Scrub aka Simon

Brothers

I was seventeen when all this started.

I had gone to one of the few remaining grammar schools and had worked hard there. It was not very surprising that I had already taken enough 'A' levels to get offered a place at my first choice university. This was unusual as it was only mid-February. My younger brother had got a scholarship last year to a good public school and had started there last September although he was not quite twelve. The whole family was very proud of him. My father had worked for, and owned, an international company and sold things to countries in the Middle East.

My parents decided that I was old enough to look after the house. Since my brother, Eric, went to boarding school, my mother went with my father as his secretary. It was a tax fiddle as she couldn't even type! While he was working over there, the Sunday Times published an article about selling arms, entitled "Bribery and Corruption are rife in an English company." It was all about my father's company! The article accused him of all sorts of things. My mother rang me up in the middle of the night. She said that they were coming straight home as the government there would not do any business due to the publicity.

She sounded kind of weepy.

Their plane blew up over Israel and although sabotage was suspected nothing was proved. The insurance company wouldn't pay a thing. All the family money was in the business and the bankers made it close. My brother and I were suddenly paupers but nobody felt sorry for us because of that damn newspaper.

Our priest, Father Francis, came round one evening – my brother and I had sung in his choir. We had both been favourites of the man. He had prepared us for our first communion and had paid special attention to my brother when it was his turn. He said to me "I don't know what you plan to do but I think a friend of mine could help. This man has a boy of your brother's age and wants to find a tutor for him. My friend doesn't approve of schools for under thirteen year olds. I met him recently and he is sacking the current tutor because he smokes, and lied about it at the interview. I could talk to him and if you would work for him for eighteen months you should get enough to see you through university. They will, almost certainly, be prepared to delay your entry for a year." It was an interesting idea and a couple of days later I met the man, Mr Jones, in London. I didn't meet his son who apparently never came to town. The man explained his terms, which very unusual, but they didn't seem objectionable.

He would employ me as the boy's tutor and companion and I would live with the boy continually.

While I wouldn't have time off as such, I could take the boy out to things of which the man approved. As the man pointed out the boy couldn't take time off so why should I.

The man did not want of the boy to be punished corporally. That was what he thought was so wrong with schools for youngsters. Once he was thirteen – well that was a different matter.

My brother could live with us and go to a local school. It would save me a lot of money and be pleasant for us both – I thought.

The man would be responsible for my clothes and he added, as an afterthought, my brother's. He pointed out I wouldn't need to spend a penny! All my money would go into a trust fund, whatever that was. I would get it when I left provided I had fulfilled my side of the contract. If I didn't 3; (That was not important because I knew it would never happen – What a fool!) My appointment would be subject to my brother and me passing full medical examinations. They could be organised for the next day, a Saturday. The man would collect me at Kings Cross station. He would then take me by car to collect my brother from his school and both our medicals would be that day.

He would take me on Monday him to a lawyer so I could sign some documents. I would then go straight to his home and start work. My brother would stay at school until the end of the term and then would join us. This would be in some eight weeks.

It all seemed O.K. to unsuspecting me. I went home for the night. The journey only took about an hour and a half. On my way from the station I called at the church. Thoughtfully I sat at the back until the choir finished its practice.

I wanted to thank Father Patrick. While I was sitting there quietly, my self assurance gave way to worry about my, and Eric's, future. I spoke to Father Francis about my fears. If he had not calmed me, my life would be so different now. He did all he could to put my fears at rest. He had me over to supper and treated me as an adult. It was about nine before I got to my empty home.

There was one letter. I had been getting a lot of abusive ones from people that, I supposed, had lost money due to my father's misfortune. This one was slightly different. It was unsigned but it threatened me by NAME. It made me happy to be planning to leave the place so soon. However I still slept well – Oh to be young. My dreams that night helped me to decide to carry on.

In the morning I left early and was at Kings Cross well before the appointed time. I ate my breakfast at the station.

It shocked me when I saw some kids scarcely older than Eric begging and obviously selling their bodies. I can still remember feeling they should be punished for so evil a crime. It was, I knew, quite unforgivable according to the catholic church – not that I was sure what they were offering to do! My prospective employer collected me in a very smart white Bentley and soon we were at my brother's school. Before we saw Eric, a boy ran up and said the headmaster wanted a word with me. Mr Jones offered to come along and I accepted his offer gratefully. Indoctrination meant that I was still young enough to fear for my backside when going to see any headmaster although it was clearly idiotic in this case. Anyhow I had hardly ever got into trouble being the serious sort, hard worker, hard player and a bit of a goody-goody.

Only my prowess at sports had kept me reasonably popular with the other boys.

I had never been a pupil at this school anyhow.

The head suggested that the man should leave but I said that I would prefer him to stay. The head said things to the effect that: – Since the unfortunate publicity, some boys had teased my brother unmersifully. The school had received some publicity, not that it mattered he claimed. It would be best for Eric if he left the school at the end of the term. Indeed if he left in the next month the school would reimburse the term's fees! Naturally (?) this was not for the school's sake. However, Eric was being bullied by some senior kids.

Regrettably some masters seemed less willing that usual to stop it. Naturally if he knew who the bullies were. 3; It will take you time to find another school. Your surname isn't that unusual. I will give him the very good – which he deserves.

If the boy stayed, the head would do everything he could to look after the boy's interests. He was limited in what was practical to do.

I was happy that Mr Jones was with me. He gave the headmaster hell. He said that it was the man's job to control the boys in his school. The school was under contract to keep the boy to the end of the term when they accepted the fees. In retrospect the tirade did little or nothing to improve Eric's lot.

