Backwoodsman

The Institution

Chapters 24-26

Chapter 24
Filming

They swung the cameras back onto the bed.

"Right, they've had their shower," said the owner, who seemed to be the director as well.

"Your turn now. We'll have Colin come over from the shower and grab the covers off you to get you up. Can you arrange an erection inside your underwear, please? He'll pull the sheets off you to reveal you to the world, and I want you to leave the bed toward the camera of course. Nobody remarks on the bulge in your pants, and you stand in camera view and strip off, then walk over to the shower. Let me know when you've prepared yourself."

How could I get myself stiff to show off in front of lots of clothed adults? I thought back to my first time at the Institution, and some of the same fear of ridicule came back to me. But I knew it had to be done, and that I had done similar things at the club. I manipulated my testicles and did a few strokes on my penis to start things off. It wasn't as quick a reaction as usual, but I got one, and nodded at the owner/director to say I was ready. I lay back on the bed, facing away from the camera.

Colin came over at the command, called to me to wake up and twitched the sheet away. I gave a mock groan, rolled over, and found myself looking into his eyes.

He was giving me that look which, in the early days particularly, I had found so appealing and sexy. He was also naked. The blood coursed to my genitals and the reluctant erection blossomed. He stepped back from the bed and out of range of the camera and watched me.

Tenting my underwear fully, I stretched on the bed, then rolled over to sit on its edge. As I stood, the angle of my swollen organ pushed the underwear away from my body, exposing its tip to me, if not to the camera. Thinking fast, I stretched again, bending backwards, and the elastic worked downwards, exposing half an inch [12 mm] to be recorded on video. I looked at Colin, grinned, then swiftly bent and pulled the garment off, stood up to be seen properly, and walked to the shower.

They were pleased with our efforts.

We were told to get dressed – fully dressed, in underwear, trousers, shirts, socks and shoes. Socks! Shoes! We hadn't worn either – apart from sandals at the club – for months. It all felt most odd, particularly the constricting underwear under our smart long trousers. We were puzzled about this, as Colin was in shorts, as was Blondie.

They fed us – fortunately the stage set kitchen was capable of such things – very well. I had recovered by this time, and felt quite hungry. We had some time free afterwards while staff loaded a truck. Then we four were bundled into a car, which took a road parallel to the coast for some time until we approached a village. There seemed to be mile upon mile of golden, sandy beach there, and at the edge of this we drew up. The director told us some more of the plot.

"You, Paul and Jimmy, have come to visit the parents of Colin who are in business here. While the adults talk, you've been taken by Colin to the beach to look around. That's why you're in smart clothes and Colin's in sensible shorts. While you're here, you decide to have a swim, so you'll find somewhere where there are people around, but not too close. You'll strip off, the three of you, down to underwear, and swim. Your friend doesn't get to swim yet, but we'll come back here later and you can all go in then. As a warning, your monitors and a few of our staff will also be in the water and round about on the beach, so no thinking of running off.

"Firstly, the car will go up the road, turn round, come back and park. You get out, say how nice it is, and walk off. We'll do the rest later."

Blondie was told to get out and stand by the truck with the film equipment while we made our second arrival. We stood by the car for a few minutes chatting and looking, then set off over the sands, passing two other cameras which had been set up while we were messing about. The director chased after us and told us to make for one area of untouched sand which had a sparse fringe of other people in the background. I could already see the equipment being lugged over there. We sat down again and chatted. I noticed that they were still filming us there, too, because poor Blondie kept getting told to move slightly away from us as he wasn't in these scenes. They were using telephoto lenses, and coming quite close to us.

Eventually the area was ready and we were told to go over there, and start talking about swimming when we got the signal.

We got it about right on the third take. They cut.

"Now," we were told.

"You've got no towels. Someone needs to point that out."

"I will," said Jimmy, who hadn't done much talking yet and wanted a go.

They rolled again, and we did as they asked. Jimmy thought of the right words in the right place. Colin volunteered that swimming in underwear was all right as we were a long way from the nearest people.

We stripped off to our rather revealing underwear, then ran on down to the water.

It was a great swim. Knowing we were being filmed throughout we really went to town on splashing each other, mock fighting and honest swimming. One of the crew was so taken with all this that they had to shout to him from the shore to keep out of shot. Eventually he got the signal that they had enough footage and wanted us out.

"Jimmy first," he said. "He gives you plenty of time to carry on, you two, and he comes and sits on the sand, watching. Then you two come out, one behind the other, and join him."

As Jimmy left the water I caught a glimpse of him as I played with Colin. The water had rendered his underpants see-through, and he might just as well not have been wearing them. So that was it! I caught Colin's eye, and he stopped splashing and turned to watch the boy as his buttocks oscillated sexily up the beach. We grinned at each other, knowing how we were going to appear, and glad there was nobody else too near. When Jimmy had settled down, we splashed our way nearer to the shore. Colin waited until the water was just lapping his thighs, then stopped and pretended to pick something out of his foot. I half turned to see where he was, because I wasn't convinced about marching as good as naked up a public beach. The angle of his leg had stretched the material over him, and she whole shape of his organs was visible, set off by a smudge of black pubic hair around the edges. I tore myself away and walked up towards Jimmy, who was laughing his head off.

"What's up?"

"You've gone see-through. I can see everything! Colin too."

For the video I looked down, and sure enough I was in the same state. Pretending, I turned round quickly, and saw Colin almost with us.

I think we acted it well. It was such a natural thing to do – the sort of 'could happen to anybody' feeling.

We looked casually around us, to see if we should stop yet. Blondie was a little way off, looking at us with an incredibly hungry look on his face, and looking at him and getting his expression and our mock discomfiture was another camera.

A cut was called.

By now you've got the general idea of how it was being done. The story unfolded to this: We would ease our pants down a bit so they dried easier. This would be too much for Blondie who would walk over to us and chat, and offer us towels. We'd refuse. He'd leave soon after. Fifteen minutes later he's return saying there was a car illegally parked on the road whose driver was trying to get us urgently as there had been an problem and we had to return. We'd be worried, yet knew we couldn't get dressed as we were still wet and couldn't get our good clothes wet. Colin wasn't, so he volunteered to pull his shorts over his wet body and get towels, whereupon Blondie would again volunteer them from his family's stock 100 metres [300 ft] away on the beach. He'd return with them, we'd dry ourselves and change and get in the car.

Only of course the car was nothing to do with our fictional 'family' and everything to do with Blondie's.

That was the end of the first day's filming.

They took us for a meal, then we went back to the beach as the light faded. When we had cooled off and partly digested the food we were allowed back into the water, still in the all-revealing underwear, this time all four of us. The film crew had left, apart from our minders and one or two of the staff, who delighted themselves with photographing us whenever we showed our nakedness above the water. Eventually they tired of that and came in to join us. One or two were in the early twenties, and were good fun, even going so far as to tickle Jimmy and me, and duck all three of us. If their hands occasionally brushed against our supposedly private parts now and again well, what the hell. We got our own back on them. And soon the whole session degraded, – or upgraded, depending on your point of view – into a fight to see who could grab the other one's dick whilst trying to keep himself from being grabbed. Once I was well and truly caught, and the man put his hand down inside my pants and enveloped me, but I twisted away and later slipped mine down inside his shorts to find out how much he had.

Not as much as Colin. But it was good fun anyway.

Eventually we were called out of the water, just as the same man and I were wrestling to see who could pull the other's pants or shorts down first. I just wrote that, and for the first time it struck me that if we'd been on a school camp and swimming in the near dark, there is still no way it would have occurred to me – even me – to play that sort of game. It was a wonderful, free feeling, knowing that you could do such a thing with any of we actors or the crew and it would be enjoyed by both participants as a normal thing to do.

I dared him to get out of the water naked. He dared me the same. Silly man! I reached down and pulled off my pants, and waved them in the air. He suddenly remembered that I'd been all but naked all day, grinned ruefully, and did the same. Together we walked on up the beach. As he became visible there was a cheer; even the owner/director grinned. I wrung out my underwear and put it back on again. It was marginally less see-through like that. But we were given towels and our old clothes, and eventually walked back to the car in the comfort of T-shirt and shorts: the underwear, socks and shoes had vanished.

