Backwoodsman

The Institution

Chapters 5-8

Chapter 5
The Three

I eventually found my room again, but when I entered it was to find no bedding or anything else. During the day I had swung from having my heart in my mouth with the most acute embarrassment I hoped ever to bear, to moments of pure, unalloyed bliss as my body was given the most pleasurable sensations I had experienced in my thirteen years. I had endured pain. I had given pleasure. I had found a place where my natural desires were not just allowed, it seemed they were encouraged. And I thought I had found three people I could really like, or more than like. To find myself bereft of a place of my own after such swings of emotion made me suddenly dispirited and I sat on the bed.

A few minutes later the door opened and one of the monitors entered. He was one of the most unattractive of the bunch, I thought, having noticed him on the platform that morning. I couldn't put my finger on why I thought this – it just came to me. He gave me the usual sweeping glance from head to toe, his eyes lingering longest on my genital area. In fact he was so long in his appraisal of me that, even now almost being used to being given a second glance, I blushed. He leered at me. I had never known what the word meant before, but if the look he gave was anything, it was a leer.

"Come," he said, and leered again. He made room for me at the door and made sure I had to brush past him to get out. In fact he jutted his hips forward so that my side touched his fly. I shuddered. I had to go in front of him all the way through the building and could feel his eyes boring into my buttocks as they must have swung to and fro as I walked. I clenched them, but then couldn't walk so fast, so threw caution to the wind and loosened up, so making good speed. He barked "left" and "right" at some junctions, and I obliged, anxious to get my stern away from his sight even for a moment. At length he called "Stop by the door."

I did so, suddenly apprehensive again, especially knowing he was behind me. Do I turn and give him the sight of my front again, I wondered. Do I just stand here? What would make me feel less uncomfortable? I turned three-quarters to him, so depriving him of as much of my private parts as possible, looked over my shoulder, and said "what now?"

"Bedroom," he said tersely, and turned away. My relief was so great I almost sagged. The thought was forming in my mind to ask 'whose bedroom?' when he turned back and looked at me again.

"Nice bum," he said, and walked swiftly away. The only thing I wanted to do was to get my bottom, all of me, out of his sight, so I turned the handle and went in. There waiting for me, it seemed, were Colin and Jimmy.

After the greetings were over – they seemed genuinely pleased to see me – we compared notes about the afternoon. Theirs had been basically similar to mine. I didn't tell them about the extra lesson. That seemed too private, even after our shared experiences. Certainly, Jimmy had had his first orgasm, and I had not come under even greater 'provocation', but being in front of just the teacher and Billy, well 3; I thought on reflection I'd have to tell them, because it showed just what Mr. French expected, or thought normal in terms of behavior. But not tonight.

I looked around the room. There were three small cupboards, a window sans a curtain and one bed. It was a large bed, certainly, but only one. There were three of us. We'd not known each other before today. Since then I'd touched parts of them, and they of me. I'd only touched one other person, Chris. And in ways that even he and I had only just started to discover. Poor old Chris 3;

"We can go outside," said Colin eventually. Jimmy looked at me with dancing eyes.

"Ah, and Paul will wow us all with his body as it wobbles in front of him."

Damn. I'd forgotten. It felt so secure in here.

"It's all right, Paul. We'll both take our clothes off too."

It was Colin's turn to look askance. It wasn't actually so bad. By this time most of the other boys had seen me and seen what they wanted of me. Monitors stood around the fairly large compound, and as there were so many of us enjoying the balmy evening air their attention was diluted. In the distance I saw the ugly one who had admired me, and told the others about him.

"The guys in my class this afternoon have been here some time," said Colin, "and they say he's the worst. They all feel uneasy about him, and it sounds as if they're pretty used to nearly anything by now."

He wouldn't elaborate on this comment, but it sounded alarming to me. It passed Jimmy by. There was a swimming pool which most of the school seemed to be in, and being without clothes it was natural that we should jump in too as everybody skinny-dipped. We spent a long time in the pool, splashing around. In fact it was the most innocent, normal activity we had enjoyed that day. Eventually most people climbed out and lay on the ground to let the warm breeze dry them. Only a few stayed in, including us, for a short while, just to enjoy the freedom. Seeing my two companions in natural surroundings made their friendship more real. Jimmy was a fun character, light colored hair and one of those faces that is naturally pretty, about 5 ft [1.50 m] tall, slim and healthy looking. Anyone would want to put their arm round him, just for companionship's sake. Colin was darker, just under 5' 8" [1.70 m], similarly slim and healthy but with quite a broad, hairless chest. His long thighs were slim and hairless too, and there was just a thin covering of a few hairs on his calves. Naked, his crowning glory, for me at least, was swinging between his legs. It was not particularly large, but was in hindsight unusual in having an almost completely round glans hidden by his foreskin, almost without the usual flat area at the back. This picture was supported by testicles the size and shape of small plums which swung with a life of their own, and crowned by a triangle of thick, curly hair which end sharply about three inches [7½ cm] below his navel. It contrasted sharply with Jimmy's little organ, about two inches [5 cm] long, but with a good amount of foreskin spare in front which hinted at heavy growth to come, and a scrotum which was held close in to him, innocent of any bulges in it to show where testicles would soon be. He was completely devoid of hair there, of course, but on his arms and calves there was a sparse covering of short, delicate, light brown hairs which, when wet like now, and with the light shining from behind, made his bare limbs appear bejeweled. He was one of the most attractive boys I had seen, and although at school I hadn't really been attracted to juniors in the same way as my own age group, there were one or two who naturally qualified for the adjective 'beauty'.

All this I took in as we laid there side by side, gradually drying off first front, then back. Despite the nature of the purpose of the surroundings I felt completely at ease with them, and hoped nobody would try to split us up. If nothing else, I felt that I wanted to protect Jimmy, and wondered if Colin would feel the same about me.

A bell rang. "Dinner," shouted one of the others.

After dinner, and my supportive friends still kept me company in my nakedness, we were shown the library, which was surprisingly quite well stocked with youths' and children's literature. We each took a book of our choice, but unlike many of the others elected to read in our room. It had something to do with the library being public.

Jimmy was the first to yawn, although he was trying his utmost to last out as long as his friends. Eventually we chivvied him to bed, and sat one on either side of him, silently engrossed. Soon I was nodding too, having had a long, tiring and unusual day. I crawled in beside the youngster, who immediately woke, looked at me bleary eyed, smiled, and snuggled up to me. If it had happened anywhere else I would have drawn away to show that I wasn't that sort of person, but here I not only curled up to fit the curve of his body, but kissed him on the tip of his nose as well. He gave a sleepy giggle and closed his eyes. I looked back at Colin who had been watching. He gave an understanding smile, then remembered something.

"Foreskin?" he asked.

Damn. I was meant to leave it uncovered. Very gently, so as not to wake Jimmy again I eased myself back and peeled it. Perhaps because of Billy's treatment of it or just because I was a little more used to the sensation it didn't seem to hurt. I moved back toward Jimmy, my penis just touching him at waist level. He was still: the sharp sensation on my exposed, sensitive skin dulled quickly. Colin soon climbed in the other side, and it took a very little time for us all three to sleep.

The next morning we were woken by shouts of "Wake up! Wake up!" in foreign accents, so we knew the monitors were abroad. The other two told me that a shower was expected first thing every morning, and that nobody was allowed to wear any clothes until afterwards. We set off with a horde of others toward the shower rooms. This time it felt just as if we were all about to shower after a football match, quite normal in a way until you explored your thoughts and realized where you were. Nobody was clothed. Except the monitors, of course, who once again had so much to look at that their eyes were almost twisting out of their sockets.

There were lots of boys in the large shower room and the monitors lined the walls, as I had learnt almost to expect by this time. There were not enough shower heads to go round, so we had either to wait or to share.

"Come on. Let's all get under one."

Jimmy was anxious not to lose contact with his friends. So we decided that we would wash each other. Jimmy was first, and just stood there, legs apart, arms in the air, but his front firmly towards the monitors. He said afterwards that he hated to have the feel of their eyes on his bum when he couldn't see them. Colin started at his arms and head and I started at his feet. We met in the middle, and he giggled as we tickled him under the legs and on his genitals, something which in a normal sports shower I would have died before doing. I must admit that here we shielded what we were doing from the gaze of the others around us.

It was my turn next. I assumed the same position as Jimmy and walked into the water jets. Suddenly a terrific pain at the end of my penis: I had forgotten it was still uncovered and that there was a shower coming upward from the floor which had suddenly hit it. I said "Arghh!" and moved backwards quickly, treading on Colin's foot as I did so. The sensation was strange. My penis was unsure whether to signal an erection or to shrivel up and protect itself. It chose the latter course, and I was able to lick my fingers to provide enough lubrication to replace the skin to protect it.

