Backwoodsman

The Institution

Chapters 17-20

Chapter 17
Preparation for the Club

"This is where you change for the second session," announced the Principal. "You will be wearing the same belts and loincloths that you wore when they inspected you, but in a different way. Then you wore them as loincloths, but this time you'll wear them as a sort of G-string."

Now although I'd often heard of G-strings I had no idea what one was. I knew it was connected with sex in some way and was presumably something you wore, but that was it. We pulled down our shorts on command, and I was interested to be able to see 'my' monitor's tracksuit bottoms suddenly bulge. We donned the belts, then, using Blondie as a model, he showed us how he wanted us to wear the cloths. He tucked one of the short ends of the rectangle under the belt at the back and brought it down over the boy's buttocks.

"Separate your legs."

He obeyed. The cloth was brought underneath, twisted once there, then taken up either side of the testicles, quite tight, and the corners tucked under the belt in front. This left Blondie covered at the back, although I thought the twist under the legs would probably ride up and expose him there eventually. In the front, although the genitals couldn't be seen, it accentuated what was there. The fact that the middle bit, the bit between the two corners that were tucked under the belt, was loose meant that should he have a really hard erection that found its way around the constricting material either side of our testicles, it would poke out of the top. As it was the whole thing wobbled as he walked.

Once we had stared in horrified fascination at this concoction we were each fitted with our own. It felt better than wearing nothing, and in the confines of The Institution it felt almost fully dressed. But I knew that in a strange place, with fully clothed people all round, watching, it would be like being naked all over again.

"You do not touch these at all," said the Principal.

"If they come undone you walk normally to the dressing room, adjust it, and see one of our people before going back on duty. If you want the toilet you go there, and see on of our people before you start again. Is that clear?"

"What do we do if it gets loose, or we start showing things, sir?" someone asked.

"You leave it alone until you can get to the changing room in the normal way. On no account do you try to hide anything that's showing, nor do you keep out of the way. If you are stopped on your way back to the changing room by a client then you go to that client. If he wants to touch the parts of you he can see, and he can see more than usual, then that is your loss. If you are in doubt as to what you should do, ask one of our people. If you don't, and take matters to do with your clothing into your own hands, and it turns out wrong, you will receive a punishment back here. If you persist in doing so you will be punished in a different way there. Is that understood?"

The thought of being touched on my hitherto most private parts by strangers 3; ugh!

There were one or two more questions, but generally, yes, it was understood. The flow of information was so great that we had forgotten all about our nerves, and the idea of displaying ourselves in front of strangers in a strange place. Instead we tried to remember all we had been told as they opened the door to the hall and we followed them out into the makeshift 'club', wobbling in front as we went. I think the luckiest ones were Jimmy and the two nearest his age. Their wobble was only just discernible. Mine was more so, whilst Colin's and the elder boys' were little short of indecent.

The exercise went on, and one by one the students were taken to the rooms. Martin, the straight one, came back looking white and ill. I felt really sorry for him. Of all the people who had to go through this he was the worst equipped to deal with it. It must have been the same for him as making love to a sixty year old woman would have been for me. As time wore on I was getting used to wobbling and the strange sensation was beginning to feel normal. I was walking back to the bar with an empty tray when a voice beside me said "Boy!"

I looked round. It was the Principal.

"I want to strip you, and then to feel you everywhere."

"Certainly, sir. Where did you want this to happen?"

"Here, in front of me."

For him to ask was odd. It somehow went against the authority which was his hallmark. We none of us regarded him has having any sexual preferences or sexual anything else, come to that. But here he was, asking 3; Oh well.

I stood there: he pulled out the two front corners of my cloth and let it hang. I separated my legs, but the twist had ridden up between my buttocks and wouldn't come free. He ignored that, and started working on my testicles, which, of course, gave me an immediate erection. As soon as he had achieved that and given it one or two strokes to make sure, he stopped.

"Thank you. Here is my tab." I took it and made the appropriate charge. I was just about to pull up my cloth again when I remembered. Did this count as having to go back to the changing room?

"Please sir, do I have to go back to the changing room for this?"

"I am a client, boy. I don't know."

Ask one of the staff, that was it. I turned round. Almost every eye in the room was on me, and for an instant I felt just as I had that first day when I was stripped naked on the stage in front of them. I felt the familiar surge of panic, and fumbled my way to the back of the hall where people were standing. I asked one of them what I should do.

"Go in there and put it back on again. I'll come with you." It was a teacher. When we were in safety and I had calmed down he 'dressed' me.

"What he wanted to do was to see if you'd remember what you'd been told, and to see what would happen with the erection if you did. There; now you're dressed again. Give yourself another erection, or let me, and go back in. Go straight back and walk past his table. Don't touch it again, though."

I was so relieved at being more or less in privacy that there was no way any fondling of mine was going to make me stiffen again. Eventually he fished around for me inside the loincloth, pulled it out at the top and worked the foreskin to and for until I had no option but to become erect. He went on for quite a while – in fact I almost thought her was going to try and make me come. But he stopped, grinned at me, and said "That should make sue it stays up. Now, put it back like this 3;"

He adjusted the loincloth until it more or less contained me, but left the tip of the penis visible over the top seam. He opened the door and ushered me out. As bidden I went straight over to the Principal's table passed on to an empty one, cleared some glasses away and walked back past him, conscious of his stare at my middle. Despite the teacher's efforts it didn't take long for me to subside again, and by the time I reached the bar it had disappeared safely inside the material again. Because of the tightness of the loincloth around my testicles now it wouldn't resume the normal hanging position, but stood up from them, ready to show itself again should it be aroused.

Jimmy returned from the assignment rooms.

"God, he's ugly," he said, and nodded to where one of the monitors was just sitting down.

"What did he get you to do?" I asked.

"Oh, he stripped me and felt everywhere, then put his mouth over everything I've got. He even licked me up the bum. I hope it was dirty for him."

He giggled. I wondered what his real mental state was.

"Are you feeling all right about it?"

"Oh yea. If you think of them as money in the bank it's easy."

Could I do that, come the event?

The exercise finished eventually, but not before they had made us all go up onto the stage and change back into Institution shorts and T-shirts. Which, of course, meant our taking off the loincloths and standing there while proper clothes were fetched. They all got a good look at us.

Once free, we went out to the pool and relaxed mentally and physically, discussing the day's events. Except for one or two we may all have enjoyed the company of our own sex, but what we had been required to do had disgusted most of us. It was only the fact that we had been training up to it, and we were all undergoing the same treatment together that made it mentally bearable. We were all subdued that evening, and Billy had to find me for my extra session. These were still going on, I think because nobody had told him to stop, and because I think he rather liked me. I discussed it all with him as he operated on me.

"Yeah, it's a bit gross when you start, I know. But you really do start to look on the clients as banknotes, like your Jimmy says, and that takes a lot of the euchh factor out of it. I've been doing it for months, now, and doing the shows too, and they're 3;"

I'm sure he was about to say 'worse', but he stopped himself.

" 3; different. You'll probably see the first session of these, the tame ones. The ones I do come when the beginners have gone."

"Why?"

"They just do. Now look, are we going to carry on with your penis, or shall I get a monitor to do it?"

"What are the monitors?"

"You've asked me that before. Apart from the obvious, I think they're probably actual child molesters, whose alternatives are either keeping a control on themselves here or else prison. When they do get their hands on us they're certainly very certain about what they want, and not gentle about it either. But then you know that. Rest assured that it's only the presence of the video today which kept your assignments comparatively tame."

"What would they have done?"

"Can't you guess by now?"

"Well, not to be sure."

"Haven't you heard of anal sex?"

"What, when they fuck your bum?"

"Yes. You'll get trained to that, but it's got to be done carefully. Monitors aren't careful. It was one of their type that did me in that time. I was lucky, there wasn't any real damage. But if it was a question of being raped by one of them, or if he really wanted to put you through it, there's every chance you'd end up in hospital. They'd operate, and you'd be all right, but you'd be no good for the clubs and couldn't earn any money that way."

I was silent. All that I had feared was encompassed in that paragraph.

"Doesn't it hurt?" I asked rather shakily.

"No. You're trained. What happened between that teacher and you was right at the limit of the training, that's why it was so bad. You've never had anyone up there, have you?"

"No. Why, have you?"

"Yes," he said simply, and this time would say no more.

Once again we were too tired and a bit scared of stray orgasms to do much that night. We had all swum hard, having organised a sort of mini-olympics amongst ourselves. We made do with a gentle hug between the three of us, and settled down to sleep. My mind kept returning to its state at various points through the day, when I had had to do – or had agreed to do against my better judgement – various things which I thought I'd never even think of what, two months ago? Was that all it was? It seemed as if sex activities and real life was here, and what had gone before was cloud-cuckoo land. Was it just nine weeks since Chris and I had sat on that bed together?