And that was it for the first day. We were once again very tired, and very randy, so when everybody had vanished from the studio, and Blondie had gone to his solo room we stripped off and settled down for the night. I had not thought about Robert for ages.

None of us could find a light switch, so we found ourselves in bed still bathed in the pool of light. It was hot like that, so we had no coverings.

None of us noticed the half hidden video cameras casually pointing towards the bed. We did what came naturally to three sexually aware, randy, gay friends, and thoroughly enjoyed it. I hoped somebody would change the sheets in the morning before filming started.

Our semen coated bodies were woken up at around nine the next morning. After being watched without comment as, still naked, we left the bed, just fitted the three of us in the shower, and got it all off. By this time we had got as used to being naked here as we were in the Institution – I nearly wrote 'at home'! People were bustling all round us, and we didn't care.

After dressing and breakfast the director called us in. "This morning we'll do the arrival at the place you've been taken to in the story. You remember that you got into a car in the story last night. Well, you've been kidnapped. Arthur and George have got you and are taking you by car to their house where you'll be imprisoned."

"Excuse me, sir," piped in Jimmy, "but who are Arthur and George?"

"Arthur's one of my staff who does some acting when necessary, and George is your George."

"Me," said Blondie. "Don't you know my name by now?"

"Sorry," said Jimmy. "I've always called you Blondie."

He snorted.

"So when you are let out of the car, you will be surprised at where you are, alarmed that your captors are helping you along at knife point, and concerned about your safety and the fact that your families don't know where you are. Can you manage that?"

My family doesn't know where I am, I thought. I don't know if they're alarmed or whether they're just pleased their queer son isn't around any more to embarrass them.

We went to change back into the decent clothes of yesterday, watched by any of the staff who happened to be around. It's a good thing we had got used to being seen naked and semi-naked, because we'd be nervous wrecks by then otherwise.

It took us four takes, but we put up a reasonably believable show. As we were bundled indoors for the fourth time we heard the "Cut 3; that's a wrap!" from outside with relief.

The next shot was of Jimmy and me being pushed into the shed arrangement by Blondie. I didn't see where Colin was being taken, we were separated in the hall. We hadn't been in there very long when Arthur reappeared, and he and Blondie/George tied us to the posts in the middle. I realized that was what they were for: it wasn't a left over set from another film, but presumably built specially for this one.

They stopped there, and we all had a break. Colin joined us and explained he had been taken to a bedroom and tied to a bed by Arthur. He was a bit quiet, and I think he had a bad feeling about what was coming next. He never admitted anything to us, though.

Afterwards, when he had gone again to be tied to his bed, we were tied again to the posts. Blondie came into the room, and I assume he had been told to look evil without hamming it too much. I don't know what muscles he pulled but his face, which I had thought godlike when I first saw him, now took a most sinister look. As I say, I don't know what he was thinking about 3; but it was effective.

He had obviously been told what to do when we weren't listening. As the cameras rolled he produced the knife he'd been brandishing at us and crossed to Jimmy, who looked scared. He casually slipped the knife in the back of his belt and, to my surprise, caressed Jimmy's face, then down his chest, onto his trousers where he started fondling him. Jimmy, who was used to this, said nothing.

"Cut!"

"You're meant to object to that, very strongly!" came the call. "It's not usual behaviour. Tell him to stop. Use what words you want, but tell him to leave you alone."

They started again. This time Jimmy yelled at Blondie to stop, but of course he didn't. I'd never heard the range of language from Jimmy that I heard then! He kept it up until Blondie held the knife to his throat.

It was my turn to exclaim. "Oy!", I shouted. Blondie looked at me with this new, malevolent expression and poked the point in towards Jimmy's neck. "NO!"

Blondie just looked at me again. I was aghast and about to scream, thinking that the whole world had gone mad, when he upended the knife so the blade tip pointed toward the floor and carefully cut a great gash in the shirt. Swiftly, so as not to lose the momentum he cut the arms away and made rips so the shirt would fall free.

By this time we were both silent.

The knife went into Blondie's belt again and once more his hands went onto his victim's trousers. The fly came down; the belt was undone. The fastener released. The trousers pulled down around his ankles. Then the knife came out again.

I didn't know whether I could trust Blondie or not. But I had little chance to say anything. He pushed Jimmy's legs apart and hooked his finger around the pants where they narrow to pass between the legs. The knife came nearer. Jimmy sobbed. I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and the skin over my testicles crawled.

The knife passed harmlessly through the cloth. I think Jimmy nearly fainted. He certainly lost control of his bladder. A stream coursed down his legs and gathered in a puddle by his feet. He was still sobbing his heart out, and the transition from sick fear to the 'mothering' instinct was almost instant.

"You bastards," I said in a low voice. You've scared him to death. Stop it. Stop it now."

The three cameras kept going as Blondie turned to me. He prepared me in the same way. I was so disgusted that he was able to do this without protest that I kept up a barrage of curses and promises of what I'd do to him while he stripped me and cut my underwear in the same place.

Once it was over he stepped back and surveyed his work.

"Cut!"

Before I could say a word the owner/director was talking to us.

"You nearly ruined that shot, and we could only do it once. I hope your words still make sense when we play it back, or else we'll have to cut in a bit of film on an extra day. Really, after such a good start too. I'm disappointed."

"He was scared he was going to get killed! You never warned us what was going to happen!"

"Nothing we do here will cause you harm. Do you really think we'd damage you?"

"If someone comes at you with a knife aimed at your neck and your prick, what would you think?"

"Don't be silly. We wanted alarm, certainly, but you should have realised nothing's going to happen."

"How do we know? We've never been here before."

"That's enough. Any more like that and you'll be sent back without finishing the video and with a bad report. That means no more work here for any of you. Do you want that?"

I knew what names I'd get called if that happened, as well as the sort of punishments I'd get. I reluctantly agreed to stop talking, but asked if we could please be warned if anything like that was going to happen again.

"If it won't spoil the spontaneity of your reactions, yes. But rest assured that no harm will be done to you, and all we want is reality."

And with that I had to be content.

We had another break now, and I was wondering where Colin was, and whether we could see him. I was told he was in the middle of a tricky part, and would be free later. After some time Arthur came into the room. He talked in a low voice to the owner, whose answer only we heard. "All right. I'll come when we've done this next bit. Jan can take over here then."

They rearranged cameras and readied themselves for another shot. We were still tied to the posts, and it was starting to get uncomfortable. When "action!" was called both Blondie and Arthur crossed to Jimmy and untied him. Blondie still had the knife and was holding it as a threat not to escape. Jimmy massaged his wrists. Arthur produced a cloth, wiped his urine-specked legs and cleaned up the floor.

"Get onto that table," Blondie grated in a voice tinged with threats. Jimmy sat on it. "Lie back."

Once more his hands were tied, this time to the further legs of the table. Arthur was busy fixing poles to the table's front legs so they stuck up into the air. When he had done, and he had tested his knots for tightness, he and Blondie pulled Jimmy forward so his bottom was level with the front of the table. Swiftly, before he could struggle, they grabbed a leg each and tied the calf to the top of the upright pole so his legs were in the air. He could move nowhere. His bum was sticking out almost off the end of the table, and where he had been pulled into position what was left of his underwear had ridden up his body, exposing him to the air.

Suddenly it dawned on me what they were going to do, and I gasped. I stopped myself from shouting out because of what he owner had said, but the next time we broke I would tell them we hadn't done anything like this at the Institution. But there was no break. With the cameras still running they left him like that and turned their attention on me. I got the same treatment, and didn't enjoy it at all. I seemed, over the last months, to have experienced increasing levels of nakedness, of exposure, in public. This was the worst so far, being open to the public gaze in an area of my body I had never even seen myself, and helpless to cover it up. I had never felt so completely vulnerable to anything anybody wanted to do, whether it was with weapon or body. But there was nothing I could do: I was tied. There was nothing I could say: I was being filmed.

When we were both immobilized, Arthur grinned at Blondie and left the room. Blondie stood there, looking over us both, smiling the most lascivious smile I had ever seen. He even rubbed his hands in anticipation. Under his shorts I could see there was a mound, which meant only one thing. He had been told to take matters further. I had to say something, do something. I looked for the director, and caught his eye. He held his finger to his lips to keep me quiet, but I shook my head. He gave me a look that could kill, and called "Cut!"