They washed me, and as they worked down and up my body to meet in the middle, well, one of my swift erections was inevitable then. It was left to Colin to wash my genitals, and he very carefully and slowly did so, first my deeply pendulous scrotum and then the penis. I grew rock hard. Having rinsed me off, he very gently pulled back the foreskin again until I squirmed – my erection was still throbbing – and with his hands caught some water. Carefully he let it dribble out over my glans. The sensation was so intense that, erect as I was, I wanted to piss. Only a great amount of self control stopped my penis from directing a stream straight at his face.

Colin's turn came. I was amazed at just how much of him there was. He was taller and more solid that I would have thought possible. Jimmy was operating on his genital area, leaving me his round, muscular bum, which I washed circumspectly, avoiding the crack as he had avoided mine. There were some things that just didn't seem right to do, even here. I had just finished when I heard him gasp, and came round to his front to see that Jimmy had quickly 'skinned' him, and was washing his penis with soap and water. Colin was erect, but squirming, and continued doing so especially when the upcoming water jet struck the area as Jimmy moved his hands away. As quickly as possible he moved out of the way and rinsed his penis as he had rinsed mine.

"Give me warning if you're going to do that again, will you!" he exclaimed. "I'll do the same to you tomorrow and see how you like it! Just for that Paul can pull it back over again. But gently."

I struggled with it, on my knees in the shower in front of him, but try as I might it wouldn't go. And the more he struggled, the more aroused he became, and the more difficult still it was. I thought of Billy's trick with mine yesterday, but didn't dare to do it to Colin; he might be so disgusted that he wouldn't talk to me again. Eventually he said: "Oh, for goodness sake, just lick your fingers and make it slippery, will you? It'll go back then."

I did, and it did.

"If you'd been one of the blokes at school and you did that, I'd have got teachers running and made a fuss until they threw him out. But then I'd not have had it rolled back in the shower after a football game. But here, anything seems to go, and as it's you 3;" He tailed off. As it was me, what? Did that mean he really did feel something for me? Did he know how I viewed him? I felt a bit weak at the knees. What was happening? "Is yours sensitive, as well as mine?" I managed eventually.

"I imagine everyone's is, everyone who normally has it covered by a foreskin, that is."

Jimmy nudged me, and pointed. A monitor was watching us, intently. "He's been watching all the time," he whispered. We all looked at him, and he actually had the grace to blush and turn away under the weight of our three distasteful stares.

Monitors handed us towels. We dried, and padded back to the room. In it was Mr. French.

"You're meant to be spending most of the time 'skinned', boy. Why aren't you?"

I thought swiftly.

"I spent all night with it back, sir, and started off like that in the shower just now. But I forgot afterwards. Sorry."

And very carefully I pulled my foreskin right back, just to show him I could. He seemed pleased.

"I've been told that you two are choosing to accompany this new boy naked, presumably to make him feel less embarrassed. The reason he is naked is that he needs to get used to the idea of having no clothes when a crowd of people round him are wearing theirs. So in future, you two will wear clothes at all normal times for doing so. And you will go without clothes for a further day to make up."

He left. I looked glumly at my friends. Jimmy spoke first.

"We'll just have to go swimming more often."

As we had breakfast I remembered Blondie and his impending punishment, and wondered what they were going to do to him. Of the boy himself there was no sign. I hoped it was to be nothing too painful.

We filed into the big hall. I was the only naked one as usual, until I saw Blondie being pushed in at the back my some monitors. He looked strained and rather white, and apprehensive of the three large, ugly men that stayed at his back. The Principal went through some basic notices, including the fact that the morning would be spent in academic classes like yesterday afternoon, then paused.

"We have had our first ever real unpleasantness here," he started, and continued to list Blondie's crimes. "It doesn't matter who the subject was, except to say that he's now all right and even seems to have forgiven his aggressor. But this must be punished. Bring him forward."

A gasp sounded behind me. Blondie was being marched forward. All I could see was that a wide band of rubber was wrapped round the end of his erect penis which was being dragged down toward the floor by an extension of the rubber that led between his testicles, separating them widely, and back between his legs. His hands were free, but his efforts to free his genitals were having no effect. We opened up a path for the victim and the monitors, and once they were in front I could see what was happening and why he was walking so awkwardly. One of the monitors held onto the end of the rubber band and was pulling back on penis and testicles, while each of the others had his fingers firmly in the cleft of his bum and was squeezing the entire cheek in his hand to encourage him along. So this was punishment. How horrible! What can those disgusting men be thinking to agree to treat a boy like that? An escort would have been enough, and that unnecessary, but this was 3; disturbing.

They marched him up on to the platform where a chair had been placed, facing us. The Principal spoke to him.

"As your punishment for disobeying your teacher and me by masturbating having been told not to, this is the punishment we use. Sit down."

He sat. It was a narrow seat, more like a bench, so there was just enough support for his bottom but not his thighs, so the genital organs were left swinging in mid air. As he realised this, even from near the back we could see his confident, almost sneering face cloud over, and doubt and fear begin to register. From behind the chair legs, just below the seat, a monitor drew out spars, one either side, which had been hidden before. These went between the legs of the occupant, so preventing them from closing together. Another fetched two canvas straps. One went round his chest, and the other around his waist, securing him to the chair. By this time he was looking really frightened. He couldn't move anything except from the knees down, and those not a lot. The two men stopped, and looked at the Principal.

"Proceed," he said.

One of them knelt in front of the victim and fumbled with the boy's genitals. He gave a loud whimper and looked appealingly at the Principal.

We were all silent, appalled.

What the monitor was doing was what Mr French had done to me the day before. He was separating some of the thin pubic hair which grew from the testicles. He had, I think, six from each side. When he was ready and had a good grip, he slowly pulled. Blondie's right testicle elongated further and further, and a scream came from him as the hairs and his skin reached the limit of their stretch. Something had to give, and of course it was the hairs. Blondie subsided, sobbing. The same treatment was given to his left testicle, but knowing what was to happen this time he controlled himself to a sudden cry of pain as the tension became too much for the hairs and they gave way.

They released the band round his waist but left him sitting there, penis and testicles dangling, with, if possible, the opposite of an erection to deal with. He looked as if he had just come out of a freezing cold sea: his skin was white everywhere, not just his face.

The Principal spoke again. "The more serious charge is that you deliberately caused severe pain, quite deliberately to another boy. This is unacceptable. It has never happened here before, so we have no punishment ready made to deal with it. You must realise that such a crime deserves more of a punishment than that which you have just been given."

Blondie, by now really frightened, blubbered "but sir, he did forgive me, and I'm very sorry. I won't do it again 3;"

"Silence. It's too late for that now. We have to make sure you don't, and that nobody else does it either. You are aware, no doubt, that your punishment is being videoed. That is to be able to show others what happens to them if they start to show this regrettable behavior trend."

By this time he was sobbing uncontrollably, 15 years or no. I had a vision of what was going through his mind, because some of it had gone through mine the previous day as I was made to stand on the platform and remove my clothes for an unspecified reason. The prime concerns, once all the panic, the shaking, the disbelief that this is happening, can be put coldly like this:

Shall I be alive at the end of it?

Shall I still have a whole body at the end of it?

If they cut a bit off, shall I still be able to live?

Shall I faint with the pain before I lose a part of me or die?

Looking back, with the benefit of age and an unclouded view of events, it's easy to say that panic was unnecessary, was counter-productive. But when the mind is still developing and the body tender, it is always the anticipated, unspecified terror that has the most effect on a subject. That is what nightmares are all about.

Once again: "Proceed."

The sobbing grew became uncontrollable. We were all sick with apprehension and horror, full of sympathy for him and full of relief that it wasn't one of us. Without a word, one of the monitors fetched a jar of what I think was Vaseline. He dug out a large dollop which he put into a bowl. The other one fetched a small green thing which I learnt later was a chilli, and with surgical gloves on, split it with a knife. He rubbed it around in the Vaseline and then removed it. The first went round the back of the chair, grabbed the victims wrists and held them firmly. His colleague knelt in front of the sobbing boy and pulled on another pair of surgical gloves. He pulled down the foreskin. He rubbed the tainted Vaseline round the limp organ, down the shaft and onto the testicles, then sat back and waited.

The sobbing had stopped. Only the frequent sniffing broke the silence. Then quietly: "Ah," in apprehensive tones from the boy, then louder, and louder as the stinging of the tainted jelly started to penetrate to his nerves. His penis, limp since he had arrived on the platform, went through the quickest erection process I have ever seen. Mine at the time were quick, but this beat me. As it reached its zenith he was almost screaming, a thin scream which was somehow worse than a normal, full one. Quickly the monitors wiped away the remaining jelly and applied more, pure this time and from the jar. This calmed him. A little. The monitors stepped back. He was breathing very fast, but otherwise silent.

