom about Carl's dorm. He swallowed the bite of chicken sandwich in his mouth, and then downed it with a swig of milk.

"Hey Tom," he said.

"Oh, hey Miles, have you heard about the stuff going on in China?"

The question derailed his thoughts. He hadn't heard about the 'stuff' going on in China, as a matter of fact. He wanted to ask about the dorm room, but Tom seemed very excited about his news.

"No, I haven't."

"Oh man, I was watching CNN early this morning. Apparently, there's some kinda bug going around that's killing off tons of people. They're calling it 'Shanxi flu'. They said it's killed over two hundred already."

"Jesus 3;"

"Yeah, they're talking about closing the borders to keep the virus from spreading. Last I heard, all flights into China have been canceled. People are rioting in the streets every night 'cause the government isn't telling anybody what's going on. There was a clip on YouTube that was supposedly leaked from an unknown source, showing a buncha guys wearing hazmat suits that were collecting the sick and taking them all away somewhere. 'Lotta people think they're being shipped off to some camp or something and will never be seen again. Scary sh 3;stuff going down in the Land of the Rising Sun right now."

Tom almost cursed, but realized at the last moment where he was and changed the word. Ms. Cahill, who was seated on the other side of Tom, suddenly interrupted.

"That's Japan."

"I know that," Tom said, turning towards the nurse, "it's called humor."

Tom pointed to the space above her head.

"Look! A joke!"

Shirley shook her head and rolled her eyes. She and Tom started talking more in depth about the news reports they had each seen, and Miles realized that he probably wasn't going to get a chance to ask about Carl's dorm.

As he resumed eating his lunch, he noticed Carl Fisher standing at the lunch line, talking to Mr. Daniels. Carl said something that made the headmaster laugh, and the headmaster clapped him on the shoulder. Then, the physics teacher turned and locked eyes with Miles. The smile wavered for a second, then Carl turned back to the headmaster. He said something else to Mr. Daniels, then turned and left the dining hall.

Well, that was certainly odd, Miles thought as he moved on to his fries. If he didn't know better, he would swear that Carl didn't like him. Something hidden behind the older man's eyes that was cold and bitter. Miles had seen the same look among some of the people during his deployment in Afghanistan, and he didn't care for it. It made him feel on edge, and he didn't like feeling that way anymore.

***

Matthew and Bob were walking down to the stables to look at the horses. Each boy had brought a few apples that they had taken from the fruit and salad cart during lunch. There were thirteen of the noble creatures, so they both carried seven apiece; one for each horse, and one for them to share. After all, they didn't want any of the horses to feel left out.

"When do we get to ride the horses?" Matthew asked his friend.

"It's usually scheduled," Bob said, flashing him a grin, "it's part of our Biology course. There's a ton of trails all through the woods, and each class gets to ride once a month. There's eighteen horses, so they have seventeen kids ride with one teacher for part of the period, then switch off. Afterwards, we all help out with the grooming. It's one of the best classes!"

As they neared the rickety wooden fence that surrounded the stables, Matthew realized that he had no idea how to groom a horse. He didn't want to look stupid in front of the other boys if he was chosen for grooming, and now would be the perfect time to ask Bob about it.

"Hey Bob, how do you groom a horse?"

Bob chuckled.

"Well, there's like, four different brushes that you have to use. First, you water them down with the hose, then you use this thing called a curry brush to brush their coats. Then, you use another brush to get all the dust off. When that's done you use a body brush on their faces and legs, and then you comb their manes. When that's all done, you pick all the crud out of their hooves."

"Oh," Matthew said.

It sure sounded like a lot of work. Matthew liked the horses and he would love to have a chance to groom them, but he didn't want to mess something up and have the other boys laugh at him – or worse, to have the horse suffer because of his ignorance. Quietly, Matthew and Bob stood closely together. Bob could sense that Matthew was feeling a little down.

"It's pretty easy. Come on, I'll show you how to do it now so you'll be ready on Sunday."

Because his arms were full of apples, Bob used his elbow to lift the latch on the wooden fence, and the two boys stepped inside. After Matthew gently closed the gate with his foot so as not to frighten the horses, they placed their apples on an old wooden bench that sat beneath a large maple tree, and then made their way to the main stables.

The alley doors were opened slightly, and as they stepped inside, Matthew could hear something in one of the empty stalls at the opposite end. It sounded like a soft, steady slapping sound, and was broken by an occasional muffled moan. The hair on the back of Matthew's neck stood up as images of monsters crept into his head.

He turned to look at Bob, and saw that his friend was equally surprised. Matthew mouthed the words 'what is that' to Bob, who raised an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders. Bob held a finger to his lips and motioned for Matthew to follow him quietly. They crept down the center, passing stalls on their left and right that held horses. The sounds became louder as they approached, and when they came to the empty stall at the end, they peeked around the corner to look inside.

There were two boys in the far corner, one looked about twelve, and the other was perhaps sixteen. The two boys had their pants down around their ankles; the younger boy was bent over and had his hands tightly gripping the edge of the hay stack. The older boy stood directly behind with his hands on the younger boy's shoulders, thrusting himself against the boy's backside. The younger boy was grunting, and the slapping sounds were coming from their skin making contact with each thrust.

"Hey, did you hear that?" the younger boy said, trying to turn his head far enough to look.

"Hear what?" asked the older boy, not breaking his rhythm.

"I think I heard someone."

"It's just the 3;ahhh 3;horses," the older boy moaned.

"Well hurry up, I don't like doing this here."

Matthew and Bob stayed hidden behind the stable door as they watched the two boys. Bob's hand went to his mouth as he stifled a giggle, but Matthew was confused. Why would two boys be alone in the stables with their pants down? And why was the one boy bumping against the other? It looked to him like some weird game, where one boy was trying to ride the other like a pony.

The older boy let out a groan and stopped pumping his hips. His butt muscles clenched, then his hips began to vibrate quickly. After a moment, the older boy collapsed upon the younger, putting his arms around him and lying his cheek against the younger boy's back. The younger boy quickly stooped down and pulled his pants up. When the older boy turned, Matthew could see that his penis was standing straight up and seemed wet on the tip.