My physical exhaustion overruled my active imagination and any nightmares I might have had, and I slept soundly and long.

The day dawned and almost immediately I had a sick feeling in my stomach. Tonight was the first ever time at the club. I felt my pulse quicken. As the others woke I could sense their tension too: Jimmy looked actively scared. I asked him if he was, and he just nodded.

Lessons for the day proved to be another mock club session in the morning, and a free afternoon. The club session was to prove more traumatic than before, since we were warned that we were to be asked to perform services for which we weren't prepared, and which we must refuse. Apart from being approached, as were a lot of us, by the biggest, ugliest monitors in the Institution and asked for everything from "Having it with you" to "I want to get my cock up your arse and fuck you 'til you split", both of which shook me and worried me severely, I coped very well. In fact I ended up doing very little in terms of sexual activity, which was probably just as well.

The time wore on. After the mock session it was lunch, and with nothing to occupy our minds except the knowledge that the evening was approaching we found that we couldn't eat, were moody, quiet and tetchy with each other. There were times when I found myself shaking and weepy. Nobody knew what to do or say, and any suggestions were likely to get the maker's head bitten off. Most people used the pool: at least we could keep our bodies moving. There was no thought of any sexual activity even between the three of us, but at least we were still even tempered with each other. We were all silent. Eventually Jimmy could stand it no longer and we found him sobbing his heart out in a corner.

"I don't want to do it!" he kept saying. "I don't want to. I won't. They can't make me. I'll just sit here and say I'm not going."

We sat with him and tried to comfort him. At least it stopped us thinking. At length he gave a watery smile, told us he still felt sick, and would we stay with him?

We went to the room and just laid on the bed, eyes open, trying to come to terms with it all. I think that eventually we each must have drowsed off, although if the others had such unpleasant thoughts as I had I can't believe that they actually slept either.

Eventually the buzzer sounded, and we all jumped up as if it was a rifle shot, adrenaline shooting into our arteries, blood pounding in our ears 3; I thought of the books and films I 'd scared myself with as a kid, where the condemned man is awoken in his cell on the morning of his execution. It's as well that my thought process had exorcised most of the agony from my mind, or else that thought would have reduced me to a gibbering wreck.

We made our way, with a lot of other, silent boys from our group, to the main hall, as instructed. We were given our old clothes back, and put them on. My underpants – everybody's – were missing, and we assumed that the monitor who dealt with us on our first morning had stolen them as a souvenir. As I stood up wearing long trousers for the first time in weeks I felt so odd, constricted, hot. Institution shorts were loose, short and revealing, but they were also cool in the hot climate there. I looked around me, and almost laughed.

Clothes alter ages.

Colin, my friend, my lover, my supporter, always seemed to me to be 16 or 17. In the grey trousers and white shirt he had worn in court in England he appeared more like 20. Our super little Jimmy, the sporting, no-nonsense, funloving, horny little Jimmy, was dressed in an old baggy pair of purple tracksuit bottoms and a long, long Mickey Mouse T-shirt. He appeared about 5. Others I found to look older or younger too: the effect was no respecter of actual age or bearing, but was a combination of facial appearance, height, hairiness of chin and hair style, but above all, clothes. Billy's suave appearance – he was there as a prefect – looked comical alongside Chris's home-wear clothes: the former looked well over 20, whilst the adolescent Chris seemed reduced to childhood again.

Once we were ready the doors opened and the rest of the school entered. Having done it before they were all quite normal, and the fact made us feel a lot better. The indicator needle of my mental state crept up. With them on our side and the three of us together, it wouldn't be too bad, would it?

Four minibuses were waiting in the compound. I realised with a thrill that we were actually going outside the gates for the first time. The fact had dropped off my agenda of items to consider – the idea of the club had forced all other considerations from my mind. The idea of escape swam in front of me, but reality crowded in quickly: no idea where I was, no idea of the language, no money, no passport 3; I might keep myself alive, but I'd never get home. And the main thought: if escape was a possibility at any time, I swore to myself that I'd never leave without Colin and Jimmy.

We enjoyed the journey, watching the strange trees, the occasional people in the villages, none of whom took any notice of us, the mountains around, the views over sundrenched, bunt looking valleys. And eventually we reached the outskirts of a town, and age and shabbiness set in. There was no sign giving its name. Our hearts sank, and didn't rise again until the buildings appeared to become grander, older, better cared for: we were in the city centre. Clubs of the special nature of those we were going to are on the outside of the main, touristy parts, and sure enough the bus wove its way round the back streets until it came to a standstill in a poor, narrow street which reminded me of the worse parts of London.

Under the watchful eyes of the four monitors who were our guards, we clambered out thankfully, only to be greeted by the most used-smelling air I've ever breathed. I looked round for the other buses, but found only one.

"Where are the other buses?" I asked Billy.

"They go to a different club. This one's where everybody starts. It's mainly men of the 'uncle' type in here, the boylovers, and they're harmless. They'll just want to talk to you, perhaps hug you, and want to take you home with them. There are paedophiles here too, and they're the ones who want you to do things with them. We don't get molesters – except the one in the other club that did me. Look, I'll tell the others when we get inside, and I'm surprised they didn't tell you all this at the Institution."

The door we were near was obviously a back door. We went down a passage lined with cases of empty bottles and rubbish bags, and were led into a large room with two other doors leading from it. There were chairs and tables standing in haphazard positions, a few mirrors, and a water dispenser with cups.

Billy took charge as we twelve boys from the bus milled around.

"This is the changing room. You know when you can come here, and there must always be one of the monitors or teachers with you when you come in. Doors are locked at other times. That door leads to a passage which brings you out on stage. You'll only go through that once tonight, at the end of your session when you change. The other one leads out to the clubroom, and that's where you'll go after here."

He continued, clarifying a few points and telling us what he had told me about the sort of people they'd get there. I think that stilled a lot of fears, especially the bit about the people actually liking boys.

We were told to get changed. One of the monitors opened a bag and emptied from it a tidy bundle of red shorts. They appeared to be of the same cut as we were used to; that is, they were wide enough to get two thighs through each leg comfortably, and just long enough to cover a limp penis of normal size. That was a problem for a few of us – not me! – because the only way they were able to keep it hidden in the Institution was to push the shorts halfway down their belly. This was uncomfortable, so usually they didn't bother, and were used to having a bit of their privacy visible under the bottom hem under some conditions. Seeing one or two who were thus visible, Billy found the biggest shorts he could find, which nearly worked for them. At least the effect didn't look so obvious!

"Before it opens, you need to se the layout of the place. Come with me, and listen."

He showed us the bar, the tables, the toilets, the assignments rooms and their equipment, where the teachers who were coming down later would stand, and told us that when we weren't 'engaged' we should sit with our backs to the stage, knees bent upwards. He told us to refer to the bar staff if there was a problem with drinks prices – as we ordered them from the bar we were to present the client's tab, it was marked off, and then they were returned with the drinks. Debits for our services were also entered on them, before the performance of them. We wandered around, getting the feel of the place. It wasn't badly furnished, if you like clubs, but since, at fourteen, I'd not visited any I had no idea what to expect.

Our state of mind at this stage was one of excitement – probably anticipation is a better word. We had been much calmed by Billy's description of the likely clientele, and certainly I was expecting a lot of pleasant 'uncle' types; the sort of people who like you for what you are, but are harmless. Jimmy the irrepressible had conquered all his nerves and was on some sort of high, expecting the doors to open and 'his public' to come in. "But not too many," he stipulated to us mockingly. "I want to get a good look at them first."

It was about half an hour later that three of our teachers walked in and called us all to them.

"Have you got all the information you need?" one asked.

"Yes, sir," we chorused automatically.

"There are two important things that we deliberately leave until the last moment, because they are important. So LISTEN. Firstly, you must none of you drink any alcohol. If you get into a situation where you think that someone has put anything alcoholic into your drink, leave it alone. Anybody returning with alcohol on their breath will receive a punishment, and the more alcohol, the more severe it will be. Got that?"

It was such a threat that nobody spoke, but we all nodded.

"The second thing is that you MUST tell people, when they ask, that you live locally and do this for money. There is to be no mention of the Institution or why you're here. This is because it is a turn off for the clients, as they want to believe that you're here solely because you want to be. If there is any hint of your past you'll find that the work, the tips – you'll get those too – and the drinks and food from the clients will dry up, and you'll probably lose the work for your friends and everyone at the Institution as well. So you can imagine that if anything you say threatens that the punishment is very grave indeed. Now is that understood?"