"You demonstrated yesterday that you like to masturbate. Do so now. If you refuse then the monitors will do it for you."

They were determined, these people. The monitor at the back released Blondie's wrists. He brought them together and massaged them. Then very slowly, wincing with the pain as the movement brought fresh stinging to his straining penis, he put a hand on it, gingerly. Then gripped it, and before we knew it he was jerking up and down rapidly. So hard had the jelly made him, and so fast was he going that it didn't take long. He was enough of himself again to push the organ away from him so the semen landed mainly on the stage in front of him. Only a little landed on him, on his right thigh. There was a sigh from all of us as he came to orgasm. We really hoped that was all, that he wouldn't be expected to do anything else. Once he had finished, and had recovered, he was once again in pain as the semen had spread the stinging further on his organ.

To our relief he was released from the chair and led away, walking very carefully. Our emotions were, as they say, in turmoil. We couldn't believe that adults could be so evil towards one of us. Someone pointed out that the boy had been pretty evil to me, but did that really make up for what was, essentially, torture?

The morning's classes were even more quiet than usual. Not even at break did we have very much to say. At the lunch table we were surprised and, I must say, pleased, to see Blondie come in the room. Some of the prefects collared him and shook his hand, and I could hear they were commiserating with him. He got his lunch, then to my surprise came and joined us. He put his tray on the table and looked at each of us in turn.

"Well 3; that's over."

"Are you all right," I asked shakily.

"I am now. It took a long time to die down. But look, I'm sorry. I mean it. All that made me realize what I'd done, and I'm sorry. Thanks for trying to give me support, and for 3; well 3; forgiving me, if that's what you really meant."

Someone else asked him if it really hurt. He just looked at them and said, between clenched teeth: "try it."

He told us afterwards that they admitted to him that they'd put too much chili into the Vaseline. It's the first time it'd been done, and one of the monitors had tried it and thought it was all right.

"He's got a bloody tough prick, that's all I can say."

Relations between us were good again. I never looked at him with longing any more, just as a normal bloke.

Chapter 6
Special Lesson 2

The afternoon was happier. We were back at what I can best describe as practical lessons, and despite our nervousness about what was going to be required of us next, particularly in view of this morning's treatment of one of us, this was more adventurous than classical learning. For all of us, that is, except two; those who weren't enjoying what they had to do for each other. The distressing thing was that if they were split up, giving one of the others the chance of being subject or operator for them they objected even further, one actually saying that he "wasn't going to be molested by some queer boy, it was bad enough to have a straight one feel his bollocks."

I was wondering what their reaction had been to Blondie's punishment. I soon found out. I was paired off with Martin, the elder of the two. He looked at me without enthusiasm.

"Well, I suppose you're younger than me, so you're going to be clean," was all he said. I didn't like to try starting a conversation. He seemed so antagonistic that I thought he'd hardly be interested. To my surprise he spoke again.

"I thought you were mad yesterday to let that blond kid get away with it. If that'd been me I'd have punched him in the bollocks."

"But if I'd done that he'd only have got me later, or next week, or next month. I'd have had to come into contact with him again somewhere, and I'd rather he didn't have a reason to do it again, or worse."

"True, I suppose, and he is a strong looking bloke. Oh well 3; but as for kissing him, ugh! But I suppose you like that sort of thing."

"I've never kissed a boy in my life before!"

"Oh, come on! Why are you here then?"

I told him, briefly. When I got to the first of the juicy bits I could see him look disgusted, so I stopped my account short and asked him why he was there.

"I was babysitting for a seven year old boy. When his parents had gone out he said he couldn't sit down because he'd got something up his arse still. I didn't know what he meant – I thought he just wanted to go to the toilet, so I told him to go. He said he'd tried, but it wouldn't come out. I asked him what it was and he said it was soap. I asked him why he'd poked that up there and then out he comes with the cap to the story. 'My father pushes it up for me.'"

I gasped.

"I phoned the doctor and told him what had happened, but I can't have told it very well because the police arrived as well. The kid's had the soap removed and is quite happy, and won't say in front of the big scary policeman what he's said in front of me. When he gets back Dad won't admit it either, of course, and he's already told his son that if he says anything he'll split up the family. So I take the full rap."

I was silent.

"You don't believe me, do you?" he said, bitterly.

"Yes 3; yes I do. I've heard so many stories like that – some not so innocent, I know – that I do believe you. There's no blame on you. What about the guy you were with yesterday?"

"That was just as silly. Someone asked him how wanking worked. He told them, they did it, got discovered, and told the police it was him who told them to do it. Simple."

"And they didn't believe him?"

"No. He didn't even know the boy was going to do it, never saw him naked, never wanted to. Bang. In The Institution with him."

I was silent again. Then: "Well, I'm sorry you're here, both of you. I can't help feeling the way I do, just as you can't help feeling the way you do, and it's obviously worse for you than it is for most of us."

"It certainly is. I don't think I can go through what we did yesterday again without being sick."

By this time the rest had been paired off, Jimmy with the lad about a eighteen months older than him, and Colin with one of the prefects who had been drafted in to make up for Blondie's reluctant advancement. Martin's groan when Mr. French told him that we'd start off by doing what we'd done yesterday was seized upon.

"You will do this. You have to get used to the idea. Do it, and it won't seem so foreign next time."

"But sir, it's all right for most of the others, but I'm not 3; I don't go after other boys. I have always wanted to be with girls."

"Unfortunately for you the court thought differently, it would seem. I cannot help that. I can tell you're reluctant but you must comply. It's in your own interest ultimately."

And he would hear no more argument. Martin said that he'd rather get the disgusting bit over with first, so I lay on the couch. He placed his hand on my thighs, closed his eyes, paused, and then began to stroke me so expertly that I wondered whether the court had actually been right. It was al getting quite exciting when he muttered "Jane 3; Jane 3;" and I knew why he had his eyes closed. I thought he'd be getting a shock in a minute when he had to shift his hands to my genitals. I had obviously had my express erection, and all was proceeding well until he mentioned the girl's name. That made me come down to earth with a bump. I couldn't get aroused properly if I knew all that was happening was mechanical, that there was no interest behind it. So when he opened his eyes and looked enquiringly at me I shook my head, and he had to continue. His eyes were open now, because he was massaging my testicles in the hope that would produce the required result. It took a long time. Apart from his friend and the prefect, all had had Mr French's attention, although what was happening there I couldn't see, nor could Martin. When fluid eventually appeared on me, and he had 'milked' some more up, he looked over his shoulder and Mr French came up to inspect.

"Good," he said.

"Now, a slight variation from yesterday when you gathered it up on your fingers. Today you are to take your mouth down to it and lick."

Martin sat bolt upright on my legs, nearly crushing them, "I'm not sucking anybody's prick here, or anywhere else! No way!"

"Oh dear, I thought you might react like that. I have to give you a choice. Either you lick it off this boy, or you lick it off one of the monitors, with two or three other monitors ensuring you do so. I should warn you that they are not gentle – you saw that this morning when they marched a culprit through the hall. Also I must tell you that they are all very sexually experienced, and I believe, active amongst themselves here, so I cannot vouch that it would be more pleasant than having a young, inexperienced boy as a subject."

"You wouldn't dare! One of those disgusting old men? No, you wouldn't dare!"

"Oh dear. Well, don't say I didn't warn you."

And he crossed to his desk and pushed a button three times. None of the others noticed this, they were all too interested in what they were doing. They looked up a few minutes later when the door opened and four monitors walked in.

Mr. French pointed in our direction and said "The elder one. Lick off."

He tried to make a run for it, but four enthusiastic, bulky adults can out-maneuver a seventeen-year-old any day. They captured him, then three of them held him as they had held Blondie. He gasped – I would have screamed – as his penis was stretched back under his legs, forcing the testicles to squash to either side of it. His look of shock and fear as the fingers went from either side of his cheeks deep into the cleft of his bottom was unsettling. He dared move in no other direction than that he was being steered in; toward the couch I was lying on. The free monitor undid the zip in front of his tracksuit jacket, pulled it off, then pulled down his tracksuit bottoms as well. He wore nothing underneath.

It was not attractive. He was swarthy, hairy, overweight and, well, ugly. He also smelt. He motioned me off the couch and climbed on to it, after making sure that all the boys in the room had a good view of his gross body and blossoming erection. I remember hoping that I wasn't going to look like that at his age. He looked at me, grinned, pointed to his penis, and said: "you want?"

I shook my head. He grabbed my arm and I felt myself being pulled nearer to him.