Indeed it just angered the head who ignored the boys bullying Eric and encouraged the other staff to turn a blind eye as well. Mr Jones asked to speak to the likely bullies. For a quiet life, the head agreed. I was not there at the talk that Mr Jones gave the boys. I gather (Mr Jones has told me with pride knowing how it would upset me!) that he said: "Eric now has no parents. There is no one from his home to complain about him getting something that his family has deserved for years. Not many teachers, if any, will be interested in Eric's side of the story. If you do things to him that he will not want broadcast, he will not even complain. For example you might make him put on a show of his masturbating skills (if any) or you might even assault him sexually. You could pee in his bed but I am sure you get the idea."

The man then gave the boys some money to forget what he had said.

Shortly after this the three of us left for London. We eventually arrived at this very posh doctor's consulting rooms. The doctor greeted us "I am sorry my receptionist is away as I don't normally work on Saturdays. I recognise that this is urgent so I will do the examinations on my own. We will start with the youngster. If the older lad will wait 3;"

Some weeks later I saw a secretly taken video of Eric's examination. Rather than wait until I get to that part of my tale I will give an account of it here. They took Eric into a typical doctor's examination room told to go behind a screen and strip off COMPLETELY.

The video could see behind the screen! Eric did not want to take his underwear off but that was ignored. Soon he stood stark naked in front of the doctor not daring to use his hands to cover himself. Eventually he moved his hands over his prick. The doctor just said "No" His hand dropped back to his sides. Mr Jones sat a couple of feet behind Eric and could see every part of him. Eric was given some pills to swallow and then an injection. Some formal questions were asked and answered: name, age, childhood illnesses, disliked food 3; The doctor took his measurements: height, weight, waist, chest expanded and with all the air expelled. The doctor turned his attention to Eric's small prick.

He handled it roughly. When Eric wriggled, the other man pulled Eric onto his lap. He held the boy's arms out of the way.

The doctor said "SOMEONE has played with this! Explain!"

{Editor note: the pills, he had taken, lower dramatically the ability to lie and make it emotionally imperative to tell the questioner everything he may want to know. They do not however lessen the realisation of the effects of what he is admitting nor the guilt feelings!}

The boy said that some senior boys had been taking him and some other boys into some woods. They had then had to put on a show. This had happened about once a week, since the middle of last term. He said that he was the only boy who didn't produce anything during these shows.

Naturally the other boys, both the senior boys and the other juniors, teased him.

The doctor said "I will make you produce the stuff. Anyhow I need to see if everything works." It was not a question. Indeed the pills would insure that he would beg the man to make him cum – whatever his real wishes were. His real feelings were certainly not that he wanted to be violated! Eric produced three 'loads' of sperm. The men, one after the other, used normal masturbation techniques to make him climax. The doctor finally used his finger to massage Eric's prostate gland. They also gave the boy a series of enemas – for no good reason! He hated these particularly since they used a very large bone. Finally he had to pee into a glass which was left on the doctor's desk to be analysed later.

My medical came next on the agenda. No video is necessary to remind me of it!

There is a video however which I have often be made to watch. Mr Jones asks me questions to check that watched it carefully! The medical started normally enough. I went behind the screen to strip down to my underwear for the weighing and measuring. It was rather off putting to have Mr Jones a virtual stranger sitting there. I didn't like to make a fuss about it initially then it was too late.

I was even more embarrased as my underwear was not too clean and was very thin. I kept adjusting my underpants. When the doctor had my left foot on his desk (in case I had flat feet), my prick popped out. "You better take them right off they don't hide much and we are all men" the doctor said. Once I was nude, the medical changed a bit. He gave me some pills. Some of them were, I assume, similar to those given to my brother, while others apparently raised my libido judging from what happened later. They told me to drink the glass of medicine that was on the desk. It tasted horrible and rather warm but I drank it all.

They then gave me a long form to fill in and they left me to complete it on my own. They went to check on Eric. I realised what was my position. I was completely naked in a strange house while two strangers had been examining me intimately. Things became worse as I became erect and it just wouldn't go down. For no reason that I understood, I was so turned on I started to rub it.

The only way, I thought, to lose the erection was to cum. I close my eyes went I get near to coming and did not hear the door open or the men return.

Nevertheless I did hear "Well what do you think you are doing in my surgery? Do you always do this when you are left alone for a few moments? 3;"

Luckily they were too many questions to answer. I had no answers for any of them!

Mr Jones said "I am a bit worried about leaving a boy, who is so addicted to unnatural vice, in charge of my son." I know a suitable treatment/punishment. He gave me a couple of injections and several pills. "I will explain," he said, "you now have an erection. These medicines will make sure that you will continue to have one whatever you do. This will wear off in a week or if I give you an antidote. You will have a terrific urge to masturbate. When you do, you will be unable to climax. You may also find it takes you a long time to pee as your internal tubes will be constricted but I am sure you will manage. It won't hurt too much. If you come here again, you will have learnt your lesson."

That ended of the medical.

I was allowed to dress and do my ineffective best to hide my erection. We collected Eric. Mr Jones and I took him back to school. I was pleased to stay in the car and let Mr Jones take Eric to his housemaster. The man took a small bundle in with him and left it behind (with Eric's Dormitory monitor, one of the bullies). If I had known it contained a rubber sheet, nappies and a sheer baby doll nightie, I don't know what I would have done.