We all nodded again, and were dismissed to wander round again. This time everyone was thinking hard, digesting this last piece of information. We were most of us so young and out of our depth in this that we couldn't see anything except that what he had told us must be the truth. Being young and idealistic we didn't want to endanger the money-making ability of the others, it was just too big a thing to contemplate. And besides many of the others were bigger than me, and could take action: I wanted to lose no more pubic hair or dignity either.

Shortly afterwards we got word from the club manager, who came to inspect us, that the doors would open soon. This was the man who had insisted that I strip at the first preview, when the Principal had got rid of the unpleasant club.

"There are about ten or so queuing, so you'll have to be careful you don't swamp them. If you see someone at a table, leave it alone. There are to be no arguments. All right? Here goes."

Chapter 18
First Session

They were mostly younger than I expected. None of them was attractive, as such, but then none of them filled me with the disgust that most of the Institution's monitors did, either. Their reaction to the boys was interesting. Just as my colleagues were inspecting faces and clothes and bodies, trying to sum these adults up in the way every schoolboy sums up a teacher, the clients were inspecting too. Some of them, I saw, didn't know where to look first. Smiles came to the faces as their eyes lit on first one, then another, of the youthful bodies moving in front of them. I was mainly watching Jimmy, conscious suddenly that he was so vulnerable. He stopped in front of one of the tables, and just looked at its occupant, with a just the slightest of smiles on his face. To give the man his credit, he indulged in none of the eye sweeps over the body that all the others were giving. He just looked straight back at the youngster, and the smile that had sprung to his face softened to a look of genuine liking, of care. What was in Jimmy's mind, I couldn't read. I decided that I would try to visit that table later to try and talk to the man.

My body, now the mind was engaged elsewhere, had returned to normal, and this was just as well as more and more people were filing into the room. One of them found his way to a table near me, sat down, looked around and smiled straight at me. I blinked, dragged my courage and pleasantness to the surface and walked over to him.

"Hallo," he said, "I hear there are new boys here. Are you one of them?"

"Yes sir."

"I'm not a sir, my friend, I'm Gary, and I'm delighted to see you. If you make mine one of your tables I'd be very happy. So far it's only me here, and, apart from a bit of company from you if you agree, I'd like it to stay that way. What's your name?"

"Paul."

"Have you done this sort of thing before?"

"No. It's my first time."

"First time? Well, I hope you enjoy it and that it's lucrative for you. I'd like a drink, if that's OK, and I'd like to buy one for you, so you can take the weight off your feet, sit down and drink it with me here."

Should I charge him for doing that? For the drinks, yes, of course, and I was glad he was buying me one because I was genuinely thirsty. I thought back. No, that was free, but I had to watch for calls from elsewhere. I went to the bar with his tab and found Colin there. He had been found by an older man, bearded, balding and stocky, but who seemed genuinely interested in him and was certainly easy to talk to. We exchanged information, took our trays and were about to head back when he nudged me, nearly causing a major accident.

"Look out for Jimmy, won't you. He seems all right at the moment, but 3; well."

I assured him that I was keeping a watchful eye open for him. In fact, although I had started off doing so, my attention was so wrapped up in my client that I hadn't noticed what was happening. On my way back with the drinks I looked over to his table and found him sitting on the knee of his man, who had his arm round his waist and was talking earnestly to him. The boy seemed perfectly at ease, and was even nuzzling up closer to his subject.

I felt a sudden stab of jealousy. He was mine! He shouldn't do that! How could he make up to somebody like that? I think common sense eventually returned because I knew he was probably only making the most out of his client as he could. With backward glances I returned to my own and put the tray carefully down on the table.

"He's a good looking lad, isn't he?" asked my client.

"Is he a friend of yours?" I nodded, looking round at the other table again.

"Hmm. A bit more than a friend, perhaps. Well, he's got a living to make, too. Don't worry. He'll come back when the evening's over. If I can, I'll get him here. If I pay you, will you stay with me?"

I nodded again, still anxious. Yes, Jimmy would be back. But would he be so full of his big uncle that he wouldn't want to know us?

We chatted, although it was a bit one sided. I suppose I was still jealous. I had to go to the bar for other people now and again, but he – Tom was his name – was so welcoming and undemanding that I always gravitated to his table. Eventually he asked me if I'd accept a commission to stay with him for the whole evening.

"The thing is," I said, "That we can only stay with somebody if they want us to 3; um 3;"

He hadn't once mentioned sex, or anything like that, so I was starting from being tongue tied about mentioning it. Did I want to do anything with him? No, not really. He wasn't bad looking, but he was adult and I wasn't really attracted to him in that way. I felt comfortable with him, but to talk to, not to sleep with.

"To do what?" he asked.

"Well 3; er 3; to get to know you better," I finished lamely.

"This is my first time here. I'll be delighted to get to know you better, but what did you have in mind?"

"Well." I took the plunge. "I mean, physically better."

He said nothing, but I could see his eyes widen.

"Are you trying to entrap me?"

I had no idea what he was talking about, and said so.

"I mean that we go somewhere, you take your clothes off or something, then the management come in and the Police are called. Is that it?"

"No, no. Look, there are lots of people going into rooms all over the place. See where the lights are on outside those doors? Lots of our boys are getting 3; um 3; to know their people in there."

He looked wonderingly around, saw tables with drinks on that were full before, then looked at the doors at the back of the club with the lights on outside. Two were empty. He sagged in his chair, and I could see his hands were trembling.

"D-do you mean that you would willingly come with me into one of those rooms and that you'd take off your clothes?"

"Yes, of course. And I'd take yours off too, if you wanted, and let you touch me and I'd do what you wanted me to do on you, too."

I had floored him. He stared at me stupidly, mouth open. How do I persuade him, I wondered, banknotes floating in front of my imagination.

"I always promised 3;" he muttered. Then: "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, please."

He got up. I took his tab.

"What do I put on it?"

"What?"

"The tab. What do I put on it?"

"What you like. Just let's get a room while there's one free."

"I'll put down that we're going to be fondling each other, shall I? If it's anything else I can add it afterwards."

He nodded, still rather dazed. I led the way over to one of the free rooms and went in. It was as I had been told, quite bare apart from a chair, a table and a wide couch. After my glance I turned back toward the door and found him still waiting there, framed in it.

"Are you sure this is all right with you? Please, if you'd rather not, just say. I'll not be offended."

"No," I lied.

"I want to."

He came in and shut the door, and stood there looking at me. I think he was still trembling. The next thing I knew he was across to me, and I was in his arms.

"Paul 3; Oh Paul 3;"

This was a bit too much like Mr French, but the feeling of this man's emotion was different. I felt safe, secure. I was even flattered, and ready to do what my training had readied me for. He released me eventually, with all but his eyes which fastened on to mine.

"At least let's start of level," he said. "I'll take off everything except my trousers – or I suppose my boxers, if you've got nothing under there?"

I sat on the edge of the bed and put my feet on the edge of it. The baggy shorts slid back. I pulled them over to one side to show him. He froze. Then in a frenzy he started tugging at his shirt, his shoes, his socks 3; I felt 'd better try and calm him down. I crossed to him and just put my arms round him. He stopped.

"There's plenty of time. Here, let me."

I removed the shirt from his back, using my palms on his chest as much as I could, then kissed his nipples, knowing how that affected me. For some reason I wanted it to be as good as possible for him. It was my first time, after all. He made a small noise at that, so I looked straight up at his face and smiled.

I have to say that the expression on it was so assuring, so gentle, so wondering that I almost felt I could fall for him, old though he was. About my age now, in fact.

I knelt at his feet to finish taking of his shoes, but he backed away and sat down.

"Better let me do that." Rapidly he removed them and his socks, then stood up again. I had missed the bulge in his trousers before, but I couldn't now. Sitting down had allowed the angle of it against his body to change, and as he stood up it was reluctant to be restrained again. It looked quite interesting.

We stood for a moment, watching each others' bodies, summing up. Enjoying? I still couldn't see what there was to enjoy in mine, but I suppose he was enjoying it. Apart from his bulging fly which I found interesting: well, he was OK, that's all. I looked back at his face. He looked back enquiringly into mine, then came towards me again and stopped a few inches before his bulge touched my stomach. I reached forward and touched the tip, ran my fingers so slowly down its length. The action made my body spring to life, a fact he noticed as he looked down. Mine was pushing against the short, loose leg of my shorts, pushing the cloth out and slightly up. He smiled at me again, that gentle, wondering smile.