"No," said Mr. French.

He looked disappointed, let go of me, and as I walked hurriedly away, slapped my bottom.

He started masturbating. Now what Martin must have thought of this I don't know, but it did nothing for me. I imagine he still thought that he could tear away or that he wouldn't actually be made to do it. After seeing what these people could do, I wasn't so sure.

It wasn't long, with all of us youngsters watching him despite ourselves, before he stopped, squeezed his penis and nodded to the other three. They marched Martin over. The monitor holding his penis let go and he separated his legs to let it return. This gave the others a chance to re-establish their grip, and it was obvious from Martin's face that he was in pain. The third monitor grabbed the back of his head and pushed hard. He had no option but to bend forward. His head was being forced nearer and nearer the wet, repulsive organ in front of him and there seemed to be no escape.

He must have come to the same conclusion. "All right, all right," he gasped. "Let me go. I'll do the kid."

"Leave," said Mr. French immediately.

They did, very reluctantly. The one on the couch didn't bother getting dressed, he just picked up his tracksuit and swaggered out, walking proudly so we could all see his erection and its wet tip.

We didn't care to look.

After that Martin was quite keen to get it over with, managed to make me wet again quite quickly, appeared glad to get his lips down to me, to lick me thoroughly under Mr French's eagle eye, and even to try his lips around my tip.

"Sorry, kid. But then I suppose you don't mind."

Although because I knew he didn't want to do it, I felt so sorry for him that I didn't mind.

We swapped over, and I wondered how I could help him. I did all the things I was meant to, and was quite surprised to get an erection – his and mine – quite quickly. I remembered what Billy had done for me, but didn't dare to go so far. I had got to the stage of fondling Martin's very well-developed testicles, which I found very satisfying as there was so much to manipulate, I remembered Billy's trick of tracing his fingers around behind the scrotum, between there and the start of the cheeks. I tried this, and to my surprise he went sort of gooey, and grinned stupidly, and squirmed a bit. I carried on and he calmed down, but the silly expression remained on his face. I wondered if he could be ready, and turned my attention to his penis, still with one hand under him and on the testicles. Stroking it upward showed nothing, so I tried to squeeze. Still nothing.

Because we had taken so long before, Mr French was hovering behind us: I could sense this but Martin couldn't. I returned to his penis, as authorised, and continued light strokes up it. Again I tried milking, with the teacher watching. Nothing. Again back to the stroking. I was determined to make some for him, and continued now with both hands on him, one after the other. I sat forward a bit, one leg either side of him, so as to get one set of three fingers above and the other below his still swollen organ. I went faster; I went slower. It was during one of the faster sessions that Martin gave a gasp, and opened his eyes wide with horror. A moment later his semen hit me under the chin, on the chest, on the belly, then on his belly. I was on autopilot, as it were, and was continuing the stroking all through this.

He died down, and closed his eyes, breathing hard. I stopped. I could feel the warm fluid dripping off me, and didn't know what to do. I looked stupidly at Mr. French.

"I wasn't expecting that either." He sounded almost kind. "All right, you seem to have produced some fluid from him. Now do the rest."

I wasn't sure about that. A little clear fluid from the tip is one thing, but the top of his penis was running with semen. So was I. A vision of the monitors swum in front of my eyes. Quickly I shuffled back, bent down and licked. It tasted nearly the same as the ordinary fluid, yet somehow more potent. I hoped it wouldn't do me any harm.

"Do you feel like taking in any more?" asked the teacher.

"Not really."

"Try a little."

"Is it 3; poisonous?"

"I told you yesterday that nothing liquid will harm you, taken in small doses. Go on."

So I bent down again and licked some off his belly. He was starting to recover now, and watched me in amazement.

"Someone else come here. You. He pointed at the youngster Jimmy had been partnering. He looked at Martin's stomach and said, "what's that? Is it spunk?"

"Semen. Yes. Lick it."

"Where's it come from?"

"Sir."

"Sir."

"From him, of course."

So he came up, stuck out his tongue and shut his eyes. Martin watched him with horrified fascination as he got nearer and nearer, opened his eyes again, aimed, shut them, and licked. He backed away, tongue still out, a dribble of semen dangling from the end of it.

"Put it in your mouth! Don't be silly!"

There was a gulp as he did so.

"I did it! I did it!" He looked as amazed as Martin, but not so disgusted.

The buzzer sounded. Martin and I went wordlessly to shower. I asked if I could wash him, and he let me. I noticed that his friend didn't come with us. I also noticed that Martin didn't want to wash me. It was odd to see him put on his shorts and T-shirt after the shower when I had none to put on. With everybody clothed except me it still felt very strange, but I have to admit that the feeling of abject horror at the idea of walking through the corridors with nothing on was fading slightly. I suppose it was the dawning realisation that, if people expected nudity at some stage during the day or for some people to be nude, then it didn't matter quite so much, and the person concerned felt a little less as though people were going to laugh at him.

We went to tea. I saw that Martin and his friend were deep in discussion, so joined Colin and Jimmy who were anxious to hear my side of the afternoon's events.

"Have you been exercising your foreskin?" asked Jimmy, eventually. Once again I had forgotten. As he watched me I carefully pulled it back. It was less painful this time, although I still felt very restricted about the base of the bulbous glans. It was also still very sensitive. His comment reminded me about the extra lesson which I had forgotten thanks to the earlier excitement. So when the buzzer sounded I returned to the classroom. Billy was there on his own; or Mr French there was no sign.

"He was happy with the way things were going yesterday, so he said we could do it on our own. He said it didn't matter if I made you come, so long as it's with your foreskin down, but you mustn't make me, unless it's by accident.

"OK," I mumbled, wondering why it should matter. Anything went here, didn't it?

"Are you gay?" The question took me completely off guard. My brain whirled, stupidly. At my real school I had a stock of answers ready for the question, ranging from 'F 3; off' to 'I didn't know you cared.' I was wondering why he asked. I was here; wasn't it obvious?

I answered him, as it were from a third party, with the answer I had sworn to myself that I would never give.

"Yes," I said. And waited for the shower of scorn, of disgust, of ridicule.

"Good," he said.

I looked at him, wild eyed. Why? Did this mean he thought he could rape me? He read my expression and laughed.

"Don't worry. A few here aren't. It's only a stupid mistake they were sent, and I'm sorry for them 'cos there's a lot they have to put up with. We have to do all sorts of things we'd never do outside, but it's easier for us to get to enjoy or accept them. For them, it's not. All they can say is that it's better to do it with one of us than with the monitors."

"What are the monitors? Where do they come from?"

He grimaced. "We've never been told. Everybody hates them, the way they look at you, the things they do if you misbehave or don't co-operate, and how much they enjoy doing it 3; ugh. My theory is that they're homosexual rapists, or paedophile rapists, or sadists, or a mixture. I reckon the only reason they're kept in check is that they're given free reign to do what they like to each other in private, and the knowledge that outside they'd be in jail within two hours. Not to mention the punishment any of them would receive from another monitor at the Principal's direction if they really did try it on with one of us."

The door opened as I was digesting this. It was Mr French.

"I've been checking on you on the video. You are not here to talk. I shall continue to check, and if there is any further time wasting I shall put a monitor in here with you, to help if necessary. You will stay here for an additional half an hour. I shall check."

I climbed on the couch without further ado.

"Did you mind it yesterday when I put my mouth round it?"

"No. It was nice. If you don't mind."

As an answer he climbed onto the couch, but from the head end, so his knees were either side of my neck. Swiftly he leant forward before I could guess his intentions, and put his mouth round my genitals: penis and testicles both enveloped in wet warmth, an odd, shocking, ecstatic feeling. I looked up. Straight over my head were a pair of wonderfully deep-hanging, large testicles, swinging gently backwards and forwards, and a penis that was already fully aroused. The tip had pushed itself out of its surrounding and was gleaming wetly. His tongue found the testicles and began to lick them, still in his mouth, pushing them round – I hadn't realised that the tongue could be so strong. My body's reaction was immediate, but I could feel my erection being thwarted by the confines of his mouth. His tongue found that, too; the frustration of not being able to stand erect was telling on me, and it was making me feel more and more aroused as a result.

Eventually he released me, and my restricted penis inflated like a balloon, stretching the already pulled-back foreskin tighter than ever. He put his lips gently over the end of it, drawing circles with his tongue on the sensitive, exposed glans. The sensations there took my mind completely off the uncomfortable, tight feeling just underneath. I could no longer say that it hurt, it was just uncomfortably odd. His tongue slipped round to the top of the glans and I could feel that his lips were slowly sliding down the shaft. My sensitive tip came to the end of his tongue and soon found itself encircled by something else. He drew up for a minute 3;, then plunged his mouth right down. The back of his throat enveloped my glans; I was my full depth into his mouth now, about four inches [10 cm], and I could feel constrictions on my most sensitive part as he tried to swallow, to suck me even further in. This was by far the most wonderful sensation I had ever experienced. My body was feeling pleasure as never before, I was watching a fully mature, muscular male body closer than before. I almost fainted. Feeling the shudder he quickly withdrew his mouth and sat back, looking down at me.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing! Nothing. Please, do it again."