On the way back to London, Mr Jones laughed about my erection. He just said "That doctor went a bit far but it serves you right." This effectively led me to think it was nothing to do with Mr Jones and that I had nothing to fear from him. I was to report to the doctor's house on Monday morning by 9.00 a.m.

The medical would be completed. "Enough to insure you are in a condition to look after the boy." We would then go to a solicitor to sign a contract before going to Mr Jones's place.

It all seemed rushed and I wanted to show the contract to someone before I signed it. There would be no chance. On the other hand there had been that note through my door, I felt I should be pleased that it was happening so quickly but 3;

I was taken to Kings Cross and took the five o'clock train. It was nearly empty. It didn't matter too much as I spent the time in the lavatory dribbling out pee. While I hated that doctor, I felt it was my fault and that I deserved it! I called on Father Francis and told him I had been given the job but there were some vibes I didn't like. He said that it was my first job and I hadn't planned to work yet. It was only natural that I was uneasy. He gave me a meal and I listened to the choir practice before going home.

It must have been ten o'clock before I got home and everything was dark. I went in. The lights weren't working. With difficulty I felt my way to the hall cupboard where there was the fuse box. Suddenly I was grabbed and a blindfold put over my face. "Now we can have the lights back on" I heard someone say.

I didn't recognise the voice. Someone put my hands into cuffs behind my back and none too gently shoved plugs into my ears. Someone explained that I could hear but not clearly enough to recognise the voice. I remember thinking I must know some of them or they would not have bothered.

"I am pleased we can now collect absolutely everything. Strip him completely" a voice said. "He must be wondering what is going on so I best tell him. Your Papa hurt some men very badly, financially and otherwise. They want revenge and we have been asked to take it for them. We are stripping the house (and you) of everything. We will then do the same to the garden. Tomorrow night we will burn the house down and damage the garden as much as we can.

"However now that you are here, we can have a bit of extra fun. Some of us – those that go to your school will have to leave in the morning. You will have to do your best to make it up to them before they leave. I am pleased to see the idea excites you looking at your prick."

My description of that night can only be very brief, as, without the use of my eyes and shell shocked, I have little information. I was a virgin. This was all that had happened to me sexually up then other than half a dozen circle jerks when I was thirteen, and my girl had allowed me to cop a feel once.

I knew what fucking was but had never considered that a man could fuck a boy!

By the end of the night, I had learnt how wrong I was – at least twelve times.

Eventually I had the blindfold taken off. The lads I knew had gone. There were still five young men there. I was made to service each of them. It was worse as I could now see what I was doing.

They cleared the rooms, one by one. They started with the furniture, carpets and curtains. Then they removed things like the fire surrounds, fitted bookcases, and even a false floor. They actually made me help them clear Eric's and my bedrooms. They had taken off the handcuffs but padlocked a thin chain around my balls and cock. It was as tight as they could get it. It was locked in turn to a heavy chain. This itself locked to the banisters. I wasn't gagged but I knew that no one would hear me as the house was too far from the road. I couldn't see out anyhow to know if there was anyone nearby and I was too afraid to try.

Due to the doctor's punishment, I needed to pee urgently. They had no intention of letting me use the bathroom. It was much more fun to watch me dribble pee around my old home. Worse was to come when they found an old enema apparatus in the bathroom. However, they didn't use it gently as my nurse had done when I was a kid. They also reminded me that the toilets were still out of bounds! Mid morning they sat me down by the telephone with all our telephone lists. I had to ring everyone up to say I was going away and that I had no address yet, but I could be contacted via a British Monomarks number.

There was no opportunity for me to try to get help as they listened very carefully. Once these calls had finished, they rang up the Australian talking clock and left the phone off the hook. Anyone trying to ring would find the number engaged.

They then went through the few things that had been put on the side as my private things. I had to explain what they were. They found Eric's rubber sheet. I had to tell them how often he peed his bed. They seemed to think it might have been mine! There were several sex aids that they found in my parents room. Each of them was tried out on me. The youths who had stayed seemed sexually insatiable and I was sore everywhere.

Unfortunately for my backside, they also liked using a razor strop that they had found. My backside was very sore before they finished with that. It wasn't so much, the implements they used on me, as the sex that they repeatedly demanded from me. I had to tell them of the treatment that the doctor had meted out. They made me rub my cock almost constantly. By eight o'clock on Sunday they had finished. They had a pile of old boxes and things in the cellar. They then made me light it. They waited until it was burning strongly.

It couldn't be seen from outside. I knew it wouldn't be spotted until too late.

I was put into an old pair of Eric's PE shorts. The only other thing, which they left for me to wear, was a painfully tight pair of his gym shoes. The men then put elastoplast around my wrists and the base of my cock. My hands were not too tightly fixed but had to stay behind my back over my backside.

Although it was nearly snowing, they gave me nothing else to wear.

They drove me a long way in the back of the removal van. "NEVER return to the village or 3;" When they let me out of the van, they said "You are on your own." As a parting gift, one man grabbed the back of the shorts and ripped them up to the waist band.

I was not too far from a main road and soon found a sign pointing to London. "28 miles [45 km]" it read. It must have been at least ten o'clock and luckily the road was deserted. The situation was worse as I had been forced to drink quite a lot. My prick was dribbling and the pee ran down one leg. Moreover, I needed to do a 'number two'.