Without any rush or fuss I undid his belt and the top of his trousers, then put my hand on the tag of the zip. Slowly I pulled down, and a pair of white boxers came into sight, a large wet patch where he was distending them. Again I traced him from the tip downwards, over the slippery wet patch and down onto the bulge underneath. With the other hand I eased his trousers down over his bottom and down his legs. He stepped slowly out of them.

I was starting to get interested.

It's amazing what a sensitive thing the thigh is. I traced my fingers up each of his in turn, like we had done in our training on the first day. He went weak at the knees and had to hold on to the edge of the couch to steady himself.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable lying down?"

"I don't know. Perhaps."

He swung his legs up onto the bed, and slowly laid back. The effort had produced a new patch of wetness from him, and I realised that it was me who was responsible for all of this. I was quite impressed! I worked on him from the side for some time, just on the thighs, and was quite pleased to see the material above the tip of his penis become actively wet. When I thought it was time I climbed onto the couch and knelt astride him. He looked up at me with what I thought of as the eyes of an anticipating dog – and I don't mean that nastily. Very gently I laid my hand on his testicles, forefinger under his legs, and squeezed slowly upwards a little. He drew in his breath.

I started exercising him through his boxers, moving the material so as to soak as much of it with his fluid as possible – it was a kind of game, but he didn't realise I was playing it. My own erection was bobbing up and down as I moved, and it wasn't long before his hand reached timidly out toward my shorts.

"Let me kneel between your legs," I suggested.

As we shifted I let my shorts ride even further up my thighs. The end of my penis must have been almost visible. I sat back on my heels.

As if he was touching an eggshell he brushed my thigh with his fingers, then, so very gently and slowly, started doing to me what I had been doing to him. I don't know if he'd ever been with another man – certainly he'd never been with another boy – or whether he had just learnt from me, but he certainly got to my sensitive spots. The end of the leg of my shorts was soon showing a damp patch, which as it spread, made my manhood give up the unequal struggle against friction. It slid out of the end of my shorts. As it appeared, pushing the foreskin back slightly, he looked at it, then smiled at me, then back at it: it appeared wet, and swollen, and ready; quite exciting, even to me. It certainly felt as if it should be excited.

His fingers, again hesitant, touched the tip, then encircled the end with the utmost gentleness. As I fondled with him, he traced down the length of me, and up again, and down 3;

"Lie by my side," he whispered. "Please?"

So I moved myself carefully to lie by him, and immediately he put his arms around me and drew me to him tightly. I really felt as though, for the first time since I had been torn away from home, an adult really liked me for something apart from my body. As we lay there we moved closer, and the bulge in his shorts ended under my legs, and mine coincided with his belly. After a period of inactivity I wondered what was going to happen next, so I asked him, quietly, what he wanted to do.

"I want to take you home with me."

I had an answer ready for this. "I can't do that, I live with others and I can't leave them." Well, it was a get-out, but it was also true. He said nothing, but I could feel his hands starting to stroke my back and then my waist, and then my bottom. It was comforting in a strange, rather exciting way.

"Can I put my hands inside your shorts?"

"Yes," I replied. "Or you could take them off if you want."

He looked at me again. Then he slowly put one hand down the back of them while the other went down inside the front, encountering my erection on the way. He withdrew them, and sat up. I made to do the same but he motioned me down again. Standing at the side of me he pulled steadily at my waistband, and eased the shorts over my sensitive penis and down my legs while I raised myself off the couch to let them pass my bottom. He pulled them off my feet and stood there looking at me lying flat out, stark naked again.

Not even Colin had kissed me from head to toe, yet this is what happened next. I was not surprised that he paid most attention to my nipples and belly-button, then to my still sparse pubic hair, which seemed to fascinate him. He ran his tongue around in it for a long time, his cheeks and chin pushing the pulsing organ underneath out of the way. My pendulous testicles also received more than their fair share of attention, being tongued and gently taken into his mouth and played with in there for ages. He even licked me right under them, and once his tongue reached the start of the cleft between my buttocks, but I made no effort to move and he tried to go no further. He left the penis alone, concentrating on each thigh in turn, then each calf, then my feet. He even took my toes in his mouth.

I felt wet everywhere he had licked me, which was on most parts of my body, but I also felt incredibly at peace. I had not felt so loved as this since I was last hugged by my mother. Yet this was different. This was adult. Not frighteningly adult, just 3; loved. Oh yes, it was sexual, but even to me at that age it was obvious that he loved – or even just liked a lot – me, for myself. Had I kept my clothes on he would still have loved me. As it was I felt more naked than I had ever done before, even taking into account the times I had been forced to expose myself in front of crowds of people. Yet this was not a horrified, stomach churning nakedness, this nakedness was a peaceful, totally relaxed, willing, acceptance that whatever happened next it would be right, would be enjoyable, would be powered by love. In writing that I have tried to explain my state of mind, and my best efforts seem to fall short of the mark. I never even thought of my real lover, Colin, as I lay there, it was just a total release. If you think of when you are young, when you have needed to visit the toilet for some time for both of the normal requirements at once: when eventually you are sitting there in peace and privacy you can let every muscle in your body go and it doesn't matter. That physical release was the equivalent of my state of mind.

I thank my passivity must have got to him, for his head approached mine again and he looked anxiously for signs that I hadn't passed out. Slowly I formed a smile, and it must have turned something on in his mind, for with eyes bright with tears he breathed my name twice and kissed me on the lips. I just had to throw my arms round him. I don't know why, but I did. Then he was kneeling over me, then lying by my side, then rocking me in his arms, hugging me so tightly I could hardly breathe.

I think that gradually brought me back to my senses, and I started to struggle to get free. As soon as he felt me resist he released me immediately and looked at me, shocked.

"I thought 3; I mean 3; Oh 3;"

"I couldn't breathe."

"Oh 3; Paul. I'm sorry. I love you so much. I can't bear the thought of you going home with someone else and I might never see you again. Promise me you'll come back here? Tomorrow? Next week? Please?"

"I'll try." I meant it. He was so gentle, and was doing things to me I'd never dreamed of doing even to 3; Colin! It was then I remembered him. And Jimmy, who I was meant to be looking out for. My mind was in a turmoil again. What do I do? I really had no choice. This was my client, and I had to do whatever he wanted, or was prepared to pay for.

We were still lying side by side. It struck me there was a simple way to bring matters to a head – literally.

So I bent over his genitals and licked tentatively at his penis which by now was starting to droop.

Not for long.

He lay back with a sigh and let me work on him to my heart's content. I gave him a very good money's worth, raising him to excitement until I was sure he was going to come, then starting on his belly button or nipples. I even remembered the ear lobes from one of our early lessons, and as I stretched out straight to reach them my leg crossed his and our erections touched. While I worked on him there I could sense he was watching our genitals as they rubbed together. We were both wet, and the amount of fluid we were generating would have lubricated a car.

By this time some of my feeling for him had returned, which is another way of saying that thoughts of my two lovers had been put aside from my mind again temporarily. I finished with him there and sat up astride him, our penises still adjacent. With mine raised slightly over the level of his body it meant that the two tips were more or less level. With difficulty I encircled us both with my still small hand and massaged us both up and down, wondering if it would work. He got the message immediately, and with his hands started fondling at our testicles. Because I could only just about get my hand round us both it was not the violent jerk-off that I know a lot of the boys at the Institution used, and what I had been led to believe our clients would appreciate. But is was at least kind on my sensitive glans which, because I was not totally in control of it, was getting rather more of a bashing than I was used to. I need not have worried. It took only a few minutes, maybe five, when he gave a deep, shuddering gasp and shot load after load of semen over his chest and my hand. The release this gave him transmitted itself to me, and he was just dying down when I did the same. It was a fitting climax to his showering of me with love, for between us we produced a coating on his stomach which would take some little time to clean off. I really felt at one with him then. We had shared so much since we had come into the room that the release of the tension was incredible. He sank back, and I collapsed beside him, totally worn, and we lay there, clasping hands, for what seemed like ages.

At length he stirred, and I thought that that was the end of it, we'd both go back into the club and talk. Something in the back of my mind told me it was not going to end there, though. My eyes were still shut, although I had recovered enough.

"Paul? Paul?"

I opened them as languorously as possible. He was looking at me again with that dog-like look of adoration which I found – still – so attractive.

"Paul 3; please 3; come home with me. I've got a nice house, and a good job so I can afford to take you places and give you a good time. I'll make it up to your people, really I will. But although I've never been with a boy before, now I've met you I don't want anyone else and I just want you with me all the time. Please, Paul."