Bob grabbed Matthew's shoulder, almost making him jump in surprise. He motioned with his head for them to leave the stables, and Matthew followed closely behind. He still didn't understand what they were doing, but it seemed like something secret, and he didn't want them to catch him watching.

As they stepped back out into the cool evening, Matthew heard the younger boy telling the other to 'hurry up and get outta here'. Their hearts racing in their chests, Bob and Matthew hurried around the side of the stable and ducked behind the maple tree. A second later, the two boys, now both fully dressed, slinked out of the stables and headed up the path towards the gym. Once they were safely out of sight, Bob giggled.

"I didn't know Mike and Lukas went that way."

"You know them?" Matthew asked feeling confused, "and what way 3;what were they doing? "

"Riding," Bob answered with a mischievous smile, "didn't you see them pounding away in there?"

"Yeah, but what were they doing?"

Bob giggled again and shook his head.

"Nothing, I'll tell you about it some other time. Come on, we should feed the horses and get back. I wanna take a quick look at something first, though."

Matthew was annoyed that Bob wasn't filling him in on the strange thing the boys had been doing, but he gathered up the apples and followed Bob inside anyway. He was sure it was about sex, a very mysterious thing for him and did not want to seem too interested.

Bob dumped his apples on the inside table, then walked back to the stall at the far end of the stables. He went to where the boys had been, then bent down and studied the floor. Matthew followed and saw a few drops of liquid on the dusty floor amidst a few strands of hay. Bob chuckled and shook his head.

"Mike and Lukas, who knew? Gross"

Matthew was getting irritated at Bob, so he turned back to feed the nearest horse. The brown buckskin quarter horse sniffed the apple in Matthew's hand, then bit off half of it. Matthew turned the apple and the horse took the rest of it.

"Is it okay for them to eat the seeds and stem?"

"Yeah," Bob answered, "it's fine."

Matthew held another apple out to another horse, which hungrily accepted the gift. He wondered what the boys had been doing in the stall – it looked like they were having sex or something. Were they gay? Matthew had never met a gay person before, and the thought of putting his penis up somebody's dirty behind grossed him out.

The question bothered him the whole time they were feeding the horses. When they had finished, they bid the horses farewell and left the stables.

"Bob, were those boys having gay sex?"

Bob giggled and threw his arm around Matthew's neck, pulling him into a headlock.

"Yup. Don't worry about it, bro, some of the guys just like to do that kinda stuff."

"It sounds gross."

Bob laughed again.

"Yeah, but there's no girls around, are there? I guess if you get horny enough you'll hump anything."

"Like a Pringles can," Matthew said, smiling.

"Yeah, or a hole in the ground."

"Or a tree."

Both boys laughed at the mental image. The thought still bothered Matthew, but as they continued towards their dorms, he tried to push it from his mind. Tried 3;but without much success.

***

Miles Dunn          Shower Duty          21:00

Miles anxiously stared at his name on the duty board that was posted on the wall beside his dorm room. He was a little apprehensive about it, what with about a hundred boys strutting around wearing little to no clothing. True, it was almost a dream job, but it also made him nervous. What if he suddenly popped a boner in the middle of the room? What if he inadvertently did something inappropriate?

The hardest part would be trying to act normal; he had to watch the boys – that was part of the job, but what would be considered watching for too long? It would look very suspicious if he only glanced quickly at each boy, but ogling one of them for too long could be misinterpreted. Well, it actually wouldn't be misinterpreted, but might give away his sexual preferences 3;all hundred of them.

The noise from the dormitory that was usually music to Miles's ears was now unsettling to him; all the boys laughing, shouting, and carrying on as normal. If only they knew the internal struggle that Miles was dealing with. Excitement, mixed with nervousness, eagerness, desire, and a dash of contrition, all these and more were battling each other for control in his mind.

He glanced at the digital alarm clock through his open door: 8:47. In three more minutes, he would tell Melvin Furst, the prefect that was to assist him, to get ready. Then he would go to the shower room to turn on all the faucets. Mr. Lerher had discussed the process with him earlier that day; at ten till, the taps were to be pulled down to a twenty degree angle. This way, a self-regulating thermostat kept the water temperature at a cozy 120ºF. Miles was to make sure that the boys didn't touch the taps, since pranksters were known to leave the showers scalding or freezing for the next student.

At nine o'clock, Miles was to take his place in the doorway of the partition that separated the shower room from the changing room, while the prefect would go from room to room, hurrying kids to the showers. The boys would begin showing up wearing only their towels and shower sandals, and would wait in a line in the changing room for Miles to direct them to the first available shower. The boys were to hang their towels on the metal pegs that hung on the three-foot divider in the middle of the room, and shower in nothing but their sandals. No boys were allowed to wear bathing suits, since in the past the occasional shy child would refuse to remove his shorts and soon end up with ringworm.

Each boy was allowed up to five minutes to shower, then they would retrieve their towels and return to the changing room to dry off. Besides directing boys to empty shower stalls, Miles also had to keep an eye on the boys in the changing room to make sure that they didn't start causing mischief. If things got out of hand at any point, Miles could send a boy to fetch the prefect to assist him. Lerher warned him about some of the pranks the boys liked to play; snapping rear-ends with towels, hiding toiletries that belonged to other boys, and shower shoe fights being the top three.

He also mentioned an incident that happened on one of his own first shower duties. Some of the older boys collected a few frogs from the woods nearby and released them into the changing room, causing a huge ruckus with the younger students. While Lerher was being distracted by the shrieks of the boys while he tried to collect the frogs from the changing room, the older pranksters sneaked back into the shower room and stole all the towels that were hanging on the hooks. The ten boys that had been showering at the time had to wait in the changing room, nude, until other towels could be brought.

"Poor kids were mortified," Lerher had said, "but I couldn't leave my station to get them more towels. Once nine o'clock hits and the students start coming for their showers, you are not permitted to leave the area until all the boys have finished and left. If any boy loses his towel, he has to wait for the assistant prefect to fetch him another."

Miles hoped it wouldn't come to that. With luck, word of his experience in the military would have spread throughout the dorm by now, and the boys wouldn't try anything. He wasn't counting on it though, and would do his best to keep an eye on the kids.