Somehow I got to the doctor's place about seven o'clock the next morning. I sat on the door step actually crying. The doctor arrived some time later and I was taken into the warm. I better not release you until Mr Jones arrives as you are his responsibility. I decided that I had no alternative. I felt a lot better after a cup of hot cocoa. He put me on a rubber sheet on a bed and I was soon fast asleep. Mr Jones arrived and I woke up, when he shook me, I found it difficult to come to properly. When I was awake, he wanted a full account of what had happened. I had to describe every sexual act at length. He insisted I told him my reaction to each and which were less abhorrent than the others. This was even more difficult as I hadn't taken the drugs that the doctor had given me. Those had loosened my tongue then. Since I had spoken about similar things then, there was no reason in his eyes for me to refuse now! Eventually the elastoplast was removed. The man explained this was just a consulting room and there were no toilets nor anywhere else to have a clean up. I was however feed and given a bowl to wash my face. I had just finished when the lawyer arrived. However, I was too far gone to read the document and just signed without the slightest objection. I was soon to find out what a mistake that was. The solicitor did not want to discuss anything with me. He just wanted me to sign. He had got my signature and that completed his work.

The document was not yet signed by Mr Jones however as my medical had still to be finished. I still don't know if the man ever bothered signing it. It was so one sided that really it was just obligations and promises on my side. He was giving nothing away. For example two clauses will give you the idea:

15. The party of the first part (me) will undertake all educational and companionship duties that the party of the second part (Mr Jones). Any questions of the extent of these duties shall be decided by the party of the second part and the party of the first part shall have no appeal. These duties shall be directed towards the party of the third part (Mr Jones's son) or wherever else the party of the second part decides.

31. The party of the first part is under contract for the term of eighteen months, or whatever extension the party of the second part wishes with the party of the first having no appeal against any such extension. The party of the first part can terminate the contract after notice of two years. The party of the second part can terminate the contract instantly. In the case of the contract not being concluded due to either side giving due notice, the party of the first part shall not have any rights to recompense for any part of the time during which he has worked or will work. He and his dependants shall owe whatever moneys would be charged if they had lived at the Savoy Hotel for the full period that the contract ran together with the period of the notice. They will only have rights over whatever possessions they had before the contract started. If the contract is completed without either party giving notice the party of the first part shall be paid the sum of five thousand pounds less the costs of his and his dependant's board. This charge is to be decided by the party of the second part without the party of the first part having any appeal. The party of the first part shall work off all debts before leaving the post.

As you can imagine, the other fifty-three clauses tied Eric and me in knots. The contract would not have stood up in a law court but I would never get the chance to find that out.

I was allowed to go back to sleep again and I have no good idea of time. All I know was that, when we eventually left, it was night. Once I woke up properly, someone gave me a bowl of water to wash my face.

Other parts of me were in greater need of cleaning up as I had lost control in my shorts. I pointed this out to the doctor. All he did was to put a clear pair of a child's plastic pants over them. However, while doing this, he pulled my prick out of the shorts. It was still under the plastic but in full view. He undid the elastoplast to put the pants on. Before I could do anything about anything my wrists were retaped together behind my back. Any thoughts I might have had of escape were dashed. My elbows were pulled forward and a rod inserted behind them but over my chest. This rod was fixed at a height that forced me onto the tips of my toes.

At this point, a boy, maybe a couple of years my junior, came in. The doctor said "I want this session recorded in the usual way." I naturally objected.

The doctor warned me "You open your mouth again except to answer my questions and you won't sit for a month and that is not a treat. It's a promise." I decided to bide my time. Anyhow I had no alternative. They were, I knew, all mad, stark staring bonkers and at the first opportunity I would put as many miles as possible between them and me. I am still waiting for that opportunity.

The doctor explained that Mr Jones was interested in my sexuality. He didn't want his boy abused so the doctor needed to check that I would be safe with the boy. The doctor carefully put a series of thin straps round my penis and connected them to a recorder. This, he explained, showed the state of my arousal. I was hard as a rock due to his earlier treatment but that would not stop an extra ripple indicating on the machine. He showed me that it worked before tucking my prick back in its damp home. He then connected the machine to the video recorder. In the recording these readings showed as a wavy line at the bottom of the screen. The next couple of hours or so were awful. I was so embarrassed.

He injected the truth serum, as I thought of it, into me. Then he started questioning me. He covered every detail about my, almost non-existent, sex life.

What I had done in the changing rooms at school? What I had done with my girls and what I had tried or wanted to do? What I dreamt about? Where did I wank? Had I ever been caught (Yes, by my mother) and what had happened? (Nothing she ignored it) What did I know about Eric's habits? Had I ever seen a girl, or a woman naked? What parts of people's anatomy interested me most? What about boys? What would be the ideal boy for me to see naked 3;

You get the idea. I had to answer every question while the damn machine recorded my real feelings. There was also the young kid listening to it all and enjoying my humiliation. At one point Mr Jones stripped the boy and kissed him. The boy didn't mind and had a huge hard. I didn't know where to look.

When the doctor ran out of questions I thought that might be the end but it was only the end of the first part. The doctor showed some slides on a wall. I had to describe and comment fully on every drawing and photo that made up the slide collection. Whenever something excited me, I knew I would give myself away but I couldn't do anything about it. The first few were heterosexual activities but then they became sadistic and homosexual but these turned me on even more. I didn't know why. Indeed this was completely new ground to me. The last photo as it turned out was of Eric when he was having his medical. I had no idea that he excited me in that way but I came violently as soon as I saw it. Thankfully I was allowed to relax for a few minutes.

Mr Jones said to the young lad "You look as though you are on heat. Do you want him to relieve you? You could fuck him although he is very messy or he can suck you, but he is inexperienced."