"This part has to be done with the cameras running all the time. You've been kidnapped. Your anger or whatever it is you feel must be directed at the characters who are doing this, not at me. Now act!"

"Sir," I managed to get out, "we've never done this before. Had someone up us, I mean."

"Don't lie, boy. You have. I was told."

I gulped. Robert and I must have been videoed. How could they 3; that was private. I managed to stammer "I have, sir, but he hasn't. Ever."

There was a pause. "I see. Well, it won't do any damage to him. You are to be careful, though, boy. Don't be too rough. It might be better if you start on this one after all. Yes, that will give more time. If you can come in him, then have a rest 3; Yes. Do that. And you, you are to direct any comments you want to at him. Not to me. Is that understood?"

There was noting for it. I felt desperate, desolate, alone, and so, so vulnerable. I could hear Jimmy starting to cry quietly on the table next to me and I suddenly realized that he was more scared than I was. At least I'd had it done to me, in love. He was about to be raped. And he knew it in advance and was anticipating it with abject horror.

"Jimmy," I called, "I'm with you. I love you, I promise. And I always will."

The sobbing quietened a bit, but didn't stop.

"Action."

The first thing Blondie did was to secure my knees to the uprights and move the other tie to my ankles. This meant my legs were pulled even further apart, exposing me even more. Because it was a real effort to raise my head to see what was happening I just kept it turned it to look at Jimmy's tear stained face. My heart went out even further to him.

I felt Blondie's hand on my genitals, where he was starting to rub in some cream. Despite my situation I could feel my body reacting and for the first time I wished it wouldn't. I didn't have the ability at nearly fourteen to control it. I stiffened, as always, and he stroked me from tip to root with his lubricated hand, then down to the scrotum which, like everyone did who was with me sexually, he massaged and played with. This kept going for ages and I'm ashamed to say that my brain was receiving strong messages from my body that it was enjoying it. At last there came a change. With one hand he kept up the massage, but the other slid down underneath me and started to plough up and down between my buttocks. With an oily hand, and with my heightened horniness the sensation was wonderful. A tiny corner of my brain was still screaming that this was wrong, that I shouldn't be thinking like this, but my body was now in charge.

Then it all stopped, except that I could feel a warmth between my legs. Something was trying to penetrate my rectum. It wasn't a penis. I looked up with difficulty and saw the top of his head just visible above my rearing penis. He was licking me there. I tried to get used to the idea. I would have gladly done it for Robert, because I just wanted to merge with him in any way I could. I couldn't see myself wanting to do it for Colin, but I wouldn't mind for Jimmy. He was younger, in some way cleaner. It wouldn't matter. But to do it for someone I hardly knew 3; "Yeochh!" I said out loud. He looked up, over my head, saw a camera there, grinned at me a little forcedly, I thought, and returned his attention to my underneath. I didn't know whether to be disgusted or what. That's not true: I know I should have been disgusted, but the sensation 3; oh damn.

He took some more of the cream on his hand and looked down at me from his standing position. This time there was no doubting the agony on his face. Although I knew what he was going to do – what he had to do to keep us from a major punishment at the Institution – I felt sorry for him.

He applied his hand to the whole of my bottom, working it well in between the cheeks, then took another load of the cream between three closed fingers. With the other hand he tried to prise me apart. I naturally resisted.

In that menacing tone of voice that was belied by the look on his face he said: "Relax completely. It'll go in anyway. It'll just hurt more if you resist."

I knew that, but for the film I hurled some sort of obscenities at him.

I relaxed as best I could. He fairly gently opened my rectum with two fingers of one hand, whilst the other applied a measure of the lubricant to it. Two fingers went inside me to ensure It was in place. He repeated this, twice. I only hoped he would be as gentle with poor Jimmy, who had stopped sobbing and was watching in horrified fascination. Once I was lubricated he turned his attention back to my genital area, and restored by depleted erection. Then there was a pause. Once again I lifted my head, and saw that he was pulling off his shirt, a camera following every move. He sat on the wide bench that he pulled up under the table and, I presumed, took off the shoes. As his trunk came back into sight I could watch as he carefully undid and dropped his shorts. He stepped out of them.

The work he had done to increase my erection had had a similar effect on him. The brief underpants were staining in the front, the edges resting against his thighs being lifted an inch from the skin. From the angle he was standing at I could see his scrotum and the hair around it. Well, he was a year older than me. He reached down and pulled at the thinner strip of material at the bottom of his pants that went under him between his legs. Slowly the elasticated waistband followed the scant material as it was drawn down his thighs, and with it was drawn his penis. From a nearly erect position straining at right angles to his body it was bent downwards, something which had always caused me pain. The waistband drew level with the root of his penis, then started to expose more and more 3; As it worked over the glans and released it, the organ flipped up like a 'twanged' ruler and swiftly gained a fully erect position.

He swiftly released his thighs and legs from the last item of clothing. Like this he looked as imposing and exciting as he had the first day I had seen him in the practical session, and reluctantly I thrilled at the sight. He approached the end of the table and stood on the low bench there, his penis now almost out of sight along the line of my belly. He raised it up, and pulled at the foreskin, which readily slipped back for him. He came closer, and laid it alongside mine.

It hadn't really occurred to me that he was so much bigger than me until our organs were side by side. He was over six inches [15 cm] long, but it was wide, too. Very wide. I didn't know if my rectum was big enough to take it. I was certain Jimmy's wasn't. His hand came up to pick mine up, and slowly he started masturbating me, pulling the foreskin further and further down my glans, until it too was as exposed as his. Cameras were hovering overhead all the time. Strangely they heightened the sensuality rather than depleting it as I imagined.

Out two glans' were touching. He was pulling on both of us backwards and forwards. Because of my decreasing but still present problem with the foreskin it was uncomfortable: I couldn't have come like that. After a short while he took his hand away, pulled back, and directed his organ straight under my legs. He lunged forward.

Even if I had had a chance to relax, the speed would have made me tense up. He penetrated me about half an inch [12 mm] before my complaining ring of muscle stopped him. He paused, looked to see where the cameras were and found there were none pointing towards his face. He raised his eyebrows, as if to ask me when to push again, but I couldn't answer as I was in full shot. I gave a gasp, which I hoped would tell him I had relaxed.

Slower this time he pushed in, and found me easier to penetrate. An inch and a half [4 cm], back an inch [2½ cm], and then 3; All the way to the base of his penis. I felt a dull ache inside. I also felt as if I was going to come. He had found the prostate, and was massaging it from inside. It was not a nice feeling in most ways, yet my penis reacted by stiffening still further: I felt full, and under pressure, like you are when you're grossly constipated, but worse.

He drew out, and thrust in again. I gave a shout – I couldn't help it. I heard a wail from Jimmy, and forced myself to look at him as Blondie started really fucking me quite hard.

I'd never seen Jimmy look so scared. I just wanted to shout out for it all to stop, so I could go over to him and hug him tightly, to protect him. But I knew that if I did there would be worse to come back at the Institution. Instead I looked at him rather than at Blondie, as his thrusts pushed me back against the knotted ties, and tried to appear as if it was all right.

Blondie's hand found my penis again, and started jerking it up and down too. Even if I had by then been in a mood to come I couldn't have done so, with the foreskin peeled right back. Instead the discomfort had made me flaccid, and he soon gave up on that idea.

It seemed to go on for a long time, but in reality wasn't more than two minutes or so. Suddenly the rhythm changed and he let out a moan, then another 3; and a crescendo of sounds which culminated in almost a shout as the orgasm swept over him. I felt nothing apart from the discomfort and ache I'd been feeling all along. The strokes during his orgasm, though, were almost to the full length of his penis, and as the lubrication was starting to wear thin they were getting actively painful. Fortunately as soon as they were over he calmed down to a kinder speed, and soon stopped altogether, still inside me, breathing heavily. A calm look was on his face, and he fondled my scrotum and penis briefly, before slowly pulling out.

The relief was immediate and oh, so welcome. I still ached, and the ring of muscles stung. But the hell was over. For me. I felt a sudden desire to move my bowels, though.

"I need a shit," I said.