With all the showers on, a light steam began to carpet the floor. Miles took his place in the opening between the shower and changing room, leaning against the thin metal partition with one leg propped up and his arms crossed over his chest. Melvin was sending students to the showers, and within a minute, he could hear the sound of the students approaching the changing room. Here goes nothing, Miles thought, glad that he had rubbed one out in his room before coming here.

The first group of boys entered the changing room, each carrying a small plastic toiletry basket and clad in towels and sandals. Heading the pack of boys was Sean Parks, the fourteen-year-old practical joker that had feigned having his head bumped against the door during wake-up the previous morning. Beneath his short black haircut, a rascally grin lit up the boy's face when he saw Miles.

"Hey Mister Dunn," the boy said as he approached the shower room.

"Hello Sean, how's your head?"

The boy chuckled as he passed.

"You're first, so pick any shower you want," Miles said, sweeping a hand around the room.

"Gee, d'ya think there'll be enough room for me?"

As he said this, Sean grabbed his crotch through the towel around his waist and gave it a couple shakes. Miles shook his head as he watched the boy open the towel and hang it up on one of the hooks. The boy hadn't been far off – beneath a small patch of dark pubic hair swung a rather large cock. Sean walked to the nearest shower on the right, placed his plastic bucket on the floor, and started to rinse himself off under the steaming spray of water, his dark skin glistening. Miles, realizing that he was doing exactly what he had told himself not to, forced himself to look away from the sizable penis and turned to look at the next boy.

"Hiya Mistew Dunn."

"Hi Ryan, doing okay?"

"Yeah."

The adorable nine-year-old dropped his towel before entering the shower room. Miles glanced at the boy's hairless little penis as the boy walked past him, and continued to watch the cute, bouncing bum as Ryan chose the shower to the left, across from Sean. The next boy in line was one that Miles hadn't met before; a boy with curly blond hair and beautiful hazel eyes. The boy looked to be about twelve, and he gave Miles a shy smile as he passed by. He removed his towel to reveal one of the most perfect bums Miles had ever laid eyes upon. Silky smooth thighs led up to his nicely sized penis, which was neatly cut. From his place in the doorway, Miles could just make out the first few wisps of pubic hair on the boy's mound. I'm going to have to learn that boy's name, Miles thought as the boy took the shower beside Sean.

Next up was an older boy, a dark-haired young Adonis that appeared to be about sixteen. He had steely blue eyes and his chest and abs were nicely chiseled, a testament to the fact that he probably did about fifty crunches every day. He nodded his head in acknowledgment as he walked confidently past Miles, and dropped his towel at the rack to reveal a decently sized cock, surrounded by a healthy patch of pubes. When he turned, Miles had a chance to see his butt, which matched his abs as far as muscular development. He walked down to the far end of the room, taking the last shower on the right.

A boy of about fifteen came next; a red-haired boy with green eyes and freckles covering his entire face. He greeted Dunn with a simple 'hello', then strode into the shower room. When he opened his towel, Miles saw that his butt was covered in freckles, just like his face. His cock was long and thin, with a small patch of reddish pubes that matched his hair, and very low-hanging balls. He picked up his toiletry basket and took the middle shower to the left, leaving both sides empty beside him.

"Hey, Mister D," came a voice from beside him.

Miles turned to see a slightly chubby boy with light brown hair standing beside him. The boy held his hand out for Miles to shake, which resulted in his towel dropping down around his legs. Miles caught a quick glimpse of the boy's hairless cock, which looked small above his swollen looking scrotum. He couldn't help grinning as the boy struggled to close his towel before offering his hand again. Miles shook it and the boy graced him with a smile before passing by and taking the shower beside Ryan.

A dark-haired boy with a light dusting of freckles came next. He looked about thirteen and as he walked past Miles, he didn't give any greeting or sign of acknowledgment. When his towel came off, Miles saw his fairly thick cock beneath a small bush of pubic hair. The boy has a very nice ass though, very round and supple. Strong thighs and a nice chest, too. He took the shower at the end on the left.

A short boy was the next in line, one with a round face, reddish-brown hair, and a pair of black glasses. He appeared to be about ten, and had a worried look on his face. As he walked into the shower room, he removed his glasses and handed them to Miles.

"Can you hold these for me, please?"

"Sure buddy," Miles said as he slid them into his front pocket.

The boy walked to the rack in the middle of the room and after glancing at the other boys showering, he quickly removed his towel and scurried over to the last open shower on the left. His butt was big and bubbly, and jiggled as he ran. He was hairless and circumcised, but had a little extra skin that was bunched up beneath the dark pink head. He timidly began to rinse himself, working as quickly as possible as though he was trying not to be noticed.

"What's the hurry, Crybaby?" the dark-haired boy beside him asked.

Miles thought about saying something, but the instigator turned away and left the mousy boy to finish showering. A tall, thin boy of about fifteen or sixteen walked past Miles with his head down. He had dark brown, curly hair and buck teeth, and his cock was of average length, but thin, like the fat pencil of a Kindergartner. As he took the shower to the right beside the young Adonis, Miles saw that his bum was a bit flat, and his chest had an indented sternum.

The changing room was filling up now, and the air became thick with shouting and laughter as the boys waited patiently in line. Miles turned to the next boy in line, a young student that looked about ten.

"There's still one shower left on the right," Miles said.

The blond boy nodded and walked past Dunn, dropping his towel to unveil his springy young cocklet and perfectly formed ass. As the boy made his way to the last open shower, he stumbled over the toiletry basket of the boy with beautiful hazel eyes, spilling the contents across the slick concrete floor.

"Hey, watch it twerp!" the owner shouted.

The two blonds both bent to retrieve the soap container and bottles of shampoo and conditioner, and Miles caught a quick glimpse of the younger boy's bum hole which was light pink, puckered, and looked absolutely wonderful. This sight alone would provide Miles with enough fapping material for the following week.