For just a second I wondered if there was the remotest possibility that we could get away without discovery , without apprehension. I knew there was not. And I knew the likely punishment for trying. It would be more than losing a few pubic hairs. Would they make me spend time in the monitors' quarters? Nobody had ever mentioned it as such, but it seemed a possibility. I shuddered.

"Do I disgust you so much? I thought you liked me?"

"It's not that. I do. It's just 3;" I swallowed. How could I explain.

"I'll see you if you're here again tomorrow, if we come here. I don't decide. The arrangements are made by the 3; others. But if you're here, I'll come with you, and we'll 3; do whatever."

"But what if they don't decide to come here? I might never see you again."

"I think they will, if not tomorrow then some other time. Are you going to come back here?"

"Of course. But I can't afford to come twice every week, even if all I do is sit in the club. Can't you tell me if you're coming? Or can't you come to me at other times, at home?"

"I can't do that. I'm not allowed."

"Then I shall come to your house, and explain I'm a relative, and ask to take you out for a day."

"No. You mustn't try to find me. Oh, please, just leave it. I'll try to see you here."

I thought.

"There's one thing you could do. If you really only want to visit the club when I'm here then you could be outside the back entrance about an hour before the place opens. We arrive in minibuses. You'll be able to see me get out. But don't make it obvious, and don't try to recognise me."

He looked puzzled at this. He had no idea what was going on in my life. I had no idea why I was telling him all this. I liked him, yes, and he had made me feel special, but I couldn't say I loved him. Perhaps I was subconsciously thinking that if he was here, and acceptable to me, I wouldn't have to put up with somebody else who wasn't.

There was a shower attached to the room, and naturally he asked me to share it with him. We washed each other, and hugged, with the slippery soapsuds making it a very exciting experience. Apart from embracing we didn't try anything else, yet by the time we had rinsed off we were each very hard again. I towelled him down, and couldn't resist wiping the towel in between his buttocks. He straightened up as if he'd been poked in the back and turned on me.

"Don't! Don't ever do that!"

I backed away, startled.

"Oh, Paul, I'm sorry. It's just that, when I was a child my father used to touch me there and 3; well, it hurt. I promise never to touch you there, unless you want me to, and I can't imagine ever allowing anybody to do it to me. Not even you. I'm sorry."

I told him it was all right with me, and that I'd never really been touched there either, although that wasn't strictly the truth. I was rather touched by his need to explain it to me though, and wondered what his father had really done. Certainly it was nothing nice, and I felt a rush of sympathy for him. As we stood, naked, drying off, I looked at him with one of the smiles on my face that he seemed to like: eventually he caught it and gave one of his gentle smiles back. We embraced, and kissed once again, which brought the inevitable reaction to each of us. It was all right for him. He had a pair of boxers and long trousers to wear. Al I had was a thin, short, wide pair of shorts. My condition was obvious, and it was only the prospect of facing the outside world of the club that made it subside. He finished dressing and gave a gasp.

"D'you know how long we've been in here?"

"Half an hour? Forty five minutes?"

"Two and a quarter hours!"

I was taken aback. Would I get into trouble? What if I had missed the change? What if they had gone back without me? I wrenched open the door and looked out, panic stricken. The first thing I saw was one of our boys serving at a table. He was wearing only the loincloth we had been told about. Instead of covering his bum, though, it had been gathered in to fit down between his buttocks. As I watched, he turned round and saw me watching, and raised his eyes to the ceiling. In front the cloth seemed to be twisted under his legs, flare out for a bit, and then go into a twist again just before it was held by the belt. It just about contained his genitals, but only just. They wobbled significantly as he walked. In the ratings of decency they measured about 0.5.

It seemed I was late for changing. I ushered Gary back to his table rather hurriedly and told him I would return, then went to see one of the teachers who was talking to the barman at the back.

"Sorry, sir, but I've been with my client for ages. I missed the change."

"I noticed. It's all very well, but unless you're quicker than that you'll never earn much at all. You should try to hurry things up, you know. I mean, if you were enjoying it I suppose that's different, but he's a lot older than you."

I said nothing.

"All right. Come with me and we'll get you changed." He led the way back to the changing room.

"Stand there. Take off your shorts."

Feeling rather odd, I complied. The only times a teacher had told me to strip on my own, something unpleasant had happened. He buckled a belt around me, just under the waist. Next a loincloth was folded over it at the back and secured. There was some fumbling; not of me, of the cloth.

"Legs apart. Wider. No, as wide as you can."

He pulled on the cloth and brought it between my legs. I felt it separate my buttocks. He had twisted it so as to expose them.

"Sir, can't I wear it as we practised?"

"No. We've changed it. It's in your interests. Close your legs."

As I did so he pulled again and twisted the cloth so it became a stiff bar under my legs. He fanned the remainder out and brought it up either side of my testicles and over the penis, then twisted again to bring it together into a rope. The ends went under the belt.

It gave me just about enough freedom inside the flared out part to wobble and, I thought, to show off an erection if I had one. It was very uncomfortable.

"Right," he said. "Out you go. You've only got about forty five minutes left before you go and the advanced ones take over. So make the most of it. And go to somebody else this time. The man you were with has probably shot his load with you, so he won't be spending any more serious money tonight, I should think."

This was a blow. Then I remembered something.

"I have to go back to him, sir. I have to adjust his tab."

"What do you mean?"

"He only paid me for a strip and a fondle, and it went further than that."

"I see. You should have told me that before we came in. I hope he's not gone."

"I don't think he will have, sir. He enjoyed my company and wants me to go back."

"Does he now? Well, it's up to you, but think about your income. Out you go now, and make sure."

Suddenly shy again, I turned my bare bottom to him and followed my wobbling genitals out into the club. As I made my appearance, every eye in the place seemed to swivel towards me, but when they saw it was only another nondescript 14 year old they looked away. All except one: Gary. He held me in his stare all the way to his table. I didn't mind him looking. We had shared more than that.

"Well," he said as I came into earshot. "It's very sexy."

"It's very uncomfortable," I told him.

"Why do you wear it?"

"We're told to."

"Don't you get a chance to refuse?"

"Not really. Look, I'm sorry, but I've been more or less told to visit other tables apart from yours. I'd better do what they say, or else they'll suspect something's up. Can we just sort out the tab, though?"

"The tab? Oh yes. I know you've got to make a living. I only wish you could 3; well, you know."

"I know, yes, but it's just not possible. Perhaps after a time 3;"

"What? You mean you will then? Oh, Paul, you don't know how happy that would make me."

I'd tripped over my tongue. What I meant was that when I was released I might go and stay with him, to have him as my dad, but with more as well. I'd forgotten Colin and Jimmy again for the moment. Oh damn. He'd have to take the three of us or none. And then where would that leave my love for Colin? I couldn't split myself in two emotionally. I was only thirteen but I realized that.

"I meant a long time in the future, you know, months, maybe a year. When I wasn't needed at home."

"But if they need money from you, why can't I provide it? I can give them enough to make up for your earnings."

"It's not that simple. I'm sorry, let's just leave it, Please? Look, here's the tab. I'll put this on it and that'll straighten it."

I put down what I thought was the right amount – it was the maximum on our scale anyway. I hoped he didn't mind, but then I thought: what did it matter if he did mind? If he got ratty with me or the club, well it wasn't my problem, and he wouldn't come back and chase me or ask awkward questions or offer me things I couldn't accept.

It'd be a shame, though. I liked him. He was kind, and unassuming, and considerate.

I was about to walk away from the table when I caught sight of his face. In the two hours since I had met him I had seen many expressions on it, concern, love in many forms, amusement, regret, sadness, disbelief 3; and this time I saw a look of loss, of having been let down. I went back to him and whispered.

"I'll be back. I'll see you again."

Then I walked away.

The rest of the forty five minutes was spent with an older man who seemed entranced by my wobbly bits to the extent that he couldn't keep his eyes off them. At first I was extremely uncomfortable about it, but eventually saw the funny side. He was too nervous to ask me to do anything, but just sent me to the bar about four times to get him soft drinks just so he could see me walk back. Once I had realized what was happening I made a great show of it, deliberately bouncing on my feet to show it off. He went so red I thought he was going to explode. During this I managed to keep my eyes on Jimmy, who had been 'adopted' by a pleasant looking man. They seemed to have hit a chord, as they kept going off into peals of laughter. Colin was sitting with a nondescript type who was obviously very taken with him, but who seemed monosyllabic. Colin kept getting up to serve other people, so I could see he wasn't so struck on his client.