He smiled, and my heart melted. As he leant forward again I took my hands from behind my head, and once he was again working his way down my shaft I gently put my hand on his penis and pulled it down toward me. He withdrew again, and I thought he was going to tell me not to. But instead he shuffled his knees about, then crouched lower to bring his penis down to just above my face. He returned his lips to mine; I returned my hands to his, pulled down again, and with a bit of contortion slipped the end of it into my mouth. I could taste the salty fluid he was making, and quickly licked it off and swallowed. I ran my tongue around his glans, with my other hand took hold of his dangling scrotum full of egg-shaped testicles, and gently stroked them downwards. I could feel by his movements on me that I was having an effect, so I fondled him, and even drew what I was learning might be the magic circles on the plateau at the back of the scrotum. He partly withdrew his mouth from my penis, I think so he could breathe, and then took me between his lips again, this time right on the glans. He used his tongue again, quite forcefully, on the sensitive end, and by now there was only pleasure for me, no pain. What could I do for him? Could I pull back his foreskin? With my mouth? Although I had been concentrating on his testicles his erection was still in there.

Carefully I pulled my lips forward, then even more carefully felt the edge of his foreskin with my teeth. Very, very gently I pushed back; he paused in what he was doing, then there was a gasp from between my legs as his foreskin rode smoothly back over the ridge and I had his exposed, hot manhood in my mouth. This made him want to exercise me even more, so while I ran my tongue around his tip he pulled and pushed at mine with his mouth, breathing heavily, so I could feel his breath blowing under my legs.

I have to say that I was now in such a state of arousal that the result was inevitable. I could feel it coming, fast; there was no way of stopping it. I hoped Billy wouldn't mind, but he seemed to be expecting it with what he was doing to me. When it was just starting to happen something went wrong. The pain in my tight foreskin lying bunched under the bulb increased; it just put me off to such an extent that the orgasm died unsatisfactorily with only a dribble reaching the end of my penis. He felt it, of course, and carried on trying to make me produce more, but instead of my usual six or more 'pushes' – and I'm sure there would have been more this time, with such stimulation – there were only about two or three. As well as the pain, I was bitterly disappointed in one way, but relieved that I hadn't filled his mouth, if he hadn't wanted that.

With the orgasm, of course, came the climb down. I still had his penis in my mouth and it quickly became something wrong, foreign, distasteful. I withdrew, and took my hands from his tightened scrotum. He stopped, sat up and looked at me. The expression in his face was odd. It looked, for a moment, really tender, as if he really cared.

"What happened?"

"It's too tight, like that. I couldn't 3; you know 3; properly."

"I know. I thought there'd be much more. You're a mature, healthy boy who should have been able to 3; well, shoot a long way."

"I do, normally."

"Done it like that lots of times, eh? I thought you were a bit expert with me!"

"No! I've only ever been with another boy once, and we never did anything like that."

"How did you know to do all that?"

"You were doing it to me."

"You learn quick. Anyway, it's a pity you came then, 'cos a little bit longer and I'd have been there. As it is, I've got to wait until this goes down." He pointed to his still-hard erection, and the foreskin crumpled around the bottom of the bulb.

"Can't you 3; you know?"

"Not allowed to. Unless you do it by accident, of course."

"How can I do that?"

"We can wait until you're recovered, and start again."

I thought. "I don't think I can, not just like that."

"We'll see. Has the buzzer gone yet?"

"Don't think so. Haven't heard it."

"Well, we've got another half hour after that. Do you want to pee?"

"I think I could." The idea of another contest suddenly attracted me.

"Come on."

I followed him. By this time I was more or less recovered – it happens so much quicker when you're young. We went to the showers again. By the time we arrived he was starting to subside. I thought him very brave to walk naked with an erection along the passages, "Same again?"

"OK."

"Get it stiff again, then. It'll never work unless it is. You'll just get the normal distance. Here, let me, and you can get me up again."

So we fondled each other. Sounds crude, doesn't it? But it wasn't. Then, there, between us, this time in play, it seemed entirely normal and by the standards of the place, almost innocent. We were soon both fully aroused again. I stood there and aimed, and nothing happened. He couldn't, either. I don't think either of us was desperate, and the arousal, especially for him as he'd had no relief, was too much to allow something as commonplace as urine to get anywhere near.

"We'd better go back," he said. I lay back on the couch again, but he told me he wanted a rest, and if I put myself in the right position he would be able to do it. When he was close to my ear he whispered "grunt when you're getting near and I'll roll up your foreskin."

I nodded. I found that being on the top was hard work. My arms, which I was leaning on, were in the wrong place to be able to manipulate him as I wanted to. He was doing a good job on me though, and quite soon I thought it was going to happen again. As soon as I made a noise he stopped, grasped me just under the foreskin with his teeth and replaced it over the tip, then carried on with his exercising. It had been a false alarm, but to my relief he didn't skin me again. On his erection I think I was now getting quite good, because it was getting very salty and slippery under my tongue. I managed to do what he had done to me, swallow the end of his penis and keep swallowing. It was very difficult because I couldn't breathe and swallow at the same time. The automatic systems kick in, and you swallow frantically as you would with a large piece of food that was stuck, but you had to remember this particular piece of food was man-sized and you had to ease away from it.

I repeated this quite a few times, and he gave a moan and I could feel him getting even harder, if that was possible, and tensing. All at once something warm hit the back of my throat – I had come up for air, so to speak, at the time – and I made myself just carry on with my mouth. Stream after stream of warm wetness hit the back and sides of my mouth and I wondered how much he was going to make. I don't know how long it all went on, but just as he was dying down, I started. And this time, with no constricting foreskin at the base of my glans, and spurred on by his own incredible amounts, I pumped quite a lot more into his mouth than I had before. As I finished, I swallowed what was in my mouth – it took two goes – and as he released me I let myself fall forward. My face was between his calves and his must have been by my feet.

And there we lay for a few minutes until nature had let us recover. I pulled myself forward and sat on the couch by his feet, and he eventually did the same.

"Wow," he said. That's all, but it spoke volumes.

"Thank you. It was better the second time."

"I could tell. For a second time you made a lot. But are you sure you've not done this before?"

"It's only what you've shown me."

"Wow."

I was very quiet at dinner. The other two thought I had had a bad experience and kept trying to draw me out. But I was just very tired. I didn't even want to swim afterwards, but went in and splashed about just to show willing. I was soon out again, and lying face up by the pool, careless for once about being naked. I realised that I had walked from the canteen to our room and from there to the pool without worrying in the slightest about being the only one with no clothes.

When we got back to the bedroom they could stand it no more. Jimmy said he was going to pull out a hair from my bush every minute if I didn't tell them what was wrong. Colin joined in and they even got as far as sitting on my chest and hands with Jimmy's fingers trying to separate a hair or two when I thought I'd better save myself the pain. So I spun the whole story for them. It was interesting to see the erections start and blossom. When I had finished they were silent.

"I suppose you'll be moving to another room with Billy," said Jimmy after a long, long pause during which his little erection had subsided rather suddenly. Funny, I thought, his voice sounds a bit quavery.

"He's not asked me," I answered, thinking about it for only the first time.

"I don't think I'd go if he did. I like being with you, and perhaps I can teach you some of the things we did and we can have as good a time ourselves."

He immediately cheered up. "Can we start now?"

"No," said Colin.

"Paul's exhausted, we're probably being watched, and I for one don't want to lose any pubic hair. What you'd do I don't know."

This knocked him back: he didn't have any. I hoped Colin hadn't been too hard on him. So we started reading, and soon Jimmy had drooped over his book, so we had to undress him and put him in the bed. I was tired. I suppose knackered would be a literal description, and soon was asleep beside him. When Colin joined us I don't know.

Chapter 7
Chris and Punishment

We were woken earlier than normal the next morning. A monitor came in, without knocking, as usual, and stripped off the thin sheet which was all we needed as bedding. He stood looking at us, smirking at the way we were all three lying parallel, touching in companionship. Sleepily Jimmy tried to find the sheet and drag it back over us, but ended up pawing Colin's thigh. He sat up and said "What 3; ?" before his brain caught up. The monitor laughed, and produced a pair of shorts and T-shirt from behind his back. He threw them at me, catching me in the face as I raised myself sleepily on my elbow.