Things were begging to get rowdy in the changing room, one of the older boys had removed his towel and was using it to snap the asses of some of the younger boys. Another boy, his obvious cohort, was sneaking up behind the boys and yanking their towels down so his friend could hit the bare flesh. Although Miles was thoroughly enjoying the way the older boy's cock bounced around as he flicked the towel – not to mention the sight of the hairless cocklets, and smooth, round bums of the younger boys as their towels were snatched away, he had to put a stop to it.

"Hey," he shouted as he took a few steps into the changing room, "knock it off!"

The towel snapper stopped and looked up at him. He gave Miles a guilty grin as he folded his towel back around his waist.

"Sorry sir," the boy said.

Miles returned to his post as one of the younger boys approached him. The boy was about nine or ten and had the face of an angel. He was dragging his towel behind him, completely unashamed of the fact that he was totally naked in front of so many others.

"Hi Mister Dunn," the boy said as he stood before Miles.

"Hi, what's up?"

"Are you really an Army soldier?"

"Marine," Miles replied with a friendly smile.

"Oh wow, that's really cool! My oldest brother has a friend that joined the Army and he gets to wear a cool uniform and everything. When he came home from his training thing he told us about all the guns he got to shoot, and it sounded like a lot of fun."

The nude boy couldn't seem to stand still while he talked, and was constantly raising one foot up before switching to the other and swishing his towel around his legs. His smooth cocklet sprang around whenever the boy switched feet, which Miles found to be the cutest thing.

"Oh yeah? How old is your brother?"

"Well, he's nineteen. I have three brothers and one sister; my other brothers are," at this point the boy took a deep breath before continuing, "sixteen, thirteen, and my sister is seven. And we have two dogs and two cats, too. My dogs are called Sadee and Kreigger, and my cats are called Jake and Splat. Guess why he's called Splat?"

"Why?"

"Because when he was a kitten he had real bad diarrhea, and like, everybody in the house would always step in it and it would go splat!"

The brown-haired boy laughed and Miles laughed along with him. The kid was certainly a talker, which Miles found to be very charming and utterly endearing. He had the most adorable laugh, too, one that was contagious. He also had the largest, most innocent looking blue eyes, which Miles could have become lost in forever. But he had a job to do and he had to keep checking that all went well inside and outside the shower room without being too bossy, even if Furst seemed quite competent.

"So did you get to shoot lots of guns in the Marines?"

"I sure did, maybe I'll tell you about it sometime."

"Yeah, that would be cool. Guns are awesome, except I'm not allowed to shoot any of them. My dad has, like, six guns, and my brother has a shotgun that he uses for dove hunting. The one that's nineteen, my other brothers are still too young to get their own, but sometimes my dad lets them use his when they go hunting. But guess what?"

"What?"

"I have a BB gun that my dad got me for my tenth birthday. It's a rifle kind and it has this thing around the trigger that you have to pump to make it shoot. It's pretty hard to do it, though, except my brothers all say that it's easy for them. Did you have a BB gun when you were a kid?"

"Yes, I did when I was about your age," Miles said, "and that pump thing is called a cocking lever."

"Cocking lever," the boy repeated, "yeah, that's what it's called. I just forgot."

In the shower room, Sean was just finishing up his shower. He returned to the rack to reclaim his towel, which he wrapped around his waist, then walked past Miles to dry off in the changing room.

"See ya later, Mister Dunn," Sean said.

"Okay, later buddy."

Although Miles wished he could converse with the nude young talker forever, a shower had opened up and it was his job to direct the boys to the showers. He pointed out the free shower to the boy with the cat named Splat.

"There's an open shower for you, buddy."

The boy turned to look at the shower, and then turned back towards Miles.

"No thanks," the boy dismissed it, "what did you do in the Marines?"

The young boy took a step backwards to allow the next student in line to claim the shower, and then stepped forward again to continue talking to Miles.

"I was an Intelligence Officer with the Sixth Marine Regiment," Miles said.

"Oh cool. Um, what does an Intelligence Officer do?"

"Well, I deployed around the world and gathered information about the people living in different areas. I helped collect information about enemies, too."

"That's awesome! Did you get to shoot any bad guys?"

Miles couldn't help laughing. Naturally, every boy always wanted to know the same thing: whether he had shot or killed anybody. It was a very personal question, one that was extremely sensitive; and although Miles found this boy delightful, he didn't think it was proper to tell the truth in this situation. Better to leave the question open for the boy to make up his own mind.

"Maybe I'll tell you about that when you're a little older, bud."

"Darnit, that's the same thing my brother's friend always says. Except I know he didn't shoot anybody yet, since he just came back from boot camp this summer, before school started, and my brother said he was more of a pencil pusher. What does that mean?"

The kid stopped bouncing from foot to foot, and instead squatted down, and looked up at him. He placed his towel over his head so that it draped down his sides, wearing it like the veil of a nun. Miles couldn't help snatching the occasional glance at the cute penis and scrotum that dangled below the boy, nor the hint of a bum hole that was just beyond his view.

"A pencil pusher is somebody that does a clerical job instead of a combat type of job."

"Oh," the boy said as he started to rock side-to-side, "what does clerical mean?"

Miles laughed again.

"It means that he works in an office doing administration things."

"Okay," the boy smiled up at him, "it sounds kind of boring. I think I would like doing your job better."

"Yes, I agree."

The young Adonis had finished his shower, and after collecting his towel, he stood in the doorway, waiting for the young talker to move. The younger boy either didn't see him or didn't care, because he stayed put in his squatting position. The older boy sighed and stepped over the younger boy, his large testicles grazing the top of the boy's head. The younger child didn't seem to notice or care, and went right on talking as another student struggled to slide past him to take the open shower.

"When I grow up, I want to join the Army. Or maybe the Marines. But I want to do a job like you did, not like my brother's friend. Did you go to Saint Xavier when you were a boy?"

"No," Miles answered, I never had the honor. I went to a Public School before joining the Marines."

"Oh, so you didn't get to live at your school. Was it fun?"

"It was okay," Miles said, then bent to whisper conspiratorially, "but between you and me, I think I would have rather gone to school here than at the public school."

Miles had bent to whisper this to the boy, but that wasn't the only reason. He had also bent so that he could briefly get a better view of the boy's bum hole beneath that captivating cocklet. It was small, pink, and breathtaking.