The boy said "In spite of the mess I would like to get up him."

Mr Jones took over the camera and filmed the action. A rubber sheet was put on the floor and the boy worked my rubber pants down just far enough. He then enlarged the hole in the now filthy shorts and without a pause pushed straight up into me. It was violent but almost before I had realised the still small cock was inserted into me, I could feel it shoot.

The boy however kept going pause and the next two times I knew exactly what was happening. Initially he kept up a commentary. When he stopped, I was again questioned on my reactions. My answers are difficult to hear on the video as I was crying so much. The boy eventually stopped. The doctor took his place and the boy took the camera. This was a very different thing plunging into me. It was a large adult cock and it had not been greased. It got up somehow and in spite of my tearful protestations the man soon came. The boy had recovered enough to use my mouth and apparently I now knew enough to be able to bring him off. Again the doctor followed on after the lad. I didn't want to do anything to help him but they ordered me to purse my lips and let him fuck my mouth.

The shorts were pulled up and I had to lick both cocks clean. The doctor put drops in my eyes that caused them to go right out of focus. I could still see light and shade but that was all. I was taken downstairs and into a garage.

The doctor put me on the front passenger seat of a car. They taped my feet to the front supports of the seat. I was exhausted but they bound my hands anyhow. We left the boy and doctor behind as Mr Jones drove me to my new home.

Unfortunately I couldn't see much. I could make out a large clock at one point but couldn't see the hands. Whenever I drifted off to sleep Mr Jones would ask me a question. I was then expected to answer fully. The pills had lost their effect but I was just too tired to lie. I said to him that I wanted to be let go but he told me some terms of the contract I had signed.

It was just getting light when we stopped. We had arrived but he left me in the car which was in a garage. Exhausted, I slept solidly. I was too tired to think about what was to happen or to dream.

Mr Jones returned and untied me. He had to help me into the large house. Once inside he took me into a large bathroom and supervised me having a hot bath. I was even allowed to wash my hair of which I was very proud. He took into a lounge and gave a full meal. It hardly worried me that I was still nude. He had seen me naked so often.

He then explained my duties. As he spoke, I became steadily more horrified but there was little I could do. When eventually he had finished (There was plenty more that he left unsaid) I was questioned to see if I understood fully. He then took me outside and onto a well-kept lawn. There was a curious structure.

Two wooden poles, rather thicker that a table leg, were concreted into the ground about five feet [1½ m] apart. Between them there was a very small pond. There were ledges about six inches [15 cm] wide between the poles and the pond. The poles were some six feet [1.80 m] high and joined at the top with a wooden cross piece. In front of the pond was yet another pole about two feet [60 cm] away. This was only about four feet [1.20 m] high. The area behind the pond was gravel covered. All the poles and the cross piece had numerous holes cut in them. At the side of one pole was a closed wooden shed about the size of a large dog kennel. All this was in the middle of the lawn which stretched away in every direction for some forty feet [12 m]. Behind the structure the lawn abutted the house.

On the lawn between the house and the poles were about two dozen garden chairs. There were also tables of drinks and a barbecue stand, already smoking hot. It was a very poignant moment for me as I looked at the makings of a garden party. It was so like the sort of thing we used to do at home. I had to admit it was on a larger scale. That would have upset Daddy! My thoughts were running on dangerous lines. At least my current problems had stopped me grieving for my parents. It was a cold day and not the sort for a normal garden party but here nothing was normal. There were many industrial heaters and a big awning.

I was allowed to examine every thing other than what was in the shed. When I looked cold I was given a very large whisky. I said that I never drunk anything more than a little wine. He told me to drink it up so I did. I sputtered a bit but it mostly went down. He gave me another! When I tried to ask what was to happen and about the poles, the only answer I got was "Use your imagination." It was possibly a year before I understood most of the purposes they could be put to.

I was made to stand with my legs apart on the ledges. My ankles were tried to the bases of the poles. My wrists were tied and the cords pulled through holes very high up on the poles. These cords were pulled until I was in a fair degree of pain and spread eagled. He put a gas mask round my face and ropes from it led to the third pole. The mask had blinkers and I couldn't turn my head at all. I just looked at the distant trees swaying in the light breeze.

I heard voices. Most were of male adults but some seemed to belong to either boys or women. There was too much chatter to distinguish what was being said.

One heater was blowing a stream of warm air at my behind. It was a very odd feeling but I was not too cold. From time to time a hand might stroke my buttocks. At other times another hand would gently squeeze my balls. I couldn't even look down there to see what the hand looked like let alone to identify its owner. Mr Jones fed me some bits from the barbecue rather as if I were a pet.

Eventually the general noise abated and Mr Jones brought a boy into my view.

"This is your new tutor and he will do just as you want like the others did. Now have a good look and feel" the man said.

I could feel the boy's hand stroking me as if I were a dog. He was dressed in very posh and then fashionable flairs and a thick knit jumper. He was slender blue eyed with blond hair and delicate features. His head was a mass of blond curls. I would have thought he was only eleven but had been told he was older. With his dad he seemed shy, which was hardly surprising seeing what the man had put me through!

The man then spoke to everyone. "This youngster is under contract and he will be working here for at least eighteen months. I hope you will visit me and make use of his services. However for now he needs to realise that I am not the easiest of employers and that he has been guilty of 'Dumb Insolence'. (– 'What was THAT?' I wondered–) I have decided to give him his first birching. He needs to learn that Donald is also his master, so the boy is going to give the first dozen. I will give the rest."