"You wear."

I picked them up and dropped back onto the pillow, unwilling to wake up.

"You wear now."

I looked at him. He stayed there motionless. Reluctantly I swung my legs over the side of the bed and reached for the shorts, pulled them on and followed them by the T-shirt. It felt really strange after two days when I had worn nothing at all.

"They must have taken pity on me," I said to the others. The monitor laughed and left the room. I was just executing a war dance to celebrate when he returned. I stopped.

"Shorts down."

I looked at him, stupidly. He was by my side in a second, and without ceremony pulled my shorts around my ankles.

"Foreskin."

I was going to give him no opportunities there. As swiftly as I could stand I pulled it back, over the bump, which, of course, started an erection. He watched it, as did Colin and Jimmy. Despite all the exercises of the last two days it was still very uncomfortable for me to undergo an erection when skinned. He waited until it was standing to attention, so to speak, then swiftly bent down to pull my shorts back up again. In doing so his bristly chin rubbed against my tender glans and I started back with a cry at the pain, tripped over the shorts and fell backwards on the floor. Whilst down I very carefully worked the shorts up my legs, over the erection to my waist just so as to stop him trying to 'help' me. I stayed down, noting that the grin had vanished from his face.

"Breakfast fifteen minutes," he said, and left.

I carefully stood up, not without pain. The others donned their uniforms, and for the first time in two days I felt totally at home in walking to the showers. We didn't know why they had relaxed the usual rule of no clothes before a shower.

At breakfast we heard that there was a new boy starting. Billy was the bearer of the news.

"It's a sod for him starting late. He'll have nobody to start off the first steps with, and he'll be naked for a week on his own, too. Apart from you, that is."

This was to me.

"But I've been given my clothes."

He laughed. "That's just for maximum effect on the new boy, so that he's on his own to start with. They do that when they can. Don't you remember how you others were treated? They performed the indoctrination on you, then took you apart so you weren't even there when the others came on the platform. It's all done to make the point."

I shuddered, remembering that awful moment, the first of many, as I stood there, the only one naked in front of a room full of clothed boys near my own age.

"Poor kid," I said with feeling.

We all filed into the hall and stood around as usual, getting progressively quieter as the prefects, then the monitors, came in. As the staff entered the low buzz of talk stopped. A teacher told us that we must make no sound at all as the newcomer was shown. He told us that this was a boy who had been caught masturbating with another boy by his parents. 'I'm not alone,' I thought.

We waited: the side door opened and a short figure was ushered in by the Principal. I couldn't see from the back of the hall where we were, but something rang a vague bell as he was walked to the centre of the stage. He turned and faced us. It's true what they say that your mouth goes dry when you have a shock. My mouth dropped open, too. I stood there, motionless for about two seconds, then just as the Principal was about to speak again my brain jerked a single word from my mouth, unbidden.

"Chris!"

The Principal looked up sharply. So did Chris from the platform. He smiled. I subsided, alarmed. I had spoken! Oh no. That doesn't warrant a punishment, does it? The Principal continued, so the moment passed. He introduced Chris, and as the inevitable approached I found myself shaking and feeling sick inside. I knew what was going to happen.

"Prove it by taking your clothes off," finished the Principal. Chris looked at him, grinning: he got a poker face in return. The grin faded. His face went white.

"You are joking," he managed.

"No."

"But 3;" Like me, he looked round wildly for some means of escape, and noticed the ring of prefects around him. He had more wits than me: he said to them: "Is this for real?" There were nods everywhere. He looked down at us; at me. I nodded, too.

"But how can I just 3; I can't! You can't make me!"

The Principal nodded at the prefects. It was all over in seconds. They had to hold his hands away from his crotch because he wanted to hide his privacy behind them. Having got that far, and realising that they were entirely serious about what he had to do he pulled back his own foreskin when told, and leant over the desk to display his bum. A prefect had to hold open his cheeks, though. He squirmed at the touch, then was still as others made a move towards him. He shot a look of venom at the prefect who had touched him, though. I couldn't see the details, but he told me later that when he actually saw the boy concerned, and the look of apology on his face, he softened. It was Billy. They let him up. He was told he would have no clothes for a week, and he stared at the Principal in disbelief.

"To your classes, the rest of you, except for Gaston."

Oh no. My knees felt weak again. Had he decided to punish me after all? It seemed that all he wanted to do was to deliver Chris to my care. He was doing so when Billy intervened.

"Excuse me, Sir."

"Yes?"

"I'm on my own at the moment, if you remember. I wondered if I could look after him for a start, show him the ropes and so on?" Chris looked at him, and found a gently smiling face which somehow caused him to swallow hard. He managed to smile back.

"He knows Gaston. They were involved together."

"I don't mind," said Chris quickly.

"If it'll help."

I was a bit put out by this. My inclination was towards hugging Chris and looking after him. He was the first boy I had ever been with, and I felt protective. But his attitude to me, and toward Billy, made me think of Jimmy and Colin, and it didn't seem to be so important any more. But what of my times with Billy? Oh hell! Why is it so complicated? I wanted to be with them all! Suddenly it was out of my hands.

"Very well, Morton. Break him in. Gaston: out of those clothes now."

He held out his hand. It was just as well Chris was naked, because stripping in front of a small, clothed group seemed almost more difficult than in front of a crowd. It was too much like being told to get undressed and go to bed in front of your parents' guests at home, when you're rising five and the privacy bug has finally bitten. Parents find they no longer have a large baby on their hands, but a small boy instead. I meekly complied, and handed my clothes to him, the two of us naked together again.

"You may go."

I just about waited until we were out of earshot before stopping him.

"What happened to you? I've been wondering about you all week!" Billy stopped too, and looked around.

"Very quickly, for now," he said.

"I was due in front of the Juvenile Court the same day as you. I saw your name on the list. Before I got there the Magistrate went sick or something, and they dragged me back to the cell. I haven't seen my parents since they called the Police. They never reckoned I'd get done as well, but my stupid, bastard brother 3;" He stopped. There were tears in his eyes.

"Come on," said Billy, gently.

"You can talk later. Paul, I'll see you for extras as usual, OK? I'll see if Chris wants to stay on, too. We can talk then."

I nodded and wished a very quiet Chris good luck. He never spoke, just lifted his hand. Billy shepherded him away, a hand round his shoulders, head bent toward his, and I could hear a gentle murmur as they went. Suddenly I wished I was going with Chris to be gently taught by my wonderful tutor who I'd see later anyway, possibly with Chris. The thought made me less 3; what? Jealous? Lovesick? Is that what it was? I'd read about it in books but really! Me? I jolted myself out of the thought and went to the classroom. They were just starting the same session as the previous afternoon again, but with different people. I hung about and took my turn as people became free. The little lad who Jimmy had been with, whose name I discovered to be Bruce, was quite keen to get his mouth around me after his experiences with Martin's semen the previous evening. He was so keen, in fact, that Mr French had to remind him to stimulate me to make the fluid before he could take it in.

"It's all right, sir. He's quick. He's probably made some already."

"That's not the point. The point is that you are trying to make it as pleasurable for him as possible, too. Also, I told you to. You are heading for a punishment."

That quietened him down considerably. As he played with me I wondered again whether I was to be punished for exclaiming in Assembly. I didn't think so, but ran through what might happen in my mind if I were. The thought made me the more randy, for some reason, and the cool feeling on the tip of my penis announced the awaited fluid, which young Bruce got down to with alacrity, and lapped up.

My turn with him was interesting in that to start with, like Jimmy, he was still very ticklish, but calmed down quicker than my friend and really enjoyed the sensation of finger tip massage. I used my trick of fingering him behind the testicles, too, and that really made him giggle for a bit. Once he had got over that, again, he found it most effective. I saw the fluid present before he told me and wondered how much he could produce, so I carried on and managed to get the whole 4" [10 cm] of his erection really wet. Rather than milk him, I put the whole thing in my mouth and swept upwards, finishing off with my tongue. I don't know why; it seemed a good way of doing it. He gasped.

"Again," he said quietly. After three goes at this Mr French came over and told me to stop.

"Don't run before you can walk," he said. I didn't know what he meant. It felt OK to me, and Bruce wasn't objecting. The rest of the day passed as the previous two. This time nobody had an orgasm, and the afternoon's academic classes were nothing to write home about. But then they never were. My extra lesson found me with a very tired Billy and no Chris. I asked him where he was. For a moment he didn't answer me. Then: "Have you known him long?" I explained that we'd shared two school years together, the corner of one desk, two wanking sessions.

"I thought from what was said earlier that you'd been together for ages. Chris has a very soft spot for you, you know."