"Do you like it here?"

"Yes," Miles said as he rose, "it's nice here. The school is really pretty and the boys are all very friendly."

The boy grinned from ear to ear, and then he suddenly sprang up, leaping into the air with his arms outstretched before landing and resuming his little foot-to-foot shuffle.

"Yeah, it's pretty cool. I'm glad you're here, too."

The sentiment melted Miles's heart. Out of the mouths of babes, he thought.

"Why thank you, I'm glad to be here."

Ryan finished showering and as he walked between Miles and the young talker, he smiled and waved.

"Bye Mistew Dunn."

"See you around, buddy."

The next boy in line, one that looked about twelve or thirteen, slid around the talker and took his place beneath the shower head. Miles glanced at his smallish penis and the bush of pubic hair above it before returning his attention to his new little friend.

"Didja get to see the horses yet?"

"I did. I also get to go horseback riding on Sunday with a few students."

"That's awesome!" the boy said with a huge grin, "I love horses. My favorite one is this tan horse called Prickly Pete. He's really pretty."

"Are you staying over the weekend? Maybe you can come riding with us."

"No, my parents are coming to pick me up. I have to go to my brother's stupid play"

"That's okay, maybe next time."

"Yeah! I'd love that!"

At the word love, the boy hopped into the air with excitement. The cutie's enthusiasm made Miles chuckle. He couldn't get over just how adorable this boy was. The red-haired boy that had been showering finished and walked between them to dry off in the changing room, and Miles's young friend decided that it was finally his turn to shower.

"I guess I'd better go take my shower now," he said as he gave a final bounce from one foot to the other, "I had fun talking to you. I hope I can do it again soon."

"Me too, buddy."

The young talker walked into the steamy shower room, tossing his towel underhand towards the hook rack. The towel missed its mark by a wide margin, and the boy left it piled on the floor as he made his way to the free shower. Miles suddenly realized that throughout all the talking they had done, he didn't know the child's name.

"Hey buddy," he shouted over the sound of the water, causing everybody in the shower room to turn and face him, "I didn't catch your name."

The other boys returned to their showers and the young talker gave Miles a huge, friendly grin.

"Sorry, I forgot," the boy shouted back, "It's Logan!"

Logan. Miles would have to remember the name. He had to admit, the conversation with Logan had been one of the most enjoyable he had in a long time, and certainly one of the best since he had come to Saint Xavier.

From the shower room came several groans of disgust. Miles turned to look into the room and saw that the dark-haired name-caller on the far left end was erect, his thick thirteen-year-old cocklet rising from the soapy patch of pubic hair. He had his hand wrapped tightly around his cock and was rubbing it vigorously. The other boys in the showers looked away with revulsion and the timid young boy that had been called "Crybaby" was backing away in horror. He quickly gathered up his toiletries and hurried over to his towel, soap suds still covering half his body.

"Hey, don't look at me while you're doing that," one of the pretty young blonds said with a look of contempt.

"Shuddup, ya'll know ya do it too," said the young masturbator with a pitiless grin.

As much as Dunn may have liked to watch the exhibition, he couldn't let the kid jerk off in the shower. It was quite improper, and it was his responsibility to put an end to it.

"Hey," he said as he took a step into the steamy room, "quit doing that."

The kid shot him a mean-looking smile but didn't stop. Instead, he seemed to rub himself even more furiously. The timid boy rushed past Miles to dry off in the changing room, forgetting to collect his glasses. Miles took another couple steps into the room and pointed at the wanking boy, putting on his 'don't mess with me' face.

"You! Stop that right now!"

"Too late," the boy said as his grin widened.

The kid gave himself a final rub and planted his hand at the base of his cock. A look of elation passed over his face as he gently squeezed himself. A second later, the penis started jumping in his hand and a few drops of cum shot out the tip, spattering in a puddle on the floor.

"Aaaah," the kid said contentedly.

Miles strode over to the boy and grabbed the kid's bare shoulder firmly. He pulled the kid out of the shower stream and pushed him towards the towel rack in the center of the room.

"You're done, get out."

As the kid grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist., Miles bent and collected the boy's toiletries, jamming them unceremoniously into the plastic carrier. He followed the boy out of the shower and deposited the carrier on the floor in the changing room. The kid, holding the towel closed with one hand, grabbed his carrier up angrily. The other boys in the line gave him a wide berth, which left Miles with the impression that the kid must be a well-known troublemaker.

"I'll have to report that little exhibition to the Headmaster, kid."

"Fucker," he muttered as he turned away.

"What was that?"

The boy turned and flashed him another ruthless grin before leaving the changing room, heading back to his dorm dripping water all over the hallway. Miles watched the little bastard stalk away, then turned back to his spot in the doorway. He would discuss the boy's insubordination with the headmaster tomorrow morning, and recommend a standard punishment; work detail in the morning, and mandatory study hall during free time for the following week. "M 3;Mister Dunn?"

Miles's thoughts were interrupted by a gentle tapping on his arm. He turned and saw the timid boy standing beside him, now dry.

"Hey buddy," Miles said.

"Can I have my glasses please?"

"Oh, sure bud."

Miles reached into his pocket and retrieved the boy's glasses. The nervous looking child thanked him and put them on.

"What was that kid's name?" Miles asked before the boy could leave.

"Who, him?"

The boy pointed at the open doorway that the dark-haired kid had stormed through.

"Yeah."

"Oh, that's Grayson. He's a bully."

"Grayson what?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders.

"I dunno, he picks on me and steals my canteen snacks so I try to stay away from him."

"Good idea," Miles said, "if he does it again come to me, okay?"

"Okay."

"Could you find Furst and send him here for me, please?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

The timid boy managed to work up a half-smile, then quickly turned and left. Poor kid, Miles thought, just let that little shit mess with him again. I'll 3; what? What would he do exactly? Give him another detention? Call the kid's parents? Miles already planned on talking to the headmaster, but he had a feeling that it wouldn't do much to stop the kid. Chances were the boy was already established as a troublemaker, yet he still continued to show defiance. Miles would have to think more on what to do about the little bastard; and he was going to mark the incident down as soon as the shower period was over.