He put a mirror in front of me. It was so angled that I just saw the ground but the watchers could see all of my body. My cock was still erect and this was pointed out. The drugs were not mentioned. A large bucket was brought out. It was put in front of me. It was filled with what I now know are traditional birches. Since the readers of this will know what they look like, I won't waste our time describing them. The boy selected one and took of his chunky jumper to reveal a thin body covered with a T-shirt emblazoned with the words: Complete Obedience is Everything.

He stood where I could see him and took a few practice swings. Some drops of the water, in which it had been soaking, landed up in my mouth. They were very salty. He tried several birches before deciding.

I felt the rush of air then it contacted my backside. Instants later the fantastic pain seemed to shoot to every other location of my body. I know I screamed. Mr Jones took my cock in his hand and started to rub it. Slowly I calmed down. I saw Mr Jones nod and felt the pain even worse this time. It is no use to try to describe the pain or much else about the punishment.

All the birches were used before the punishment was concluded. Mr Jones's lashes seemed to hurt less than his son's. Later I was to find out that this was only because I had become numb.

When the boy had given his twelve, the man untied my left hand and told me to rub my cock and make it shot. This was real humiliation to perform in front of unseen strangers! Much to my surprise, I did manage to climax. I suppose the medicines were wearing off but it seemed to me to be connected with the pain and humiliation I was undergoing. This association was deliberately built on during the months that followed. The pause and my climax did nothing to help me stand the rest of the punishment. I am afraid I made a fool of myself with all the noise I made. My hand had been retied and the boy had taken over my cock. It remained absolutely rigid and just before the tenth stroke of Mr Jones I came again.

I have little recollection of the rest of the party. There was no opportunity for me to see anyone else. They went indoors before I was untied and put into a clean white tiled room. There was nothing in it. It was just a tiled floor, walls and ceiling, a recessed light and a central black hole in the ceiling.

My hands were back in handcuffs but these were tied to my neck so I could not even rub my sore backside.

However I was alone and that was wonderful. I just felt better because I wasn't observed and to a very limited extent my own master. Indeed the pain in my backside even was diminishing. I closed my eyes and went into a half-asleep state.

Suddenly I was wet. A stream of liquid was coming through that hole. My nose told be what it was. Someone was actually peeing on me! I shouted and thought I could hear a laugh. The stream continued until it became a dribble. The unseen prick was obviously shaken and the drops went all over me. Again nothing but what a marvellous nothing! I relaxed again. There was nothing that I could do about the pee. Then more pee and I realised that the man up there could see me and direct the stream over me. I don't know how many people used the toilet.

Then I heard Mr Jones say "You won't get out until the place is clean. You will have to lick it all up. The longer you wait, the more people will use it. We will watch you through the hole."

That was the end of my feeling alone! I didn't think I could bring myself to lick up pee without even being directly forced. There were three more loads of pee before I started and another one while I was working. Once I finished, I lay there with a very nasty taste in my mouth and a worse feeling inside. I had not been sick although a couple of times I thought I was going to be.

There was no more pee. The upper half of one wall opened and Donald appeared.

"Mr Jones (– He called his father that!?– ) said that I can let you out as you have been a good child."

It took a lot of effort for trussed up me to get out but I couldn't blame Donald for keeping away from filthy me.

I was in a large bathroom and there was a steaming hot bath with a blue tinge to the water. I learnt later it was a mixture of bath salts and antiseptic. Mr Jones often used it on victims after a 'scene' as it both tenderised the skin and stopped infections. Once I was in the bath Donald took off his jumper, shoes and socks and then his shorts. He had been wearing no underwear so he was now completely nude. He bathed me carefully as if I were a baby or a doll!

His hands were gentle and went everywhere. I still had my artificially induced permanent erection. I felt it becoming erect in a normal way as if the treatment had had no effect. He wasn't playing with my prick exclusively and it wasn't that this particularly was turning me on. I was reacting as a child to the caring (loving?) attentions of a parent – and Donald was so much younger than I! When I was generally cleaned up, he got me out of the bath. He then had me on all fours and gave me a series of enemas. I didn't object even when he forced in far too much liquid or when he used a much larger nozzle. I held the liquid in until he let me sit of a child's potty and let it out. He ran another bath and when he had finished the enema treatment, I went back in the bath.

To my surprise, he got in it with me. He played around with me a bit more sexually. Even if my hands had not been tied, I would have just laid back and let him have his way. Eventually he lay me on the bath mat and sucked me off slowly and lovingly. I actually came in spite of the doctor's ministrations and my earlier climaxes.

He then dried me, sprinkled me with baby talc and fed me a meal. It was the sort of food that a child likes. He cut it into small chunks before he put it in my mouth. In spite of this babying, the food tasted good and I was at least replete. He used a small child's feeding cup to give me my warmed milk. I was then taken to a large room and put in Donald's bed. I went straight to sleep and just stirred when later he climbed in beside me.

The next few days I learnt that I was Donald's plaything rather than tutor and I had to do anything that he wanted. For example, he liked to use my mouth as a lavatory and I just had to accept it without making any real complaint. If I did mutter about anything, he spanked me hard and he knew how to do that. I soon found out that the slightest dissent or argument led to a noise on the pipes. This meant that Mr Jones would give me a severe thrashing that evening with an often tearful Donald present. His tears made me love him even more.