He couldn't answer. He was still swaying on his feet, still standing on the bench. I looked away, and found the cameras were on his face and on his (stained) penis, which was starting to subside. I found the director's face, and said to it "I've got to shit."

He did nothing and said nothing. The feeling of impending disaster increased as my guts tried again to take over. Once, twice, I managed to control it. But he had used so much oil, and my muscles had been strained so much, for so long, that the third time I said in a strained voice "Oh!" as nature took its course and I fouled the bench and the floor below my upended bottom.

"Cut!"

Suddenly I felt no regret. I'd been raped. I'd been violated in a way that I hadn't given permission for and had received no warning. I felt a cold anger. If it had been possible at that moment to run off into the surrounding countryside and perish I would happily have done so, punishment or no punishment or the others, death or no death for me. Eventually my normal senses returned and I knew I had to stay for the sake of Jimmy and Colin and me. I felt no regret at what I'd done, though, or at the disgust that all the onlookers obviously felt as they drifted away, holding their noses.

How strange that fear, concern for another, pain and ultimate degradation of two young boys should mean nothing to them, yet the expulsion of the natural by-product of eating, both actions they themselves had to do on a daily basis, should send them into paroxysms of disgust.

The actual words inside my head were: "Well, fuck them then."

I turned to Jimmy, who was looking at me with no expression on his face. "Sorry, I couldn't help it. It just came out. I couldn't stop it."

"Got them out of it, didn't it," he said. How he could have regained an even keel so quickly I don't know. Perhaps he thought that as they'd all gone that was it, they'd untie us and let us go. Perhaps it was the natural defence of the young, living the moment and careless of the maybe inevitable.

And it was inevitable. The owner came back with paper and bucket and water and cloths, and Blondie was made to clear up. Poor Blondie. The only thing he'd done was what he was told to do to avoid punishment for all of us, and he'd raped me and was now a sewer man with a vengeance and was about to rape Jimmy.

Jimmy raped! Oh God, I'd all but pushed it out of my mind. As he cleared up below me I called him in a whisper.

"Have you got to do Jimmy, too?"

"Yes," he said wretchedly. "They say they'll make sure the monitors have a go at us unless I do."

"How can they?" I asked nobody in particular. "He's only small. You'll never fit in. It'll hurt him like hell."

"I know." He was almost crying by now. "But at least I've just come, so I can't keep it up for as long. And they're determined it's all got to be done now."

Just then there came a great shout from one of the other studios. It was Colin's voice, a cry of pain and anger. We looked at each other.

"What have you done to him?" I shouted wildly to the director/owner. "If you've hurt him 3;"

"Relax, boy. You just look after yourself. We'll take care of the others."

I mustered up all the strength, the dignity, the maturity I possible could bearing in mind the position I was in.

"I am looking after myself," I said between clenched teeth.

"These two are a part of me, and I am a part of them. Hurt one and you hurt all three."

That seemed to floor him. He looked hard at me. "Haven't you caused enough trouble with your shit on the floor?"

"Being raped has weakened my rectum," I said calmly and distinctly. "The oil did the rest. Like a suppository."

He looked at me for a long time. Trying to hold a reasoned, important conversation when you're upside down, naked, with your legs spreadeagled in the air and tied is not very effective. But he finally said: "He's just had sex, like you. From your friend Arthur."

That silenced me. I knew from yesterday's swimming session that Arthur wasn't as big as Colin, despite being fully adult. "Then why did he shout out?" I ventured.

"Perhaps Arthur did it differently."

"Is Colin all right?"

"Arthur won't have harmed him, don't worry." He turned away.

"Sir 3;" He turned back. "Sir, can we be untied while it's being cleared up?"

"No." And he turned away again. Blondie, who had finished, followed him with the unpleasant bucket and cleaning materials, and was sharply told to clean me up, too. So with distaste on both our parts, he used some of the (soft, thank goodness!) paper to wipe me down, and put the result into the bucket, then carried it off, presumably down a toilet somewhere.

Once again events had overtaken fear in Jimmy's mind, but as the various operators, sound men and assistants started drifting back I could see the fear mounting in his face.

Eventually they had put Blondie back into position, still as naked as he had been all the time, and as limp. At the command "Action!" I saw Jimmy's face crumple as the anxiety took over. Blondie slowly turned to him as I watched. I thought of the film, because I really couldn't believe he would be made to go through with it, and shouted at him.

"No, you bastard, not him. Do me again if you must, but not him!"

Naturally it had no effect, but his approach was very slow.

He massaged Jimmy as he had me, but achieved no erection for the boy. He anointed him with oil, still with no effect. He tried masturbating, but it's difficult to do that to an undeveloped penis which is limp with fear.

Eventually he approached the boy's rectum with an oily finger, and rubbed it between the buttocks as he had with me. He oiled his hands and oiled Jimmy's bottom everywhere. All the time there was silence, although Jimmy's sobs shook his little frame occasionally.

The time came when he had to work the oil inside, and he was as gentle as he could be. As his finger approached, Jimmy gave a low wail, which intensified as he was penetrated. The finger did its job, was retracted, and the wail stopped. I know I have been talking in extremes of emotion, but I had never experienced anything like this. So when I describe 'the worst moment' or 'the most vulnerable' or, as in this case, feeling the most impotent, I can do no other. I had experienced no other feeling, if you discount the knowledge afterwards that, as a baby, you had your nappy changed, your body bathed, and every private place you owned touched and checked time and time again by your mother. But there's the difference. Your mother's on your side and wants to see you clean and happy. This was by people who couldn't care less, presumably so long as you were alive and whole at the end of it.

Blondie approached him again, this time with two fingers laden with oil. The low wail from the sobbing child started again as once again he was violated. By this time Blondie's erection had blossomed again, and it really seemed that it was all inevitable. He looked around. Nobody made any move to stop him. Desperately he looked at me. I gave no sign, thinking that at any minute a cut would be called. He climbed onto the bench. Jimmy's wail started again, this time with urgency as the well-developed organ approached him.

"Relax," Blondie's voice grated. "Just relax completely." How could he? He knew it would cause agony for Jimmy. He rested the tip of his glans against the rectum, as Jimmy gave little moans and sobs. Still nobody stopped it. He pushed. Nothing happened. Jimmy was holding out in fear and horror. He was incapable of releasing the muscle. Harder and harder Blondie pushed, trying to do what he had been told whilst not hurting his victim into the bargain.

Suddenly the pressure was too much, and Jimmy's rectal muscle gave into it.

His scream pierced the building, through my numbed consciousness and through Colin's, too.

Exhausted still, and still in pain I yelled "NO. NO. NO!!!!!" a the top of my voice, and threshed against the bindings that were holding me down. To my surprise I was able to wriggle under the chest band, and, with strength which I normally don't possess, sit up to tear at the knots around my calves and knees. I wasn't looking at anything but what I was trying to do: get free to stop Jimmy's pain. I was in the process of untying myself when there was a roar from the door and a slimy, faeces-stained Colin burst into the studio. He took in my predicament in a glance and rushed straight at Blondie who I could see was now clear of Jimmy, standing looking astonished at the precipitous turn of events. With a movement that would not have been out of place in a boxing ring he hit him, straight in the face and turned to Jimmy.

By this time I was free, and although I expected any minute to be attacked by the film crew or the director I, too, went to Jimmy's side and started tearing at his bonds. I was keeping and eye all around me for trouble, though, but none came. We freed him, and stood him on his feet, and turned to look at the rest of the studio.

"Cut!" called the director.

Chapter 25
Aftermath

"That was good, boys. You were a bit rough with him, though. Look over him, would you, Fred?"

We stared at him nonplussed. Was that it? Were we meant to have done that? I was the first to recover my wits, and ignoring everyone except my friends I crossed to Jimmy and put my arms round him. Colin turned his back on the room too, as if to shield us from them.

"Are you hurt?"

"It stings a bit. Oh Paul, that was 3; was 3;" and the tears started rolling down again as he relived the last half an hour in his mind: the fear, the feeling for me, the sickening anticipation of what was coming to him, the skin crawling as Blondie approached him, the reality of the penetration. I hugged him, and Colin hugged us both as the crews fussed around their equipment. When he had more or less stopped, at least enough to face the world again, we turned, as one, to face it. The owner/director was supervising the moving of some of the equipment but stopped when he saw we had rejoined the world.