He would worry about it later, right now he had about eighty more naked boys to see. Miles directed the next boy in line into the shower room, an athletic looking twelve year old with shaggy blond hair. The kid lifted an eyebrow and gave him a quizzical look as he shook his head.

"Nuh uh, I'm not using that shower."

"Take the one next to it, that one's fine."

The boy looked uncertain, but he stepped into the shower room and hung his towel on the rack. Miles was graced with a quick glimpse of a very nice looking penis with a few blond pubic hairs above it, then the boy turned and he got a good view of the boy's beautiful round cheeks. There was a small birthmark on the boy's right bum cheek, a fading reddish splotch about two inches long. The boy stepped beneath the spray, staying as far to the left as he could to avoid the 'tainted' shower.

Miles tried to get the next few boys to take the last shower on the left, but none of them would have it. Word had spread through the line of what had taken place and all the boys chose to wait for another open shower instead of risking the chance of accidentally stepping in the cum puddle and 'getting AIDS', as they put it.

"It's fine," Miles reassured them, "by now everything has washed down the drain. You're not going to get AIDS."

Still, the boys wouldn't go near the shower. Miles sighed, with one shower out of commission it was going to take longer for the students to finish. There was only an hour to filter all the boys through the showers and Miles didn't want to finish late on his first shower duty. It would make him look bad, like he couldn't handle the kids.

Melvin Furst came into the changing room and walked over to Miles.

"You wanted to see me, Mister Dunn?"

"Yes, can you tell me the last name of Grayson? He's about thirteen, dark hair, freckles 3;"

"Grayson Driscoll. He's kind of a bully, did he do something wrong?"

"Yes, he was insubordinate. I'm going to have a little chat with the headmaster about him tomorrow."

"Oh, okay."

A smile crept over Furst's lips. Apparently, Melvin didn't seem to care much for the little bastard either. Miles thanked the prefect and dismissed him to return to his duties.

Miles got to see a few more nude boys, all of varying ages, shapes, and sizes. Then, he saw Matthew step through the doorway. The boy looked absolutely stunning adorned in nothing but his light blue towel. Miles had forgotten all about the beautiful boy after the masturbation incident, and now his heart fluttered at the thought of seeing Matthew without anything on.

Matthew was flanked on either side by a small group of friends; one was a very tall boy that looked about sixteen or so. The boy was talking excitedly to another boy with shaggy brown hair. The younger boy looked to be about the same age as Matthew, with blueish-gray eyes and a friendly smile. To Matthew's right was another boy that looked about thirteen. This boy was Oriental and slightly overweight. Miles watched as the tall boy said something that made the others laugh. Good, Miles thought, I'm glad he's made some nice friends.

As more students were directed to their showers and the four friends moved closer, Miles felt his heart beating faster. It wouldn't be long now until it was Matthew's turn to shower. He would have to try extra hard not to stare while the boy showered, even though he had been waiting for the moment since his first day. Hopefully, the few glimpses he could snatch would be enough to satisfy him later on that night, and tomorrow morning as well.

As the boys came closer, the brown-haired boy suddenly stepped out of line. He yanked his towel off to reveal a very nice looking cocklet, which was totally hairless. The boy spread his legs apart and placed his hands behind his head, then began to hump his hips back and forth, making his penis flop up and down. It made little slapping noises every time it smacked against his smooth mound, which elicited laughter from the other boys that were waiting in line.

The tall boy laughed and gave him a shove. The boy with brown hair stumbled backwards a couple steps, then wrapped his towel back around his waist and got back into the line. The older student called him a dork and the Oriental boy rolled his eyes while Matthew 3;ah, sweet Matthew, was laughing. The sight warmed Miles's heart; such a contrast from the boy's first day at the school. It was so nice to see the kid happy among his new buddies, sharing in their boyish antics.

Matthew turned and caught sight of him. The boy, still giggling, raised his hand in greeting.

"Hey, Mister Dunn."

"Hey Matthew, these your friends?"

"Yeah," Matthew answered.

The tall boy stepped towards Dunn and offered his hand while he held his towel closed with the other. Miles shook it and was pleased to find that the boy had a nice, firm grip; the kind of grip that assured him that Matthew was in good hands.

"Hiya Mister Dunn, I'm Walt. They call me 'The Mountain' though."

"Yeah," said the brown-haired penis-flapper, "because his head is thick as a rock."

Walt gave the boy a playful shove and motioned towards the Oriental boy.

"This is Ke, and the annoying loudmouth is Johnny. Don't pay any attention to him, his mom dropped him on his head when he was a baby."

"Nice to meet you all," Miles said.

Johnny shoved Walt back but laughed at the remark.

"His mom dropped him too," Johnny joked, "but it broke the floor."

"One a' these days, Johnny boy, you're gonna wake up tied to a tree."

"Yeah, and then I'll train the squirrels to attack you."

Johnny tucked his upper lip up against his gums and chittered like a squirrel. Walt rolled his eyes and grinned. He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered to Dunn, loud enough for the others to hear.

"You see what I gotta put up with?"

Miles chuckled. In the shower room, another shower opened up and Miles nodded towards it.

"Shower's free for you Walt."

"Thanks Mister Dunn, nice meeting you."

"You too, buddy."

The tall boy strode into the shower and hung his towel up on a hook. His penis was large enough to make a grown man turn green with envy. He had a large bush of pubic hair above, as well as below on his scrotum. His cock swung back and forth lazily as he walked to the open shower and began shampooing his hair. There was no doubt in Miles's mind that it could very possibly be over ten inches long when erect.

Another shower opened up and Johnny removed his towel before walking into the room. As he walked towards the rack, he shook his butt with every step, causing the boys to laugh once again. Kid's got a great ass, Miles thought as he watched the boy strut to the shower and start working up a soapy lather in his hands.

Ke went next, dropping his towel to reveal a healthy-sized cock dangling between his smooth legs. It wasn't overly big, just average sized for a thirteen year old; but most chubby boys tended to have small penises, so the size surprised Miles. Ke's bum was very nice and round as well. Not too bad, Miles thought as he turned back to Matthew.

"So, you having a better time here at Saint Xavier now?"