Strangely enough he was a clever kid and enjoyed studying and we spent long hours together working on some subject or other. It would have struck any onlooker as odd that I would be stark naked while he might or might not be wearing shorts. There were plenty of concealed onlookers I now know. While most of his academic interests were quite normal, sometimes they were distinctly curious. One of his favourite authors was de Sade and particularly those areas that involved homosexuality and torture. I had to study the original French with him.

In science he had a worse idea, as far as I was concerned He conducted an experiment on me to find out when I wanked: How much liquid I produced each time when I came several times in a row.

How often I could come in a row, and how this was effected by previous recent masturbation. How long each climax took starting with an originally soft cock, and how many spurts were there.

How long I 'needed' between sessions. If any of the results were altered if he or I did the rubbing. What effects other masturbation techniques had e.g. anal, oral. (Not that he often sucked me!) I saw Mr Jones about once a day and sometimes a butler when he brought our food up or cleared it away. Donald chose my food when he selected his own and I started getting tired of liquidised food and watching him eat succulent steaks. MY comments just resulted in the pipes making a noise again.

During the lessons I was never able to give Donald any punishment but he would sometimes punish me for his mistakes. "You need to teach me better" the boy would say. He usually gave me at least two punishments a day. Sometimes they would be just a few love pats but more often they would be the equivalent of six of the best. I say 'equivalent' because he used a vast array of different instruments.

He would often give me a choice, E.g. 'six with the school cane or eight with the five tailed tawse'. I got punished two or three times a week by Mr Jones and they were never love pats. I would have preferred twelve from my old headmaster. Mr Jones never used a birch on these occasions.

The situation between Donald and me was a love Idyll and like all these things it eventually ended. Once Mr Jones came in during the day and unusually sent Donald out of the room. This room with an 'en suite' bathroom had been my prison but Donald could go out whenever he wished. I did want to at least see the outside and once I mentioned it to Donald. I never did again. On this occasion, Mr Jones had serious business. He showed me a letter from my brother.

I will reproduce it here.

Dear BBB, [This stood for Big Beautiful Brother]

I need your help. As you know I was being teased a bit when I saw you last. Now some boys are making my life a misery and the teachers are not helping either. Please take me home or anywhere away from here.

Love LLL

Dear LLL,

I hope everything is O.K. now. If it isn't, write again and I will try to get Mr Jones to have you move in with us at once. As you know you are coming here at the end of term anyway – Won't that be nice? If you have to write again you MUST give as many details of what has happened to you as you can. I need to choose carefully what to say to Mr Jones. In particular is any of the bullying involving things under your trousers? If it is then there must absolutely be a full account of what has happened. I need names but these letters will never be shown at school.

Love (hoping all is well now)
BBB

Dear BBB,

I got your letter. I had hoped that a car would have arrived to pick me up. I understand that Mr Jones needs to be persuaded but I need help NOW !!!! Please help me.

First my dormitory captain, Williams, took my pyjamas away and gave me a thin girl's nightie to wear. It covered nothing at all. When I refused to wear it, he invited the other boys in the dorm to give me three strokes with their plimsolls. 3 x 11 =33! The housemaster put his head round the door I really did see him but he just went out again. Williams gave me another thirty-three strokes. I put the nightie on! Everyone calls me Erica now.

My swimming costume and my PE kit have vanished and I am having to do both naked.

I have been caned five times this week by the masters and six by the prefects and none of it was my fault. Johnson, The house captain called me into his study and said "You cannot keep yourself out of trouble. I have decided that until further notice you will not wear underwear so caning you will hurt more. Anyhow I have told the other prefects to have you strip starkers for your canings from now on. You will report to me after each one before returning to get your clothes back. You will then go into the middle of the tennis courts to put them back on."

Often boys snatch my clothes before I can get them on. For the last ten nights, I have to put my nightie on. I, then, have to go to another dormitory. The dormitory captains make me get in bed first with them and then with their friends.

There is always something new and horrible happening. Williams has 'invited' me to go out on Sunday with six other prefects. Please collect me before then.

Please.

Love LLL

Dear Mr Jones,

As you asked I am sending you a report of Eric's treatment. I must thank you for the money. I would like to join you for the first two weeks of the Easter holiday. It will be fun educating Eric without the petty restrictions of school. The teachers' behaviour, vis-à-vis our bullying of Eric, has surprised me. I know that his father cheated the special fund for retired teachers at this school out of a lot of money. It is, never the less, a catholic school and much of what we are doing must be unacceptable. They seem to be as interested in caning the lad as we are. Very useful!

Eric's corporal punishments are steadily increasing in frequency and severity. There is no prefect who is now not taking part in this. The boy's ex-fag master a sixteen year old swat had to be demoted but the others got the idea fast!

Eric hates being seen nude even if nothing else is done to him and we have been building on that. There are plenty of senior boys who are jumping on the band wagon of being able to sodomize a junior without risk. The junior boys were more of a problem. A few punishments given to Eric's ex-friends and a few rewards to boys who were bullying him have worked wonders.

We make the boy masturbate himself stark naked in the classroom. He has to do this at morning break and at 4.00 directly following afternoon school. Most of his class watch or do more! As arranged he is coming out for the day next Sunday with me and a few cronies. Thank you for making the cottage available.

Yours faithfully,
Williams

Dear sir, I will be pleased to join you for the latter half of the Easter break. I look forward to sharing Eric's room and getting to know him even better than I have since meeting you.

Johnson

Mr Jones said that he could collect Eric, as a special favour to me, but not before midnight on Sunday. I objected and not only got another thrashing but also had my hair shorn. I had been so proud of it! Mr Jones insured everyone at the school other than Eric knew he was about to leave.