"That was good," he said again, smiling at us.

"Very good. We'll have to have you back again to do another one."

"No." He looked at Colin, his smile gone. "What do you mean, no? It's good money, and I'm sure if the Institution tells you to come, you'll come."

"No," said Colin again. "We are not coming back here, ever, to be humiliated and scared shitless and raped. I'd rather have no money at all when we leave than go through anything like that again. You relied on our love for each other to get the result you wanted. And now you're not even offering to help. Look. He's been damaged underneath, we've got abrasions where we tore ourselves loose. I've got the cum of some stranger inside me from when I was raped, and Paul's got Blondie's inside him. What are you going to do for us?"

The man's face was thunderous. "You do not talk to me like that. Your friend has got nobody's semen in him: he fouled the floor and got rid of it. The little boy was given a taste of what's to come later in his life, that's all. And you 3; you've been through that many times before, at your age and with your inclinations, I'll be bound."

Colin drew himself to his full height and stepped toward the man. There was not a great deal of difference in their height. It was odd seeing a mature adult, fully clothed, being confronted by a completely naked seventeen-year-old: like a scene from a surreal film. Keeping hold of his temper with difficulty, Colin said: "I have never had anal intercourse with a stranger, neither have these two. I have once started to have it with these, the only lovers I have ever had in my life, but we stopped because it was too uncomfortable. Jimmy has never been penetrated before, and Paul only the once, with a another boy at the Institution. None of us has had anything happen to us which would have prepared us for that. But most of all, most of all 3;" He paused. "None of us has been violently raped before."

He stared at the man's eyes, willing him to strike him, to put forward another argument that he could also shoot down. But his adversary looked away first.

"Well, it's done now," was his only comment. Colin nearly choked.

"Excuse me," I said hurriedly, "can somebody help Jimmy, please? He's in pain. So are we."

"I'll send somebody," he said without looking at us, and walked off.

I held Jimmy again, just to show him we were on his side.

"What did he mean about fouling the floor?" Colin asked, so I told him what had happened. "I did the same," he said. "I wasn't going to say, because it's, well, horrible. But if you did it too it's all right."

"What happened to Blondie?" I asked suddenly. "It wasn't really his fault, you know. He just had to do what they told him to, or we'd have been sent back with bad reports. And punishments too 3;" I trailed off.

"I hit him, hard," said Colin. "He went down, but I was too busy looking after us to see what happened next."

"He lay on the floor," said Jimmy, unexpectedly. "They took him away."

Footsteps approached, and one of the technicians came towards us. "I do first aid," he said. "What's the problem?"

"How are you on damaged arses?" asked Colin. "Jimmy's and probably Paul's too. And we've all got rope marks on our arms."

Jimmy was far from keen to let anyone near him apart from us two. But when we looked all we could see was an ugly bruise starting to form round the little puckered rectum. He wouldn't let the man separate it to look inside, and I can't say I blame him. It was my turn next, and they found me reddened, but not bruised. Paul's wrists needed antiseptic and dressings, and mine were just marked as I had only had to put minor pressure on them. The man was quite thorough, and checked us all over. If he paid more attention to our genital and posterior areas, well: we were used to it.

Colin asked him about Blondie. "Just coming round when I last saw him. That was quite a thump you gave him. You want to be careful with those fists."

"I hit the wrong person," said Colin. "I should have hit the director."

"Just as well you didn't. He's an important man, and a wealthy one."

"He won't be important when he's in prison for arranging three rapes."

"Not much chance of that. Someone's got to complain to the local equivalent of a magistrate first. And that's him. You don't stand an earthly."

Colin just looked at him.

He told us there would be no more filming today, and that if we wanted to go swimming we could. "It would help your bruises and cuts," he said. We can always bandage your wrists again afterwards." He would come with us as security guard, and he would get someone else too. "Not Arthur, though," he said with a wry smile. "When you jerked back when you heard the boy's scream you pulled his penis down hard. He's bruised it, I think. Then when you tore yourself free and pushed him away he hit his head as he fell. It's bleeding, and he's feeling very sorry for himself. So although he enjoyed swimming with you yesterday he won't be going near the water for a few days."

"Good," said Colin.

We made our way through the studio, and our first aider called to a friend of his who was standing nearby, wasting time."Come on Carl. Want a swim with the stars?"

He smiled shyly and came to meet us, a young, fresh faced, pleasant young man. "Are you all all right?" he asked. "I wasn't happy about how they were going to film you, but I'm new here and I've got no say."

"We're still in one piece," Colin told him, "but in pain."

"That's too bad. I'm sorry, I really am. And are you all right 3; Jimmy, isn't it? 3; because you might have been worse affected."

"It hurts," Jimmy told him shortly, not wanting to trust anybody who worked at the place.

We went into the main house to pick up towels for the beach, and one of the many rooms we looked into contained Blondie, surrounded by three men. Before we could restrain him, Jimmy darted in and went up to the bed he was lying on.

"Are you OK?" he said with urgency in his voice. "We heard you'd been knocked out."

The boy looked at him thickly, as if drunk, and muttered something. Jimmy managed to say something back before he was hauled away by one of the men.

"What did he say?"

"He said 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.' It looked as if he was crying. He's not very well."

At this Colin stopped too. "He's one of us. And I shouldn't have hit him so hard. I'd better go back."

Our escorts tried to pull him onward, but he shook free angrily, went back to the door and quietly on his bare feet, entered the room.

"Blondie 3; I'm sorry I hit you. Really I am. If there's anything I can do to help, tell me."

The men started towards Colin, but he dodged them and looked down at the confused boy. "Sorry," whispered the latter again.

"I'm sorry. Is he all right?"

"Yes. He'll do. Are you?"

"Head hurts like hell. Can't focus. Want to go to sleep."

"I'm sorry I hit you so hard."

"Not your fault. Their fault." His eyes closed and he went back to sleep.

"Will he be all right?"

"Should be," said one of the men. "He's a strong lad, but you did hit him one, you know. You've got to go now. You're not meant to be here."

"He may have had to rape my friends, but he's still one of us. Can you tell us how he is when we get back?"

"We will. If he's not here he'll be in bed. If he's not there, with any luck he'll be in bed with one of us."

Colin looked at him contemptuously, decided there was nothing to be gained by saying anything further, and rejoined us. He told us what Blondie and they'd said. We were glad he was recovering, but indignant about what they intended. We hoped, in a way, that he would stay asleep until the following day.

We picked up the towels and then hesitated. Here we were, three naked boys and two clothed men, about to venture out into the wide blue yonder. How about some clothes? We asked.

"Oh, you don't need them. It's the back of beyond here, it's all a private estate anyway, and the beach is private. Here, do you want us to strip off too?"

"Yes," I said decisively.

"We will as soon as we're out of sight of the house if you don't mind. Carl's pretty enough to be lusted after by all the older ones here, including me, but nobody stands a chance with him. He keeps his door locked. Don't you, Carl?"

"I want to make sure I choose somebody, not to be chosen."

It was the first time we had heard him speak. He had a calm, attractive tenor voice which sat well with his boyish looks. He was the sort who, if I had met him in the club, I could really have enjoyed operating with. Jimmy looked at him sharply, and I saw his face soften. I don't know what magic there was in the voice but it affected him, hurt though he was. I noticed he walked by Carl's side to the nearest outcrop of rocks. This meant crossing the road: we were still unclothed, of course, and we were ready to take off at any time.

We reached the rocks. Our first aider stopped, and started to loosen his shirt, take off his shoes, and then hesitated, as Carl was talking to Jimmy, doing nothing. "All right," I heard Jimmy say.

As Carl lifted one foot after the other, Jimmy took off his shoes, then, as Carl knelt, he pulled the shirt up and over his head, exposing a hairless, scarcely muscled chest. Jimmy worked at the waistband, then at the fly, and soon exposed what I can only describe as one of the most classically perfect set of genitalia I had seen. It was adult in size and proportion, but so smooth as to appear still that of a thirteen-year-old, with only a thin bush of light brown hair above to show his adulthood. He had the air about him that was non-sexual, and Jimmy's normal fondling before the strip would have seemed out of place.