"Yeah, those are my roommates and they're really nice."

"That's good, Matthew, I'm glad to see you getting along well with them. You've made friends with that soccer player too, haven't you?"

"Yep, Bob. He's, like, my new best friend. He's the best soccer player here, too."

"That's great, bud, I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks," Matthew said with a shy smile.

The 'tainted' shower was still empty, and Matthew nodded towards it.

"There's an open shower, Mister Dunn."

"Err 3;yeah, well, there was a little incident with that shower earlier."

"Incident?"

"Yeah, um 3;one of your fellow students sort of 3;relieved himself in that shower."

"He peed in it?"

"Not exactly, he uh 3; enjoyed himself a little too much."

Matthew looked confused for a minute, and then a look of understanding washed over his face.

"Oh," he said, "you mean he uh 3;"

Matthew made a jerking off motion with his hand and Miles nodded.

"Yeah, that's what I meant."

Matthew frowned and looked at the shower. He seemed to think something over, and then shrugged his shoulders.

"Well it's gotta be washed down the drain by now. I can use that one, if it's okay."

"Yeah Matthew, you can use it if you want. The other boys didn't want to go near it, but you're welcome to it."

"That's silly, it's not like you can catch anything from a shower."

"Yeah," Miles said, "it's fine."

Matthew stepped through the threshold into the shower room, and Miles watched with bated breath as the boy removed his towel. The first thing he saw was one of the most perfect bums he had ever seen. Perfectly smooth and slightly bubbly; neither too big nor too small. Flawless, one might say, without an equal match on this earth. The boy's creamy thighs were slightly muscular with all the running he did on the soccer field, the picture of absolute perfection.

Matthew turned slightly and Miles finally had a chance to see what he had been hoping for; the most wonderful penis on the planet. Hairless and neatly circumcised with a perfect length, perfect width, and perfectly smooth balls underneath that formed a flawless upside down heart. Though it was not his preferred asset, Miles could spend hours, days, weeks, studying that immaculate tool which was unparalleled. Imagine how stunning it must look when it's erect, Miles thought hungrily.

Miles watched as Matthew stepped beneath the shower head. He felt a small lurch in his boxers as Matthew lifted his chin and let the hot water wash over his smooth body. The water splashed against his chest and ran down his pearly legs in tiny rivulets. My God, he thought as Matthew started to gently slide his hands over his body, there is no creature in the world that can rival the beauty of this perfect angel.

Matthew picked his body wash out of his toiletry basket and squeezed a little bit into the palm of his hand. After working it into a lather, he began rubbing it on his skin. When he touched his penis with his soapy hand and started washing it, Miles could feel his own cock twitch. Watching the boy shower felt so sensual to Miles, so natural. There was nothing else that existed that Miles would rather see; the hairless penis bouncing slightly as Matthew passed his hands over it, the balls jiggling softly as the boy scrubbed his velvety scrotum, it was pure bliss. This image will be seared into Miles's brain; tonight's activities would provide him with an eternity of erotic material.

Matthew finished with the body wash and lifted his head to allow the warm water to splash against his chest and wash the suds off his slender body. Realizing that he had been gawking at the boy, Miles quickly turned his attention back to the few remaining boys in the changing room. There was only a dozen or so left, patiently waiting their turns in their towels. One or two were rather attractive looking, but neither one could hold a candle to Matthew's stunning beauty.

The four friends finished their showers and walked back into the changing room with their towels wrapped around their waists. They were back to teasing each other and horsing around as they headed to their dorm room. The brown-haired boy named Johnny turned before walking through the doorway and waved at him.

"See ya, Mister Dunn," he said with a friendly smile.

"See you, Johnny."

Miles directed four more boys into the shower room, allowing himself a quick glimpse of each one's bum. He was really enjoying the wonderful view of each student. The younger boys were all cute and perfectly smooth, while the older students were mostly fit and athletic due to the various sports that were offered at Saint Xavier. The majority of them were what Miles would have considered 'preppy'; the attractive children of the wealthy and powerful. There were also a small few that weren't very athletic, and Miles guessed that they were here mostly for the academics. But whether they looked like preppy jocks or book-smart nerds, they were all beautiful. It was a boylover's paradise.

After the last boy had left, Miles found his prefect helper and thanked him, then stepped into the shower room to turn off the taps. His first shower duty had gone off rather well, a few minor incidents notwithstanding. He felt that he could get used to this; having the chance twice a week to watch about a hundred boys wash for a half hour. He had been nervous about the duty at first, but now realized that he could do it – as long as he didn't take too much time staring at any one boy.

With the showers off, Miles tread carefully across the slippery tile. It wouldn't do for him to slip and crack his head open. On his way out of the changing room, he flipped off the light switch. The sounds of boys talking and laughing filled the hallway as he made his way to his dorm room. The energetic noise filled his heart with warmth, and a feeling of euphoria washed over him. He had never felt this happy before, maybe he had finally found his place in life.

As he rounded the corner, he found Matthew leaning against the wall outside his door. The boy was wearing a pair of pajamas with some large-headed blue cat cartoon on them. Cartoons sure look crappy these days, Miles thought as he mentally compared the modern cartoons with those of his own youth. As he approached, he could see that Matthew looked a little downcast.

"Hey Matthew, what's up?"

"Hey Mister Dunn," the boy said, "nothing much."

"You okay?"

"Yeah 3;" Matthew answered with a voice that sounded far from okay.

"Why the long face?"

Matthew shrugged his shoulders.

"I had my phone taken away in class today."

"I'm sorry, bud. Would you like to talk about it?"

"Okay."

Matthew followed him to his room. Miles stepped inside and turned on the light, then sat on his rack. Matthew sat beside him, turned inwards to face him. Miles caught himself looking at the crotch of the boy's pajamas for a second. He could picture in his mind that beautiful cocklet beneath the pajama pants, the smooth bum that was separated from his mattress by only a thin layer of material. He could feel a stirring in his loins, so he quickly pushed the image from his mind and raised his eyes to meet Matthew's face.

"So, you wanna tell me what happened?"