Eventually we got the nod, and excused ourselves from our clients as soon as we reasonably could. Older boys from the Institution were coming into the club, and they appeared to be dressed in tight lycra shorts which really exaggerated their assets. It was really quite exciting, and I found myself reacting to it as I left my starer and crossed to the changing room. As I passed Gary, I noticed he too was looking down at my loincloth. Well, I said I was reacting 3; I was hoisting the loose folds upwards so it came above the restraining belt. No wonder!

I altered course so as to pass behind him, and as I did so bent to squeeze his shoulder and whisper "goodbye 3;" He looked sharply after me. I don't know what was in his mind.

In the safety of the changing room we were hushed from our natural desire to enquire about each others' experiences and to compare notes on the various clients we had served. We were told to pick up our own outdoor clothes and follow the teacher onto the stage. A monitor followed behind to make sure we all left. Nothing was left to chance. We emerged behind the stage, and were told in a whisper that we should be as sexy as we could in taking off our loincloths, and as slow as possible in pulling on our outdoor clothes. I wasn't so sure about this. I wanted to spend as little time naked as possible. I was nearly naked now, yes, but nearly isn't the same as completely. The only thing that made it bearable was that a dozen of us would all be in the same boat at the same time.

The lights in the club were dimmed. We could tell that. An announcer told everyone this was the moment they had been waiting for, that the floor show was about to start.

Floor show! Us?

We were shoved onto the stage, and immediately the lights came on, dazzling us completely. We might have been there alone. But we could hear a low, human noise coming from behind the lights which I found frightening. It was like an animal that had learnt to talk human, but had chosen to revert to a growl.

Prompted by a whisper from behind us I started fumbling at my belt, trying to release the cloth from it.

"Back! Turn round and start at the back," the whisper said. One or two of us heard, and turned our backs to the audience. Others took the hint. I felt behind me and managed to unfold the cloth trapped by the belt. It came away, but went nowhere as it was clenched tightly in my bum. I pulled gently, more to avoid discomfort than to excite, and my body thankfully, reluctantly, released the twisted stuff. As more of us did the same the growl from behind us increased in volume and slightly in pitch.

The twist hung from between my legs. I thought I had better turn round. As I did so my legs separated and the cloth came through them to the front. The strain was released from either side of my testicles, and the material hung loose in front of me. I looked round to see what progress the others were making. I didn't want to be first.

We were each at various stages. Someone along to my left stripped off the cloth and undid the belt in a businesslike way, standing for a second naked before turning to pick up his proper clothes. I thought I'd go a bit slower to let the others catch up so there were more of us to catch the eye, as it were. I turned to pick up my outdoor trousers. As I turned back again the swing of my body and of the cloth disagreed, and it pitched to one side, exposing my genitals for everyone to see.

This time it was my turn to be businesslike. I removed the cloth form the belt, then unbuckled that, stood for a moment as the growl grew louder and bent to pick up the trousers.

They weren't mine.

Panic stricken I turned again and saw mine just to my left, so I turned and snatched them, leaving the others where they were.

Now when you're young and dress in a hurry silly things happen. Like putting both feet down one leg of your trousers. Yes, it happened to me, then. I sorted myself out eventually, but it turned out that I was the last to make myself decent, so tied up I had become. Flustered, I made a better job of pulling on my T-shirt, and was glad when we all marched off the stage to a chorus of whistles and applause.

Oh god, why me?

We were all exhausted by the time we returned to the Institution. The whole episode tired us physically and mentally and, I suppose, emotionally. Some were able to detach themselves better than I had from Gary, and were less drained in that respect. Some, quite understandably, felt dirty, used, and just wanted a shower. In fact we all went in there, having stripped off in our rooms quite unashamedly. It seemed pointless to worry about nudity any more, and we were all in the same condition anyway. There was no playing in the shower, we were all too tired. We washed each other when it was easier to do so, we dried, we returned to our rooms. Jimmy was almost dead on his feet and was completely uncommunicative.

When we returned to our rooms our clothes had gone. The 'uniform' of the Institution was there in its place. We weren't surprised.

For the first time since joining forces we each laid separately and were asleep before our heads touched the pillow.

Chapter 19
And Afterwards

Colin had fared differently. Being obviously that much more mature he had been asked to let himself be acted on, and had been brought to orgasm twice in the course of the evening. The first time he had disliked almost as much as Jimmy had hated the fat one, because he was rough and just seemed to want to get him to come as quickly as possible. Colin had really felt battered after that, and not a little sore, and was disgusted by the way the man had just left him in the room to clean himself up as best he could. He was just glad not to have had to operate on his client. His second one was just the opposite, a gentle, quite good looking man who he had quite taken to. They had enjoyed stimulating each other, and the mounting excitement had been progressive and sensitive. They had ended up in each others' mouth, and orgasm had been almost simultaneous. Colin felt he had been treated as an equal partner rather than a sex object, and appreciated the fact. His client was quite interested in seeing him again, in or out of the club, and Colin managed to wriggle out of the 'out' invitation more successfully than I had.

I was wondering what to say about my own experience. They were intrigued that I had been such a long time, and worried too. In fact at one point Colin had asked if I was safe. That had prompted a look at the monitor for my room, from which it was obvious that I was very all right.

"It looked as if you were a bit taken with him," said Colin.

"I was quite jealous!" I said nothing for some moments.

"You were in love with him, weren't you?" Jimmy accused.

I looked at them, unhappily. "I don't know about being in love, but he was so kind. At first I didn't like his body much, but he had been so nice to me when we were talking, and it's his first time there too. When we went in he didn't know what to do, or what I'd do, or anything. He was very gentle, like yours, Colin, and it slowly became more and more 3; intense. Then he said he loved me and wanted me to go and live with him."

They exclaimed.

"What did you say to that?"

"I told him I couldn't, that I lived with other people and had to stay with them."

"That's good. Did he accept it?"

"Not really. He says he's got enough money to give me a good time and doesn't want anything in return except my company. I said there's no way I could, so he offered to pay my family to make up for my loss of earnings from the club."

I hesitated.

"I said I couldn't do that for ages, months, maybe a year."

Colin sat up suddenly, shooting the sheet off us.

"What? You said you go with him eventually?"

"You don't understand. It was in the heat of the moment. I just felt 3; safe."

"We keep you safe, here."

"I know, and I love you 3; both. Oh, damn. I knew I shouldn't have said anything. The thing is, he wants to see me each time we go there – he says he can afford that – so I told him 3;"

I looked around nervously. " 3; I told him to see if I got out of the minibus when it arrived at the back door."

I thought I was going to get called all the bloody fools under the sun. But Jimmy was too flabbergasted by the whole thing, and Colin was saying nothing, not even looking at me.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Then Colin turned round to me.

"Have you decided to take up with this 3; man?"

"No. No. Oh, you don't understand."

Despite my years I could feel tears getting very close. I was in danger of losing the best friend I ever had, and the only real lover I ever had to 3; well, to what? A man who made me feel safe because he was an adult in a way that Colin couldn't because he wasn't? A man who demanded nothing from me except what I was prepared to give, and then was amazed that I was prepared to give it?

"You don't understand!" I repeated fiercely.

Another silence. Jimmy crossed to me quietly and took my hand in his. That did it. I just turned to him and put my forehead on his shoulder and let the tears come as they would. Jimmy hugged me as best he could. I was hopelessly confused. I had no real experience of love and of that sort of emotion to go on. I was away from the steadying influence of my parents – as were we all – and I knew I loved Colin and I knew I loved Jimmy and I thought Gary could help me and I liked the things we had done together. In the midst of my misery a thought occurred to me, and when I was able I looked up, sniffed, and said in a choked voice: "Gary might take us all."

"Oh come on," exclaimed Colin. "He's not going to want the three of us! He's only interested in you. If he's that old I'm not going to like him, and if he's got any sense Jimmy won't touch him with a barge pole except as a client."

"But he's not like that. I like him. I'm not in love with him, although he says he loves me, but he's safe. He's kind. I know he'd take us all, if we wanted him."

"Well I don't want him. Really, Paul, you know they told us not to get involved with the clients. Look I'm sorry if you're upset, but I don't like the idea of someone I care for a lot going off with someone else. It's be bad enough if it was one of us here, but a client, and an old man at that!"

"He's not old," I protested, still in a choked up voice. "He's older than us, that's all. I know what you're saying, and I should have thought differently. And I know if he says anything I'm for it. And I don't want to lose you. Please Colin. I'm sorry, I really am."