I could see the boy, my friend, was entranced, as was I, but Jimmy's attraction was that of a boy to a naked hero, not as a potential lover. He walked by his side, taking sidelong glances up at his face, and at his nakedness, and I wasn't surprised to see that he was walking very close. I was jealous. But I knew my own behaviour of late took away any right of mine to be possessive. I lagged behind, then caught up, to give myself the opportunity of walking on Jimmy's other side.

The beach, as promised, was empty. More, it was virginal. Along to left and right cliffs rose, and although near us they were low, they increased in height until at the distance of about a mile they were very high indeed. They gave a feeling of privacy to the place. We wasted no time, but dumped the towels and a ball that one of them had picked up, and ran straight into the sea. As yesterday it was warm, and soothing, except at our wrists which stung with the salt water. The pain lasted only a few minutes, although Colin was in more discomfort as his wounds were deeper. But we put up with it, and with swimming, and playing – yes, we had recovered our spirit enough to do that – and splashing about it eventually wore off under the healing influence of the salt water.

When we were exhausted we went and flopped out in the lowering sun. Cooler than in the main part of the day it was still enough to warm us and make us drowsy. Our first aider friend, Mark was next to Colin, I was next to him with Jimmy on my left, and Carl was at the other end, propped up on his elbow, looking across our prone bodies. His eyes were taking us all in, but mainly he was looking at Jimmy. Suddenly he spoke.

"You know, Jimmy, you've got a very, very good looking body, and, if I may say so, a face to match."

Jimmy looked at him rather warily, having had quite enough input from adults for one day, even if this one was really nice. Carl caught the look.

"Don't worry! I'm not after you, just making an observation. Soon you're going to be a really good looking boy, and then I might be. But you won't be interested in me."

"It'll be some time," said Jimmy. "I'm only just twelve. I can't make spunk yet."

"It won't be long," said Carl again. "Look. Your testicles are starting to drop already."

Jimmy looked at himself in alarm. "Shouldn't they?"

Carl laughed. "Yes, of course they should. What I mean is that they come down into your scrotum, until they're as low as Paul's, then gradually find their final level so they're like Colin's or mine or Mark's. Look, yours are just starting to show."

"Are they?" He was excited now, excited at this first sign of his growing up into a man.

It says much of our conditioning that he had no qualms about all of us gathering round him to look at his theoretically most private of body parts. For all of us they had grown to be no more than just a part of our bodies. Everyone wore no shirt when it was hot – except to keep the sun off, and legs were naturally bare. In the sea you wore less. So if you showed all this skin, what, apart from parental training and the demands of society, was there to stop you showing all your skin? I was already starting to find people wearing skimpy clothes more sexually attractive than those who were baring all.

"Where are they?" I asked as I craned over his leg to see this new part of my intimate friend that I'd missed. He was lying on his back, and the attention had made things contract a little.

Carl's hand reached out, then hesitated. "May I, Jimmy?"

"Do what?"

"Show them to you."

"Will it hurt?"

"Good heavens no. It's just that they've gone back up for the moment because you're not relaxed."

"So how do you get them down?"

"You have to press gently either side. Look, can I show you?"

"All right."

I think a part of him, even after his horrendous day, wanted this hero-like figure (to him) to touch him, to be intimate. Carl lowered his hand and laid it gently on Jimmy's belly, just over the penis's root. With a thumb one side of the organ and a finger the other, he carefully, with very little pressure, pushed down onto the skin, and eased the testicles back down into the scrotum. His fingers went round the base of the scrotum to keep them in place, whilst we all looked at the little pea-sized spheres that would one day soon produce his seed.

I had never noticed this stage in my own development, so I was fascinated. I looked at his face. It wore an expression of wondering amazement, almost of awe, and I felt love rush into my mind for him: so much that tears almost came to my eyes. "Well done, Jimmy, well done. Congratulations. It won't be long now," I said as soon as I could safely talk again.

They all congratulated him, and Carl asked him if he was going to feel them. "You should be the first, Jimmy. Lots of others will do so if you want them to, but you should discover yourself first."

He slowly brought his hand to them, with Carl's hand still around them to keep them in place, and carefully traced the small roundness of them. By now his penis was starting to react, and as it did so, so did mine. So did Colin's, so did Carl's, and so did Mark's.

"Look," he said suddenly, "we're all saluting the start of Jimmy's adulthood!" The subject looked round at us, noted the five organs standing to attention, and laughed himself silly.

I noticed that Carl had put his arm round Jimmy's shoulders, and I was again jealous, although I still realised that I had no right to be. I looked at Colin, and could see that he was watching too, with a straight face now that the laughter had died down. He jumped up.

"Come on." he called. "How about another swim?"

I thought I saw a look of disappointment on Carl's face as we all sprang to our feet again, but he joined us in the water again anyway. This time when we came out we toweled ourselves dry as it was beginning to get dark and we were getting very hungry. Colin and I fell in either side of Jimmy as we walked away from the beach. We didn't want any further advances, as we saw them, from Carl. They stopped to put on their shorts, the older ones, and as we approached the house we could feel our unease starting to grow again.

We checked on Blondie as we passed the room he was in. He said he was feeling a lot better, but had a headache. We told him what we'd been doing, but not about Jimmy's new decorations, and he smiled enviously. "I haven't been in the sea since 3; oh 3; a year ago."

"How about yesterday?" I asked.

He looked at me confusedly for a moment, then grinned.

"I'd forgotten," he said.

We ate: we sat around, still with Carl and Mark, chatting. They heard of our crimes, our training, the regime at the Institution. We thought it was all right to tell them – in a way they were part of it anyway.

At the end of it both of them looked uneasy. "Do you mean that you got sent there just for that?" asked Mark.

We each assured him we had. That we had done nothing else. We admitted to being gay – even Jimmy, though I wondered if he was old enough to be sure. He certainly enjoyed our activities a lot, so we all assumed he knew best. But when Mark mentioned that he thought that a custodial sentence was for rape or molestation only, we were indignant.

"I'd never do anything like that!" I exclaimed. "I'd never want it done to 3; to 3;" I fizzled out, realizing what I was about to say. The two older ones looked at teach other.

"If it's any consolation, when we realised what was happening we were most unhappy," said Carl. "In the past they've made films with fully grown men, men who are used to 3; um 3; penetration. But to make boys do it we both felt was very wrong. I don't know about Mark, but I'm really thinking about leaving here if they're going to do that. That's rape, and I want no part of it."

"We certainly didn't," said Colin. "I think that at the Institution they train you to do that eventually, but we've never been taught, and coming to it cold is not nice. In fact I can't see any pleasure in it at all."

Mark looked at him oddly. "I used to think that way," he said. "Then I fell in love. Really in love. Painfully so. Because we loved each other, and were older than you, we started our relationship by exploring each other, physically and mentally, knowing that when we found weaknesses in each others' minds or bodies we had to be very careful not to cause damage, but to try to strengthen them. It worked so well because we were each absolutely sure the other was the only one he wanted, and as time went on we each became sure that each of us was the only one the other wanted."

He took breath, trying to make sure that all added up to what he wanted to say.

"We got so much as one person that there was nothing we didn't do to become more intimate, to show how much we wanted to be one with each other. Because we wanted to be so close, to merge, we found ways of entering each other, but comfortably and carefully, and because of the possibility of dirt we would almost always use a condom, or refrain. For us it was wonderful, and an extension of our physical love.

"For others, and if it's done with only half love or with none at all, just because it's something two males can do, I would wonder whether it was really enjoyable at all."

My mind went to Robert. Half love? No love? Suddenly I wasn't so sure about him.

"What happened?" asked Colin quietly.

"We were so inseparable that it became very obvious we were a couple. Most people accepted it, but some didn't. One of the few times we were apart, he went to the doctor for some stupid thing, and on his way back he was attacked and injured so badly that he died in my arms after they'd dumped him off at the door and rung the bell. Can you imagine how I felt? They never got the 3; the bastard that killed him 3; I'm sorry 3;" He finally broke, poor Mark, and rushed from the room. We stared at each other, horrified, the tears not far from our eyes.

"No wonder he's a first aider now," said Colin.