"Well," Matthew started, "me and Bob have been hanging out a lot. We pretty much spend all our free time together between classes, and sit by each other during meals. At the end of the day he would sometimes walk me to my dorm and sometimes I would walk him to his. We're just best friends like that."

"Go on," Miles prodded.

"Anyway we've been kinda texting each other after hours before we fall asleep, and sometimes in class, too. I hide my phone below my desk so the teachers won't see, but yesterday Mister Cruise saw me texting and took away my phone. I was in the middle of texting and I think he saw Bob's name on the text, because Bob said that Miss Simmons took his phone away during the next period."

"I see," Miles said, "probably wasn't a good idea to text in class, bud."

"Yeah, I know."

Matthew looked even more gloomy as he peered down at his feet. Miles's heart went out to the boy; wishing that he could do something to help. Perhaps he could talk to Mr. Cruise about it, try convincing him to let Matthew have his phone back as long as he promised not to text in class anymore. But no, he couldn't do that. Miles was the head of security, he didn't have the authority to do anything about a teacher's disciplinary actions. Plus, it would send Matthew the wrong message; that anytime he got into trouble with a teacher he could go to Miles and have him sort it out. No, as much as he wanted to help, he would have to let Matthew learn the hard way.

"How long is he going to keep the phone?"

"A week," Matthew said glumly, "and he's going to call my dad, too."

"I'm sorry Matthew. The week will pass in no time and you'll get your phone back."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Miles regretted saying them. He remembered what it was like to be a kid, where a week would seem like an eternity. It was something a typical adult would say to a child, forgetting what it was like to be a kid – something his father would have said.

"Yeah 3;" Matthew muttered.

Hoping to recover from the stupid cliché, an idea quickly popped into Miles's head. He might not be able to help Matthew get his phone back, but he could still try to cheer the boy up a bit.

"Matthew," he said, "you like the horses, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well it just so happens that I've been given the responsibility of checking out the perimeter at the edge of the school's property on Sunday after the morning chapel service, and Mister Daniels has asked me to take a few students along to ride the horses. We're going to start out after breakfast and ride the horses all morning, then have a picnic before returning to the campus. How would you like to go along?"

"Really?"

Matthew's face brightened at the mention of horseback riding, and Miles felt the burden on his heart lift a little.

"Yep. I'll even let you choose which horse you'd like to ride."

"Chief Thunder," Matthew said immediately, "Bob said that's the name of the big brown and white Appaloosa that I met on my first day here. He's the biggest horse in the stables."

Miles laughed.

"Alright, Chief Thunder it is. I'll put your name down on the list for Sunday. You know how to ride, don"t you?"

"Yep! D'ya think Bob can ride with us?"

"Sure," Miles said, "tomorrow you can ask him which horse he would like to ride and I'll add him as well."

"I already know which horse he would like," Matthew said with a grin, "Orcrist. He's the black one with the white spot on the bridge of his nose. He's the fastest horse at the school and has a younger brother named Glamdring."

"Alright, Chief Thunder and Orcrist. Maybe I'll see if your roommates would like to ride as well, they seem like a nice bunch."

"Yeah," Matthew chuckled, "they're cool. Johnny's the class clown of our group and Walt is like our big brother. And Ke knows all about electronics and stuff, he even built a radio out of a computer speaker and some copper wires. He can't change the radio station yet, but he said he's working on that next."

"Wow, he's pretty smart, huh?"

"Yeah. He likes to build radios in exchange for canteen snacks."

"Think he'd like to go riding with us?"

"I'm sure he would like to, but he goes home on weekends . Johnny would love to go, he really likes animals, and he knows everything about horses."

A strange look suddenly passed over Matthew's face. It looked like he wanted to say something but wasn't quite sure how to broach the subject.

"Me and Bob went to the stables to feed the horses some apples earlier and we saw 3;"

His voice trailed off.

"What did you see?"

Matthew's hands fidgeted nervously in his lap. He bit his bottom lip and glanced at the open doorway for a moment as if gathering his thoughts.

"It 3;well, we uh 3;"

"What is it bud?"

Matthew glanced back at the open door, and then shook his head.

"Nothing. The stables were just bigger than I thought."

Matthew was obviously hiding something. Miles didn't want to pressure the boy into talking though, or he might lose some of Matthew's trust. For now, he would accept the boy's answer and move on.

"Yeah, they are pretty big. They have to be in order to house eighteen horses. I'll bet it smelled in there too, huh?"

Matthew grinned his charming smile again.

"Yeah, it sure did."

Miles glanced at the clock; the digital display read 9:54. It was later than Miles had thought.

"Well bud, it's almost time for lights out. Why don't you head on back to your room and we'll talk more tomorrow. I'll put you and Bob down on the riding list for Sunday, and you can meet up with me before breakfast to let me know if any of your roommates would like to ride."

"Okay," Matthew said as he rose from the bed.

Miles stood up and followed him to the doorway. Matthew stepped through and turned to wave at him as he walked down the hall.

"G'night Mister Dunn."

"Night Matthew."

Miles watched the boy open the door and go into his room. After the door had been shut, Miles shut his own door. Lerher had night duty tonight, and he could hear the biology teacher making his rounds; opening the door of each student room to turn off the lights and bid them goodnight. Miles returned to his bed and lay back on it. He wondered what Matthew had been hinting at; what could he have seen in the stables that he wouldn't want to talk about? His first thought was that maybe he had seen two of the horses trying to mate, but they were all colts and geldings, and each was tethered to his own stable when they weren't grazing.

Miles didn't bother worrying about it too much, he had more pressing issues at hand. Seeing all those nude boys in the showers and the closeness of Matthew had made him very horny, and now that he was finally alone in his room, he could feel his cock beginning to stiffen in his shorts. He yanked down his shorts and wrapped his hand around his erect cock. As he masturbated, he closed his eyes and thought about all those cute little cocks and bums he had seen in the showers. Just before he came, he pictured Matthew in his mind, the water running down his smooth body and dripping off the tip of his smooth cock. The image caused Miles to erupt in a powerful orgasm, which shot his cum all the way up to his neck.

He wiped the cum off with a sock, then turned off his light and went to sleep, and his dreams were filled with happy young boys, nude and splashing around in a lake.

NEXT PART