I didn't. I felt like saying that it was his soft spots that were the reason for both of us being here now. And mine, too, I suppose.

"He's a horny devil," Billy continued. "He took to our activities like a duck to water. I never told him – nor did anyone else – that we're only meant to orgasm to order, and before I knew it he was really making me come on strong. He had to go straight to sucking me off for real. I told him after the first time, but it seemed to make no difference, 'cos when I started on him he was shooting all over me before I had a chance to slow down or tell him what to do, so I had to clean him up, too. I explained all about it, again, but all he kept on doing was nuzzling up to me and 3; Oh, God 3; It's never really happened to me, but I think I'm in love! Do you know, just now after lessons he actually came to find me – naked though he is – and asked me to come into his room? I knew it'd still be one of the new boys' rooms and not videoed, so I went and 3; Well, that's why I'm tired. And hungry. I missed lunch and I've missed tea. He's asleep now – after four times I'm not surprised – and I'll have to get him up for a meal later. They'll be moving him somewhere 3;"

I looked at him, astonished. I thought I had something going with Billy – I wasn't so sure about Chris, although he was the reason I was here. I felt muddled. And that strange feeling that I thought might be lovesickness, and for the moment the world looked very bleak. Then I thought of my little Jimmy, and the good looking Colin, and shook myself out of it again. If Chris was the best thing that was suddenly happening to Billy, then they were the best things that were happening to me. It didn't seem so bad after all.

Our session was a bit one sided. Billy's heart wasn't in it, and he certainly had no more semen to give by then even if I could have kept his erection inflated for long enough. He managed with mine, although much of the interest seemed to have gone. Which made the whole manipulation much less uncomfortable.

It came as no surprise later to find that Billy and Chris had managed to pair up. I hoped they would allow each other to get some sleep, then realised that Billy would have been forbidden to come to orgasm, and their activities would be videoed anyway. I was feeling very randy by this time, realising that my friends had been relieving each others needs when I hadn't been able to. But I didn't dare take matters into my own hands, thinking that it might be obvious as I was naked, and almost everywhere seemed to be videoed anyway.

We went to bed. I was still a bit quiet and wouldn't answer the questions the others fired at me. They gave up eventually and slept. I didn't, not for ages.

Even after a disturbed night I felt better in the morning, and they got most of their information then. Talking helped me exorcise the last of my attachment to Billy, and to sort out my involvement with Chris. I think Colin read a lot between the lines, and understood. He just put an arm round me as we sat naked on the bed, the three of us.

"You've got me. And I've got you. That's all you need."

"What about me?" asked Jimmy indignantly. "I need you both, too."

Colin laughed. "We each need each other, Jimmy. You're not excluded. You're the one who brings us down to earth, and we're the ones who protect you and who you can have fun with."

"There's three of us," piped Jimmy triumphantly, "and only two of them. We're better off!"

Assembly found me daydreaming in our accustomed place at the back. What was being said about lessons I don't know, but I knew I just had to follow Jimmy to get to the right place if it was 'practical' or one of the others of my own age if it was academic. I was conscious of the doors opening behind us, and woke up. Two monitors entered, and people scattered to give them a path. They were making straight for me, their eyes were boring into my skull like gimlets. That, of all things, rooted me to the spot. Unhurriedly they took my shoulders and bundled me back through the door. It was done so quickly nobody else had a chance to speak, to protest, to help me.

Outside I found one of the teachers and another two monitors. Without any speech, a third monitor took station behind me, while the fourth, watched closely by the teacher, started pumping at my penis. Now, at fourteen, even when you don't want an erection you can get one. It takes very little, or nothing at all. This treatment brought one on me as quickly as ever, and just as swiftly the teacher slipped one of the wide rubber bands round it that Blondie had worn two days before. I began to feel sick, and trembly again, and remember moaning "no 3; no 3;" But yes.

"Legs apart."

Numbly I obeyed. They fed the long rubber tail under me so that it bisected my pendulous testicles, and that was desperately uncomfortable. The monitor at the back jerked it up into the cleft of my bum which had the effect of almost forcing my testicles back into my body.

"No," said the teacher.

The monitor released the strap with a grunt. The man in front pulled down the strap, grasped my scrotum and, savouring he moment, held it to one side. Then the strap was pulled up sharply again. It was uncomfortable – very – but bearable. The two at the back slowly inserted their fingers into my cleft, and squeezed each cheek. This stretched my hole, which stung.

No more than two minutes had passed. They opened the doors again and I was marched – or rather waddled – up onto the platform. I was so busy dealing with the discomfort and the pricking at the back of my eyes that I had no time to feel the usual vulnerability at standing naked in front of people. Once I was there the Principal turned to me.

"I have explained to everyone that, after being told specifically that not a sound was to be made when a newcomer was introduced, you called his name. It was involuntary, I know, but you all have to learn to stifle involuntary comments, as well as some voluntary ones. Because it was not premeditated I have not held this punishment over you for the day as would usually happen. It will be administered now, with no notice. Sit."

I almost collapsed onto the special chair. I could see no way of avoiding the inevitable so immediately spread my legs. The monitor who had held my scrotum so lovingly before took hold of it again and ran his fingers over it to find hairs to separate for removal. I was fourteen. I had none. All my pubic hair was above my penis. The skin protecting my testicles was smooth.

He grunted again, pulled down on the rubber band arrangement which almost unbalanced me from the seat, so stiff was my penis, and fumbled at the sparse hair above. Somehow he must have found six, for he slowly pulled at a selection. The skin pulled up too, so rather than gradually and painfully tug until the roots gave way he gave a sharp tug, which is what he was meant to do in the first place. I was so relieved that it was over I just gave a gasp, and that was that. He slowly released the rubber band from me; by this time I was so angry I didn't care about being naked with an erection in front of a room full of clothed people, I just walked back down to rejoin Colin and Jimmy.

Afterwards they congratulated me on my composure. They hadn't a clue – they hadn't been inside me when it happened. I determined to myself I was going to make myself come that day, partly to relieve the pressure and partly to buck the system. I didn't have much pubic hair. Once they'd pulled all that out they'd have to stop.

Chapter 8
Threesome

As lessons finished we left last, so our dual masts weren't seen by too many people. The afternoon saw Chris in the same practical session as the rest of the beginners, so quick was he at understanding what he was required to do. Billy had said nothing about him, so the rest of us assumed that someone had watched a video. I hoped neither of them would be punished for having an orgasm: it sounded as if they wouldn't have any pubic hair left between them afterwards to judge from what Billy had said. I didn't know whether it was a good idea or not, but he and I were partnering each other for the afternoon. I soon realised that what Billy had said of Chris was true: he was anxious to get his mouth round me and licked me everywhere from bum to belly button trying to get me to make fluid. He succeeded, and I wish he'd continued until I came so that he got the blame instead of me. As it was I found that I was wet from base to tip of my penis, and his last few, powerful, upward sweeps with his mouth, with plenty of vacuum behind it, must have produced even more.

As a consolation to myself I was as forthcoming with him, and I think we both enjoyed it, although I couldn't get the feeling that I was playing with somebody else's property, so attached was Billy to him. When we had each gone as far as we could, we sat, and I asked him how he was getting on with Billy.

"He's super. He really looks after me. I know you and he have 3; been together, of course, so you know how big he is. He's everything I ever wanted in a friend, and more. I love playing with him, and when he plays with me it's even better."

"Will you stay with him?"

"I think so, if they let me. I don't know what I'll do when he goes, though. I hope he'll wait for me outside."

The thought of leaving hadn't had time to cross my mind. I suppose people did go at the end of their sentence, but I'd only been there a few days. Six months seemed a lifetime away. I wondered how long Billy had been there – he'd certainly gone through most of the course, it seemed.

Mr. French was in something of a quandary at the end of the first session. Those of us who were naturally attracted to our classmates – by sexual inclinations, that is, not by friendship – were quite naturally able to accept the actions to be performed on us, and for us to perform. There had to be some adjustment in what we regarded as normal, and what we were prepared to accept in our mouths, certainly, but natural affinity and curiosity overcame most people's squeamishness. Jimmy had found that being told to play with someone's willy was an attractively naughty thing to do, and putting it in his mouth was the sort of thing he'd probably accept as a dare. When it came to being touched he was still quite ticklish – the ticklishness was slower resolving itself to sensuality. But it was still a game.

At the other end of the age range there was a genuine interest in someone else's body being available, after so many years of repressed feelings and desires, and fortunately none of us was physically actually repulsive. In the middle, where I was, it was pure discovery, once the embarrassment at nudity and lack of privacy that is natural to the early teenager had been overcome. From time to time the feelings surfaced, though, and necessity made us all drive them back underground.