We chatted for some time more, but quietly and about nothing in particular. Mark came back and apologised, and we told him not to be silly, we all felt for him and wished there was something we could do to help. We all knew there wasn't. He decided to go to bed. After a while we all started yawning. A lot had happened during the day. It was then that Jimmy dropped his bombshell.

"Carl 3;" he started in an unusual, wheedling voice, " 3; can I sleep with you tonight?"

We all stared at him in amazement. He'd only been raped a few hours before, and here he was 3; I felt jealous, but knew I could say nothing. Carl was looking at him with the oddest look on his face. Eventually he stammered: "I don't' share my bed with people."

"Please, Carl. I'd really like to. I don't want to rape you or anything, just be next to you all night."

The young man smiled at him, at the idea of his being raped by an eleven year old, and Jimmy smiled back. When he does that he can melt any heart, and, against his better judgement, Carl spat out his answer as if it hurt.

"Yes."

I felt as if I'd been shot. Sex wasn't everything, and I wanted to make sure that I, that we, were the ones to make sure Jimmy was safe until morning. I was so worried and jealous that I reacted.

"Jimmy, do you think you should?" I stammered.

He looked at me reproachfully, and I just knew he was about to say something about Robert. Before he had a chance, Carl said: "I promise you that he'll be as safe as if he was with you. I know he's one of you, and I respect that, probably more than you know. He'll come to no harm from me or anyone else, and the door, as Mark said earlier, will be locked. But if you want me in the night, just knock with one slow, and two quick knocks, OK? Like this." He demonstrated.

Jimmy came over to us, kissed Colin and whispered something to him, then came to me. He looked me straight in the eye and said: "I still love you. And I'll be alright, I know." And before I could say anything he was out of the door.

Colin and I looked at each other unhappily and shrugged, and made our way to the bed. We noticed that only normal room lights were on, dimly, this time, and it finally occurred to us that our very active sexual activities must have been filmed the first night. We weren't happy about it. We were tired, so settled down quickly. Colin closed his eyes, but I had something to say.

"Colin."

"Wassup?"

"I'm sorry."

He looked at me, worried.

"What for?"

"For Robert. I was a fool. He's so attractive 3; but I don't think I loved him as a person, just as a body."

"What made you say that?"

"What Mark was saying about his boyfriend. About wanting to be so close you're happy with your lover's bum."

"How did that change your mind?"

I gulped. I'd hoped not to have to admit this.

"When we were alone that night, he wanted to fuck me. I let him, but I didn't enjoy it. It was love from him to me, but not back. I think there's only one person who I'd be really happy with inside me."

"Who's that?"

I gulped again.

"You."

Chapter 26
Another Film?

When the three of us met the next morning, Jimmy was full of himself. Carl was smiling happily, too. When the boy had gone to the toilet, Carl told us briefly about the night.

"You know he wanted to take my clothes off, when we went swimming? Well he did the same last night. But this time he tickled me, I thought it was just in fun, but he carried on, and I got stiff. Well, I took off his clothes, and tickled him too, but under the arms. I told him to get to bed, and he did, but he was lying as close to me as he could get – I was still 3; er 3; excited, and it was touching him. He turned over, and the next thing I knew he was fondling it, and looking me straight in the eyes with that look 3; I really didn't mean for it to happen, I thought he just wanted the company. But he really got me going, and for the first time ever I let someone else jack me off. I couldn't bring myself to do the same for him, but after I'd come he put my hand on him and 3; well. "And if that wasn't enough, he did it again last night. He woke me up just as I got to sleep and did it again, and he did it once this morning."

"That's our Jimmy," laughed Colin. I said nothing. I was jealous.

The director/owner came in after breakfast, he saw the three of us and Carl together, and brusquely motioned Carl away. We were not happy at that, thinking it unnecessary. He sat us down, and just looked at us, one at a time. Now, I'm not good at holding the eye of someone I don't like or trust. Jimmy's better, but this man had arranged for things to be done to us that he couldn't forgive. So he, too, looked quickly away from the challenge. Colin was last to be engaged, had seen what had silently gone before, and was ready with the forthright attitude of the late adolescent. More, he spoke.

"You arranged for each of us to be raped yesterday."

It was the man's turn to look away. He appeared nonplussed for a moment.

"It was necessary for the film. I didn't know until you told me that you had had no training in accepting penetration. By that time it was too late. I hoped the boy would not be penetrated as much as he was, and if you're hurt, I'm very sorry. It was 3;

Colin interrupted, somehow aware he had the advantage. "Training? Accepting penetration? Sorry? We were raped! Raped! Bum fucked without our permission! And if you think that any training, as you call it, will permit a big cock like Blondie's to fit into a small bum like Jimmy's, then you know nothing about boys, or growing up, or pain, at all. But you organised rape. Rape! Do you understand? Because it all went so far both Paul and I had to injure ourselves to get to Jimmy to stop it, when eight or so full grown men were standing about the scene, doing nothing. It was rape!" There was silence after this outburst.

Then, quietly, the director spoke.

"There has been a misunderstanding. I thought by the time we were ready for you here your training would have included the prospect and the practise of penetration by your fellows. And it is possible for a boy of Jimmy's age to accept an adult penis in that way. It's tight, but it can be done. But not if the recipient doesn't know how to relax, and hasn't had his rectum stretched by use. That is something we have to address with the Institution, and I am sorry that it happened in this way.

"So far as your coming to rescue him, that was entirely intentional, but it appears that your bonds, which were deliberately left loose, were not loose enough in your case, and I am sorry for that too. But the action you took does you credit, and, if you are interested, comes over extremely well in the video. But I repeat, I am sorry that there was a lack of communication which allowed matters to come to that pass."

Colin – we all – just looked at him. The trouble is that, when you're young, once an adult has given you an explanation calmly and reasonably, and has used the word 'sorry' in it, you are programmed to accept it. I think Colin would have started up again given time, but the man gave him none, and started, just as calmly, talking about this day's filming.

There is little to report about it, as it was just the filming of fill-in in shots, the wet part of our shower on the 'first morning' and explaining our escape. This came first, and for it Blondie had to lie on the floor where he fell after Colin had hit him, whilst we hunted around 'the house' – that is, various room sets and actual bedrooms – for some clothes. As – for the sake of the video – we didn't know how many people there were in the house, this added up to quite a tense episode, I'm told. Eventually, after being filmed very cautiously going from room to room completely naked, we 'found' some miscellaneous items of male clothing in 'Blondie's room' which were too small for Colin and far too big for Jimmy. For Colin it left little to the imagination: in fact the short, tight shorts showed him off very well. Jimmy was just enveloped. I was quite comfortable. We were filmed going outside and walking away, thumbing for a lift which the third car, driven by Mark, gave us. End of film.

Except that it wasn't, as we still had to do some small linking and other shots, all of which accounted for the rest of the morning. As Blondie was still in some of these, we took him under our wing to show that we attached no blame to him, and we were actually very glad to see him in one piece and back to normal.

After lunch we were told to rest, as we couldn't do the shower scene immediately. So we spent more time chatting to Mark, Carl and each other. When we were eventually called, we were all quite laid back about the whole thing again. They filmed the naked Colin and Jimmy soaping each other down, but had to cut once because Jimmy kept trying to touch Colin's genitals. He was told not to, as 'we weren't meant to be that sort of boy'. Whatever he did, though, Colin's body reacted to, so they decided to keep his erection as a feature of the video. Once they had finished, they were to come over to me and pull the bedclothes off me, exposing me with an erection.

Well, that wasn't difficult to arrange.

Then they splashed me, and I would run to the shower, my morning glory bobbing up and down in front of me. Jimmy would be fascinated by this, and want to come in the shower and play, and so he would get a second shower and get an erection himself. Then we'd get out, dry, and the other two would do breakfast. I would still be stiff, so would wank off.

When we reached this last part, as the other two weren't there I found it very difficult. There were, after all, a load of adults standing around. Eventually they had to get Colin to stand in front of me, out of camera view, massaging himself. Eventually I made the right animal noises and shot, although it wasn't very satisfactory. They were pleased enough with it, though. I cleaned myself up, got dressed, and walked off camera.