Another silence. Then the sign I had been wanting all along. He smiled. True, not as brilliantly as usual, but it was a smile, and it was for me. At my side Jimmy saw it too, and his face lit up and he did a whoop. That made Colin's grin widen, and the next thing I knew I was in his arms, with Jimmy hugging us both. The old firm was back together. I did my best to put Gary out of my mind.

Until that evening, when we had to return to the club.

There was little different from the previous evening. Gary wasn't there, much to my relief as I didn't relish having to tell him that I didn't want anything else to do with him apart from as a client. This time I spread my favours around a bit, on a purely commercial basis of course, and managed to get covered in adult semen three times, sucked five penises, heard a lot of moans of pleasure, and came twice myself. I should say that some of these were with the same client: there wouldn't have been time, and I wouldn't have had the stamina, to service that many clients. My efforts at changing back into clothes was rather better: I had obviously calmed down a lot. Once more we were all exhausted by the time we returned, but had a mass shower where everyone helped everybody else get clean. Especially the younger ones who had really had enough and were getting fractious. Jimmy was swaying on his feet, and we once again Colin and I had to carry him back to our room. We kissed briefly, and knew nothing more until the morning.

Sunday was a day off. We woke very late. I wasn't sure how I felt, and lay for a long time just staring blankly at the ceiling. Was I mad to have passed up the chance of security with Gary when my time was up here? Did I love Colin that much? Would he go off me in favour of someone his own age? Would Jimmy keep with me, with us? If Colin did go, what would Jimmy do? What would I do? Questions rolled around me like thunder round a valley and I still had no answers.

"Penny for them." Colin's deep voice shocked my face into mobility. I looked to my left and found him smiling that caring, loving smile again as if nothing had happened. It answered most of my questions for me, anyway.

"I was miles away."

"I could tell."

"Have you been awake long?"

"About the same time you have, I should think."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you were miles away."

That seemed to bring us full circle. I said nothing.

"Well? Penny for them."

"It's nothing, really."

"I know your face too well to believe that. Are you still thinking about Gary?"

I was silent.

"That means you were. Look, I over reacted yesterday and I'm sorry. I don't want to lose you. I love you too much for that. And yes, I must have been jealous. I know he would mean security for when you get out, but don't you want to go back home? I do. But when I do I want you near me, and best of all with me. Him too," Pointing at the still sleeping Jimmy.

"But what's going to happen when we get out?"

"We'll have enough money to set up house if we want to. The three of us. Together."

"They'd never let me and Jimmy live with you! What about our parents? I'd want to be with them too."

"All we can do is to wait and see, and probably ask some questions nearer the time. In fact we may be able to ask questions tomorrow, when the Principal's in."

"D'you think he'd tell us?"

"We won't know until we ask. There's something else we need to ask, too. Letters. I'm sure we should be getting some. But nobody's had any. It's not just me – I mean, my parents may have given up. It's everybody."

I thought back to the scenes in court, trying to imagine what was in my parents' mind as they saw their only son accused and disgraced and sentenced and taken away. Would they want to see me again? I couldn't be sure. What I had done was so disgusting in the eyes of the law that they might just want to wipe the memory of me out of their minds. By their reaction at our discovery, Chris's parents obviously wanted him out of their lives for good. And they knew where we had gone and therefore how we were being trained to earn our livings when we returned. No, they wouldn't want to know the male prostitute they'd have as a son.

I think my tears at this revelation were balanced by the underlying knowledge that none of it was my fault. I hadn't chosen to be gay, and in fact I knew that it would have been an easier life had I been straight. I had often tried to think myself into liking girls as I liked boys, but it never worked. I had read up medical books to see if there was a cure, but nobody really seemed interested. Way back there was some talk of aversion therapy, but more modern opinion said it was next to useless.

The depression of abandonment (as I saw it) and the anger at being accused for something I couldn't help balanced each other in my mind. But the result was a coldness toward life in general that I didn't want either.

"I reckon everybody's parents will have given up on them. They must know what's happening here, and they're not likely to enjoy the result. We're all in the same boat as you, Colin."

"I can't believe it. I mean, did everybody get separated from their family as quickly as we did? Wasn't there time for anybody to see what the reaction was after they'd all cooled down? And what about the ones like Martin who really had done nothing? Wouldn't his family believe him over the accusations of another family, despite what the courts said? No. I don't believe it. I wonder 3; I think 3; that if the letters are getting through, they're not being given to us. We're not allowed to write unless we get a letter, so they've got us."

This line of thinking was new to me. The anger flared up.

"Bastards! Fucking bastards! Why 3;? Oh God!"

I hardly ever used bad language, unlike a lot of my school colleagues who peppered their every sentence with it. When I did use it, it seemed that much more shocking, even to me. Having got that out of my system it seemed to take away the fury, if not the anger, and faced with the inevitability of our situation my resolve crumbled. I sat on the bed, staring at Colin, the tears silently running down my face again. He took me in his arms and we sat together, embracing, rocking to and fro in our joint misery. Oh yes, he was in tears too, whether in sympathy with mine or in realisation of our own predicament I don't know.

The movement on the bed woke Jimmy at last. When he had opened his eyes and seen us he just said "What 3; ?" But before he could finish the question he was involved in the silent, comforting embrace too.

It's shame that being on the same position for a long time gets so uncomfortable. The human body, even when young, wasn't designed for the awkward positions of embracing for more than about 20 minutes at a time. So by the time I felt my legs and arms were getting immobile the others were too, yet each was unwilling to let go. Someone had to give, and it was Jimmy. He had had further to stretch to engage us in his hug. He let go and slumped back onto the bed.

We followed suit and each looked at the other. I felt better, and Colin seemed to as well. I wondered if he had really forgiven me, and if he would welcome me back as a real partner. I was about to try to arouse him when I felt Jimmy's hand tentatively land on my leg, pause, and then travel from my knee, up my thigh 3; The movement caught Colin's eye: he watched and followed suit on the other leg.

To this day I become fully aroused very quickly. That time I was younger, and the speed at which my erection blossomed was really quite extraordinary. They worked on me for ages without really even trying to make me come. First one would be licking me on the nipples or the scrotum or under my legs or french kissing me and then each other. The only time they touched my penis was occasionally to take some of the fluid which I was producing copiously into their mouths. Each time they did I felt I was about to orgasm, but managed to stop myself. Eventually Colin decided to let Jimmy have his way and I felt his small hand curl round my shaft. I was so aroused that when he pulled me right back I felt only pleasure, not pain from my loosening foreskin. He gave me no quarter, pulling and pushing the end of the foreskin over the ridge of my glans, and it took only about a minute for me to feel that deepening sensation of imminent release. I moaned, and immediately his lips were hovering over my organ, waiting eagerly for it to explode its semen into his mouth. The sensations became stronger and stronger, more than I had ever felt before.

I came.

I very nearly fainted with the passion. I started shooting, time and time again. I spurted more times than I have ever done before. I was in no condition to count, but there was time for Jimmy to take a mouthful, for Colin to realise something special was happening and to bring his mouth over me to receive a donation too.

As I eventually died down his lips encircled me and his tongue ran around the exposed glans to clean it off.

It was indescribable, the release, the feeling, the sensations. It was so intense that for a moment I was in tears again, as if I knew it could never be that good again.

Chapter 20
Mud Fight

Fortunately all this was allowed as it was Sunday; we had the day to ourselves and could recover at leisure. We were so laid back about it all that it was lunchtime before we were on our feet. There was starting to be some reaction between all the 'pupils' by this time, a bit of camaraderie. At lunch, it being well known that we were very much a team, we were challenged to a fight with a scratch team of three others of similar ages to us. As this came out of the blue we looked rather apprehensively at each other, until the challenger made it clear that it was a fun thing only.

"There's a patch of mud in the grounds," he explained. "We've been watering it for ages, 'cos I love mud fights. You get really mucky and sticky and it's great!"

"When did you mud fight? Here?"

"No." His grin faded. "I used to do it with a friend of mine. We'd strip off and just wrestle, the two of us. We must have done it for six months or so. It was near a river, so we could just jump in afterwards and clean off – great! Trouble was, one time we jumped in to wash and we didn't know there was a fishing match just downstream. The mud made someone come and investigate, and they found us, naked, and called the police. My mate managed to rush off and escape – we'd got dressed again sharpish – and of course I'd not split on him. They all assumed the worst, nothing I said could persuade them otherwise. But at least my parents didn't split on John either, so he's all right."

"D'you mean you'd never even done anything together?"

"Oh yes. We were beating each other off whenever we were together and it was safe – usually after washing the mud off after a fight. Trouble was they found traces of my spunk on some shorts I'd worn the previous week, and some of his too. So they knew I was with someone. But I'd not tell them who after I realised what was going to happen to me. D'you know the worst thing?" He paused, with a look of ferocity on his face.