The quandary concerned the two real red-blooded heterosexuals. Too young to accept events as games or discovery they had great difficulty in getting an arousal, and practice was making no difference. If anything the continuing disgust they felt was making it harder for them even to raise an erection, and the knowledge of their dislike of it all made it difficult for the rest of us to operate on them, no matter how good looking they were. It wasn't the case that they were refusing to co-operate, it was just that, no matter how much they did, nothing much happened. Mr. French knew it was no use threatening them because they were performing all the actions. I had managed two days previously to make one come, but even my ministrations were useless now.

Eventually he sent them to their room, not in disgrace, but to try and get things going on their own. He told them that if they managed to make each other come he wanted to see the result, and they were to return, unclothed, to the classroom. He urged them to try, as he had no idea what actions the Principal would take in the circumstances. Once they had gone, the mood in the room seemed to lighten. We swapped around again twice more until the buzzer went. Mr. French called Chris and me over as I was about to troop out with the others.

"Extra lesson with Billy Morton tonight again, and Turbot can be there as well. I've watched the tapes of you and Morton in action, boy, and he can continue to make you produce semen. You too, Gaston, if it works out that way. But he must not come himself, and if either of you make him, you'll receive a punishment. I've told him that, too, because he's experienced enough to know when to stop you. Go."

The extra session was a strange affair that started off being very much a wary threesome. Billy took charge eventually, and I think he was really anxious to avoid an orgasm. He exercised my foreskin as usual, but when it was fully distended round the widest part of the glans he stopped and told Chris to take over.

Nervous of pain at first, I was quickly calmed by his gentleness in moving the skin back and forth with his mouth. Had he really learnt how to do that in one day? He moved himself so he was lying on an elbow which was between my legs, one hand caressing my low-hanging testicles and the other holding the base of the penis. Billy came and lay down beside me, his penis by my face and his lips by Chris' penis. It was my first three way session, and was really exotic. Three tongues were lashing furiously, three male organs were leaking fluid, and three Adam's apples were swallowing quite frequently as the salt taste appeared. Twice Billy had to pull free – as best he could in view of my position on his body – and to be fair to him I immediately stopped. Eventually he stopped completely, got up and walked around. I took over on Chris's erection and it wasn't long before I felt him tense and moan, and that certain warm, salt stickiness hit the back of my throat. Six times, in decreasing force, it happened, but he strained his penis upwards quite a few times after that until I felt that it was losing its hardness. Eventually he withdrew, swung upright and sat there, looking at me.

"Thank you," was all he could manage.

I was still very erect, but I could see he couldn't carry on. I looked appealingly at Billy who returned to me, and gave be a few perfunctory sucks. He knelt at my feet, took my long scrotum in his hand and quite firmly massaged the testicles inside, while performing long, regular strokes on my erection with the other hand. It didn't take long, for I was almost ready anyway.

The days of frustration were worth it, because I shot everywhere, all over him, over myself, the couch and the floor. I must have made Chris's six shots look a bit sick, for I seemed to go on for ages. To give Billy his due he never stopped until I was ready, but just kept up this perfect rhythm all the time.

I almost fainted at the end.

They lay me on the couch and, to my surprise, each kissed me, then stayed there until I was able to talk, then another five minutes until I was completely recovered, if still very tired. I was very quiet at dinner that night. The other two found me asleep when they came to bed. The following days were really repeats of what had gone before. There were no more punishments, no new arrivals, nothing spectacular. My extra lesson continued to each day's highlight, although I was quite surprised when Billy didn't appear on Friday night.

"He has to go out on Friday and Saturday," Chris told me.

"They take him down to the town, to a club. Sounds like fun. I wish I could go. He has to sleep in another room for those two days, so I'll be on my own tonight."

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" I asked, bluntly, suddenly wanting all this out in the open. His head jerked up to look at me, but he didn't respond for a long time.

"I think I must be," he said very quietly, at last. "Everything else I've done has been just watching and 3; you know 3; imagining. With you it was the first 3; well, you know, the first time with someone else, and it was wonderful 3; 3; Paul 3;" he gulped. "I'm sorry. If I hadn't led you on we'd neither of us be here. If I'd been more careful we might still be enjoying ourselves. If I hadn't been sent here I'd never have come across Billy, and I'm sorry if that's let you down. But he's just so 3; you know 3; complete. He's everything I ever wanted someone else to be; if I dreamt of someone, he'd be like Billy in every way. Sorry."

I could think of nothing to say. I was saved the embarrassment by the opening of the door and the appearance of a monitor.

"No talk. Suck."

He stood there watching. Chris just looked at me, shrugged, and started to pull back my foreskin for the evening's session. He had obviously been told what the problem was by Billy, so did all he could to stretch the reluctant skin for me whilst making it as pleasurable as possible. All this the monitor was still watching, fascinated.

"Why you no pull hard? I hold him," he exclaimed suddenly.

As one, we both sat up and said very firmly: "NO!"

"Please go away," I added.

"We've been told what to do by Mr. French, and how to do it. We need no help."

At the teacher's name he backed away with a disgusted sound and banged out of the room. We continued. Chris tried a new technique on me: he pulled the foreskin up rather than back, and told me to work it over the tips over my index and middle fingers. With difficulty thanks to the erection I just managed it.

"Now separate your fingers, as if you were stretching a pair of gloves."

It was a bit more painful than just working it over the glans, but I did my best, and held it open for as long as I could. When he next pulled it back for me there was a notable improvement. I promised myself I'd try the same thing on my own. We played for a bit longer, and ended by sitting next to each other as we had done that fateful day. We managed to come to orgasm simultaneously, and I enjoyed showering with him afterwards. I was just going to join the others when he said, quietly: "Come to me, tonight."

"I can't. I've got two others I sleep with."

"But I'll be alone."

"You always slept alone at home."

"But that's not here."

I was silent. I could see his point, but I also knew that Billy and he belonged to each other. No matter how attractive a night with only one person seemed, and one who would play rather more than Colin and Jimmy did, it would be letting my friends down. I didn't know what to do. Eventually I told him he'd better join us at the table and I'd see if I could raise the subject. That seemed to please him.

As we sat down, Jimmy said enthusiastically "We've just been told by the Principal that there's no work tomorrow or Sunday – there was none last weekend either. But better than that 3; We're allowed to play all night if we want. Do anything. You know 3; !" That complicated matters. If I went with Chris I'd run the risk of losing the two real friends I had who seemed likely to be permanent. I didn't want to do that. On the other hand, Chris was a part of my background, and was lonely. But he'd have Billy back. But when Billy was released 3; Perhaps he'd come back to me. Would I want him if he did? Colin mistook my silence.

"Don't you want to play? We can do 3; everything, you know. Or is that what you don't want to do?"

"It's not that. It's 3; Can I talk to you for a minute?"

We went outside into the corridor. Colin motioned to Jimmy to stay there and he sank back onto his chair with a disappointed look on his face. I explained what had happened.

"What do you want to do?" asked Colin, as if it were that simple. A pause.

"If you are going to be there all the time, and not go off with someone else, then I want to stay with you."

There. I had made up my mind.

"How about Jimmy?"

"Oh yes. And Jimmy, too. He needs our protection."

"I'm glad you said that. I wouldn't have liked it if you'd said anything else. Where Jimmy goes, we need to be. But I want you there as well, because 3; well 3; I just do."

"Chris says he loves Billy, and we know how Billy feels."

"Don't you think there couldn't be love with the three of us? I hadn't thought of that, and said so.

"Well, let's see what happens. I'd rather you didn't sleep with Chris: I like him, but I want you to sleep with me."

Wow. Me? I just looked at him. I could feel the emotion, the tears even welling up inside. But they were tears of happiness that someone seemed really to want me, and of relief that a difficult situation had been resolved for me. I felt that I'd finally exorcised the remnants of anything I'd felt for Chris. I knew he didn't want me, he wanted Billy. I was just a body in a bed as far as he was concerned. Wasn't I? I just nodded to him, and escaped to the nearest lavatory to get my emotions under control. When I returned to the canteen Chris was talking to another of our form, one of the older ones. He came over to me.

"So you've made your choice."

I looked at Colin.

"I told him that you feel for Jimmy and me like he feels for Billy," he explained.

"And I said that we feel the same about you, too. He realizes that just as Billy wouldn't want him sleeping around, we weren't keen on you doing it either."

Chris nodded. So, rather more slowly, did I. He turned away and resumed his conversation with the older boy.

"Do you know, he asked me if I'd come and have some fun with him if you didn't want to," exclaimed Colin.

"I think he just wants anyone. He's discovered a toy and he wants to play with it."

He paused.

"I just hope that Billy either doesn't mind or understands or at least isn't too hurt."

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