That should have been more or less it. The director came to us afterwards to congratulate us on our performances " 3; even where they were done in distressing circumstances. I am sorry on that subject, very. And we shall be ensuring that future actors have been fully trained in all the skills necessary. As recognition of your ordeal I am increasing the fee we pay by 25%, and I hope that will recompense you for the pain and discomfort, and you, young man, for the blow you received from your friend."

Colin looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry I hit you so hard. I really am. I just couldn't see 3; Well, you know the story."

Blondie told him that it was already forgotten, and not to worry.

"What I would like," continued the director, "is to have you stay here tonight again, so that you have a reasonable journey back. I'd also like to do some exploratory work on another video which I'm considering. Are you happy to do that?"

Three of us looked at each other. Colin stared back at the director.

"What sort of work?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing you're not used to, and trained up to."

"What's the story line, please, and what exactly would we be involved in?"

He detailed the story. We would arrive at the beach individually and put our towels down completely separately, change normally into Speedos, and start swimming. Only one of us would have a ball. He'd throw it to one of the others who would be hovering enviously, and gradually the others would come into the game. We'd get out for a rest, and the subject of skinny dipping would come up. When we next go in, one of us would volunteer to go in the nude if everyone did, then we'd see who could trust who to take off their trunks, and end up in a mass friendly bundle to remove or have removed our Speedos. Then we'd all disappear down the beach into the sea.

We agreed. It seemed a good way of earning even more. And painless!

All went well until poor Blondie joined in the tussle for each others' Speedos. He was in the fray, and one or two bottoms were bare, when he suddenly collapsed onto the ground. We realised there was a problem, and stopped, although by that time I had pulled his thin trunks down. He soon came round, but was rather confused again, as he had been the day before. They said he must be affected by the blow still, and immediately Colin was anxious. But he said that he was all right, except when he had to move fast. If he rested he would be fine.

There was quite a bit of consultation about this, and the director came to us looking gloomy. "I'm afraid that's it. We need to have four of you. He just can't do it, and I wouldn't like to trust him in the water like that. We'll just have to leave it and get you back."

"How about someone taking his place?" asked Jimmy suddenly.

The man looked at him. "What, one of my staff you mean? I don't think so. The only one we have who would take his clothes off is Arthur. He's still in no position to act and he's too old anyway."

"How about Carl?"

"Carl?" he laughed. "I used him on one video, but clothed. From what I know he's not going to want to do it."

"Can I ask him?"

"If you must, but don't be long away."

The boy found his friend, and my eyes followed the pair as they walked off. I saw Carl stop and look at Jimmy, then they walked on. Jimmy never let on what he said to his new friend, but by the time he walked back he was laughing. He went to the director, and I saw some of the sparkle go out of his eyes as he did so.

"I'll want a separate fee," he said, and I knew that somehow Jimmy had persuaded him.

We started again, having put on our Speedos again, and this time the tussle went without a hitch. I wasn't surprised that Carl just upended the laughing Jimmy and just held onto his trunks while he fell out of them. Colin had an easy job with me as I was too busy checking up on the boy, and both he and I pulled Colin's down. That left the three of us to strip Carl, and we had to cut just as his pubic hair was starting to appear because Jimmy had his hands down the front of the Speedos! We started that again, brought his manhood into the open, pulled off his trunks and ran off down to the sea.

It was great, being able to splash about, knowing we were meant to be doing so, careless that we were being filmed. We took care to punt the ball into shallow water frequently, so that one of us had to lose the clothing of the water and expose himself to the cameras. By this time it all just added to the spice of the game: so? we were being filmed in the nude. So what?

Eventually they called us in to tell us that they had enough and to explain the rest of the plot. Colin was to strike his foot on something under water, and leave the sea hobbling. I was to follow, concerned, and examine his foot on the beach. The other two would follow after a while and we'd sit there. Sooner or later someone would scratch his balls, the others would accuse him of rubbing himself off, and be asked if he didn't do the same. It would go on from there. It took four takes to get the dialogue running properly, but eventually it all worked. The cut foot and leaving the water went OK, and it was Carl who scratched himself.

"Wanker!" called Jimmy.

"Same to you."

"Well, you are. Fiddling about with it like that."

"It's the salt. I'm scratching."

"Wanking."

"Scratching. But if I was?"

"Well 3;" Jimmy trailed off.

"Don't you, then?"

"No."

"I bet you do."

"No."

"Liar. The others do, I'm sure. They'd be the only boys only the planet who didn't if so."

"I bet they don't. It's not natural."

"It is. Very. Hey, you two wank, don't you?"

"Um 3; er 3;"

"Come on. You know you do. We're all friends here, and nobody's going to find out. I mean, Jimmy's going to be doing it soon, isn't he?"

We both laughed at him. Jimmy acted uncomfortable.

"Come on, I'll show you how."

"Get off!"

"Oh, as you like. The rest of us will, though, won't we?"

"What?"

"Wank off."

"What, here?" said Colin.

"Yes. Why not? I feel horny."

"In front of each other?"

"Yes. If we all do it, it doesn't matter"

"I don't know 3;"

"Well, I will if you do." I had to say something to jog things along a bit.

"You start," said Carl to me.

"No. I'm not starting on my own."

"You, then."

"Nor me," said Colin.

"Well I will. But if you don't start with me I'll not do it."

"OK." We both made ourselves sound reluctant.

So he massaged himself to an erection. The camera followed him, with cuts to Jimmy's face showing his well acted astonishment, then descended down his body to show a spontaneously growing erection of his own. Colin and I were doing the same.

"Cut!"

We all stopped, feeling rather foolish with our erections still throbbing.

"Do you think you could ask if you could do it for him?" asked the director. "Would that be pushing such a new friendship too much?"

"It's all right by me," said Jimmy quickly.

"I'm sure it is, you randy little sod!" Carl laughed. Jimmy grinned.

"If you asked him how it worked, and what it felt like, perhaps that'd be OK," mused the director. "Then you could do him – but carefully, don't forget it's his first time – and he could do you."

We went back to it.

"How does it work?" asked Jimmy, on cue.

"It makes your prick feel as if it's having a fuck," said Carl. "After a time you'll get this wonderful feeling, like nothing else on earth, and your spunk comes shooting out."

"What's spunk?" asked Jimmy, as if he hadn't been dealing with it on a daily basis for the last two months.

"It's the seed that gets planted in the woman to make what's in her grow into a baby."

"Oh." There was a pause. I looked sharply at Jimmy, somehow aware he wasn't acting.

"Does it hurt?" The question that all children ask about anything new to do with their bodies. Why do they? Did everything new hurt when they were babies? "No. It's wonderful."

"But don't you run out of it?" I'd not thought about that one myself.

"No. Your balls make more and more until they're full."

"Oh." Another pause. Then the acting turned on again.

"Can I feel what it's like?"

"Do you want me to do it for you? If I do, you'll have to do it for me."

A pause.

"All right."

So hesitantly he wrapped his hand round the young man's penis and started pumping up and down. Carl was more gentle with him, fortunately, and just used his two fingers on his developing organ.

There were no more interruptions from the film crew as two of us performed solo acts and the other two did it jointly. I wondered if Jimmy would be capable of acting astonished when he came. He was first, so entranced was he by Carl. The back arched a little, the breathing grew faster: then he partially sat up, only to lie down again immediately as the orgasm swept through him. When it was over Carl stopped, and the look the boy gave him was caught beautifully by a cameraman who had made sure he was in the right place. It was an acted look of astonishment, coupled with the inevitable dewy-eyed look of the sexually satisfied. It was so sweet, so Jimmy that I came next, and quickly, caught by another camera. Carl resumed work on himself, and was narrowly beaten to the orgasm by Colin, who had been stimulated by mine.

They kept the cameras rolling.

When we had recovered, we looked at each other and grinned briefly, then one by one walked carefully down into the sea again, making a show of washing ourselves off.

They let us play on the beach for a while afterwards without the intrusion of the cameras, and it turned into another long, glorious evening. Most of the time we were just lying in the deepening twilight, naked on the sand, talking. They had to send someone to get us eventually, and we realised we were hungry.

That night Jimmy and Carl slept together again, and Blondie came in with us for safety as he was now better and might have been at risk from one of the staff, we thought. It curtailed our amorous activities, as he wasn't a part of us, but Carl and Jimmy really enjoyed themselves 3;

NEXT PART