"They had no room in the police cell when they took me from home, so I was taken to a prison. There were five warders there, and more came down when they heard they'd got a fourteen year old. They made me strip off in front of seven of them before I had the shower and got into prison clothes. They were making cat calls, and I had an erection in the middle of it, and that was worse. One of them asked if he could help me shower, and that shut the rest of them up. But they were still there when I came out. If I thought I could have got away with running out, naked down the street I'd have done it. Facing a street full of women would have been better than that."

He paused to calm down. We were silent, horrified.

"I still like mud wrestling," he said after a while. "Come on, who's on?"

As it happened, we all were. We found our opponents more or less of our own size, and agreed the general rule that there were to be no rules, apart from saying that nobody was allowed to do anything to damage anyone else, or cause prolonged pain. I was never a wrestler at school, in fact I shunned fights to the extent of walking away if there was one going on. But the idea of a friendly tussle and, I have to admit, one that was in mud, attracted me. It was probably not allowed by the Institution, so it was fun.

We walked out to the mud, and examined it. It certainly looked like a good wallow. Gareth, the expert, explained what happened.

"Only the two who are fighting strip off," he explained.

"That way it's more of a spectacle. You can grab hold of anything, as we said, so long as you don't break the rule. I suppose it's all right to make the other one have an erection, as we're here, although we'd not have dared do that at home. Yeah, the winner can be the one who holds the other one down for a count of three and pulls his foreskin back."

"What does the winner get?" asked Jimmy.

"Dunno. Gets to fuck the opponent, if that's what he wants. Or beat him off. Whatever. How about youngest first?" Jimmy was matched against the thirteen year old from our classroom group, as he was the nearest to his age. He was only just over twelve, and Jimmy was nearly twelve, so it was reasonably even. They stripped off in front of us, and we noticed what a difference fourteen months can make. His opponent was a bit more muscled than Jimmy, although only a little taller, but he had noticeable lumps in his scrotum where as Jimmy's only showed sometimes. His penis was as long as mine, not that that says very much.

It was good to watch. They were both very lithe, and twisted naturally into all sorts of unlikely shapes. As the mud splashed up them and lubricated their bodies they seemed to move even faster, so slippery were they. A crowd was gathering, drawn by the shouts of encouragement, and one or two of the older ones would have waded in to separate them if we hadn't told them it was play.

Once or twice Jimmy got his hand on the other boy's genitals, but by that time they were so slippery that he couldn't pull down the foreskin at all. At last he seemed to flag, and his opponent seized his opportunity and toppled him over, sitting across his shoulders, his feet behind him to keep Jimmy down. He reached behind him to Jimmy's middle and found his way downwards. The fingers went round the muddy little penis and pulled slowly down.

A bobble of pink shone out from the middle of the two smothered, panting, dripping bodies.

A cheer went up. "Mark's the winner," announced Gareth.

The victor rolled over on his back, and Jimmy lifted himself onto his elbows. When he had recovered his breath Mark said: "I claim my prize!"

Jimmy looked apprehensive. "What is it?" he asked.

"Come over here and lie down. No, not there, here where it's away from the mud. By the bushes."

"What are you going to do?"

"Piss on you."

"Yeooch! Gross! You can't do that!"

"I can, and if you try to escape I'll catch you, and if I can't Gareth will. We'll make you lie there and take it."

Jimmy looked horrified. Then he just shrugged. Enough horrible things had happened to us already. One more wouldn't make much difference.

"I'm not going to piss on your face, it's all right."

Jimmy laid down again, and Mark stood at his side, directing his penis at Jimmy's. The stream started, and the area around Jimmy's cluster grew cleaner, then a line up his stomach and chest, and then it faltered as Mark ran out. The last few drops were deposited between his nipples as he stood astride his victim.

Jimmy waited for more, then when nothing happened, got up. "I want a shower," he said.

"You're coming in with me," said his opponent. "That's only half the winner's prize. You've got to suck me off as well."

Jimmy shrugged. He was used to that.

But now it was my turn, and seeing me start looking around at the small crowd that had gathered, Jimmy paused and told Mark to wait until the rest of the fight had finished. He agreed.

I eyed my opponent up and down. He was fifteen, and was in a training class above me so I hadn't really met him to talk to. He was slim, and short, and hairless everywhere I could see, and looked younger than his years.

"Strip for action!" came the command from Gareth.

The old feeling that it was unnatural to strip in front of a crowd of people came back to my mind briefly, but the challenge of this new, exciting sounding activity was enough to make me keen to peel off my shorts. It was more natural here, and now. We each stripped, and for the first time we looked at each other properly. He was quite well equipped, and very attractive. He grinned at me and raised his eyebrows. I wondered at that point what prize he would require if he won. I thought I'd just want to take him into a room and explore him 3;

He stepped forward into the mud, and I followed. The soft, warm stuff oozed up between my toes like I remember from camp, when we had a summer rainstorm and the bare areas softened. I felt good. I laughed. But before I knew it he was coming for me, right arm stretched down to grab my penis, but I side stepped that hurriedly. To my surprise he tripped, and went headfirst into the mud. I flung myself on his back like a shot, trying to pin him there, but I was too light, or he was too strong, because he pulled himself out from underneath. Landing on top of his bare bottom was rather nice, though.

We both got up, and this time engaged in a more traditional hold that brought us slimily together. The feeling of complete, mucky lubrication between two bodies is something else. If it hadn't been for the need for us to wrestle I'd have enjoyed just wallowing with him, or even better with Jimmy and Colin. As it was, I felt a foot go behind my leg, and the next thing I knew I was tipping backwards. I managed to keep my wits about me and held him tightly to me, only releasing and twisting away at the last minute.\

Our joint splash sent mud flying everywhere, covering quite a lot of spectators as well as us.

As we were both on the ground we stayed there, trying to grab each other, and each rolling away just in time. As with the previous two, there soon wasn't an inch of pink to be found on us. The mud got in our hair, under our arms, all round our genitals and under our legs, and even inside the crack between our buttocks.

To cut a long story short, I wasn't the pushover I thought I was going to be. I didn't win, but I gave him a run for his money and the audience something worth watching and cheering. He got me into a leg lock, pinned one arm behind me, held the other, and swiftly stretched down his free hand to haul back on my foreskin. Thank you, Billy, for persevering with the loosening of its tightness. A cheer went up from around us. He let me go, still smiling at me, and I felt myself liking him more and more 3;

We all had to stay and watch Colin and Gareth, of course, and I must say it was worthwhile. They were evenly matched, both quite strong, and as I watched him move and the muscles bulge from his upper arms and thighs as he used them, I realised yet another reason why I was in love with Colin. He was really good looking, and strong, but so gentle in his manner when he wanted to be, which was most of the time.

I think they had both wrestled before, because their technique seemed to be quite advanced. After some time, Colin managed to get his opponent's thighs and legs, bent double, and trapped between his own thighs, so that he was sitting with Gareth almost over his knee, but facing upwards. With his arms and upper body he bore down on the beaten one, and his hand found the prize, a mud covered penis. So secure was his prisoner that he started to massage it, and succeeded in getting an erection, much to the joy of the crowd. Slowly the cherry at the end was peeled, until it stood upwards, like a thick muddy candle with a pink end.

"What's your prize, Colin?" somebody shouted. "And what's going to happen to your friend? Robert hasn't said."

Nor he had. I was suddenly apprehensive again.

"I think we'll have a shower together, and then I'll see," he said. "I may teach him a thing or two, you never know. I think, though, he can sleep with me tonight."

Well, I still loved Colin and Jimmy, but if I had to sleep with anybody else I'd rather it was him.

"And Gareth can take his place with Jimmy and me, then," said Colin. "Perhaps he can teach us a thing or two."

All six of us walked off to the shower, laughing at each other for being so caked with rapidly drying mud. The last tussle had gone on for such a time that Jimmy and his opponent had almost set dry, and I was going on that way. In the shower each opponent cleaned off the other; normal pairings were temporarily dropped, although I think that Gareth and Robert were not a couple except for sharing a room and helping each other with 'work'. The shower took a long time as we were each exploring a new body, and enjoyable it was too. As we grew cleaner and soapier and once again more slippery, mine wasn't the only erection to be seen 3;

At the end of it, we went to collect our clothes, each carrying a mast in front of us. We didn't bother to put them on, as we had decided to join up with our night's companions immediately. Jimmy asked his opponent, another James, if he could join him and his friend who was also about thirteen, and was graciously accepted. I was led off by Robert to his room.

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