When the man arrived, he had just returned to his own bed and was wearing the baby doll nightie and baby nappies. These covered the proof that he had shared many boys' beds earlier that night. He hadn't been allowed to clean up or use the toilet since.

I was unaware that Eric had been collected from the school. I didn't see Mr Jones for a couple of days not that this was unusual. However I will give you a sort account of what happened to Eric when he left from the school. You must understand that I have only recently heard the full details.

At 9.30 am on Sunday, Eric was taken out by the seniors. They had organised a taxi which took them all to Mr Jones's cottage. It was about half a dozen miles [10 km] from the school. Eric wore a pair of grey flannel short shorts, a T-shirt and plimsolls. They were not his but had belonged to a ten year old boy from a nearby prep school. This poor little lad had been stripped by some local toughs when going home. One of Eric's bullies had spotted the clothes in the rubbish bin of a local park. They had looked reasonable on Saturday morning when Eric had first put them on. Since then they had lost many fly buttons and both trouser pockets. Also, there were now several interesting rips in the shorts.

While the boys wore a uniform during the week, they could choose what to wear at weekends. Such childish clothes had never been selected before but no one other than Eric objected. Very occasionally shorts were worn but only sports shorts and only in the heat of the summer.

Once the taxi had left, they made Eric strip off these few clothes. They were left in the garden. It was pouring with rain. When he went back to school, he was even less presentable than usual. However, much was to happen before then.

The morning was spent with the other boys getting their rocks off and using Eric as a useful aid. The afternoon was different. Six young men, however virile, will have come to a halt long well within the ten hours that they were to be there. Mr Jones had felt that a little instruction was in order to wet the appetite of Johnson and Williams! At a suitable time Eric was blindfolded and some ear muffs put on to him. The doctor, Mr Jones and a few others arrived including a fourteen and some sixteen year old trainee boys.

The doctor gave a series of demonstrations using drugs and various other pseudo-medical treatments. He was an expert with various electrical gadgets.

He also had a hobby of giving unusual forms of corporal punishment.

By the end of the day the schoolboys had climaxed at least three times as often as they had ever done before within a day. The trainees had done even better. They knew from experience that if their performance was less than perfect, they would be on the receiving end shortly. As you can imagine this is not a happy episode for Eric nor do I enjoy relating it. Eric is my dear little brother and he had never done anything to hurt a fly. I know that I will suffer if I leave anything out but I am hoping that I have covered it in enough detail.

The boys got back to the school in the early evening. Eric was allowed to stay in the gym changing rooms where several of his own form mates 'kept him company'. This gave an opportunity for his clothes to be hung up to dry off a bit. Unfortunately by the time he put them on again, various liquids had been 'spilt' onto the floor. He had to use his shorts to mop them up before he was allowed to dress again.

Later that night Mr Jones collected him. The man saw the housemaster first then went to collect the boy from his dormitory. Before Mr Jones and the doctor went into the dormitory, both donned leather masks and did their utmost to insure that their appearance would terrify Eric. The boy was in his baby doll nightie and nappies. (Luckily as the fright he got, caused him to have a minor accident.) The clothes he had been wearing were beside his bed. In moments the two men had the petrified lad 'dressed' in a straight jacket and well gagged. This is how he left the school and his earlier life. Other than last night's clothes etc., everything was sent on later but never seen again.

Eric ended up in the same doctor's consulting room. His 'treatment' was somewhat different to his first medical. First the boy was untied and stripped. Both men had already taking off their masks before leaving the school. They did not want a policeman to stop them while they wore masks and had a tied up nearly nude boy in the back! After the doctor administered the 'truth serum', he used hypnosis on my brother. Soon the kid was talking openly about everything that had happened to him. He had been rather put off that Mr Jones had stayed and was sitting on the only spare chair. Mr Jones put naked Eric on his lap.

When the session was well underway the door bell rang and the doctor let in Father Francis. Eric said that he would have gone to hell or anywhere to avoid being seen there dressed as he was particularly by the priest.

Mr Jones said "I asked Father Francis to come along. He is an old friend of yours and he will hear your confession later as it seems that will be necessary."

Father Francis got a chair from next door. Eric could see plenty of other chairs there but none were brought in. He was just moved onto Father Francis's lap.

The doctor said "The boy will recap as it is better than playing this tape."

Eric had not even realised that the session was being recorded. As he spoke the doctor or Mr Jones stopped him from time to time if he had left out something or said it differently. The boy was no longer in a trance and he didn't know if had succeeded to keep any secrets before and didn't dare try this time. Father Francis did nothing to make things easier on the kid. He made disapproving noises from time to time.

When the session concluded they all had lunch. Eric's included the pill which was an antidote to the serum. By the time they had finished the meal Eric was feeling very uncomfortable. He knew exactly what he had admitted and that Father Francis would strongly disapprove. He was also naked in from of virtual strangers and the Father. Worse was his prick had got stiff presumably he thought because he needed to pee desperately.

Father Francis said "You don't need to confess normally as you have said everything here so publicly. You must understand that these things are mortal sins. If you had been masturbating on your own in bed, it would have still been very serious. The bible says clearly that you shall not spill your seed upon the ground. What you have been doing is much worse. You could have easily put a stop to this activity with other boys. You just let them get turned on by your bodily beauty. The blame is yours as you seduced these poor older lads. Now we have to decide how you can make amends. Only then can we consider absolution. I will visit Mr Jones in some weeks and will hear if you have turned over a new leaf. So you realise the importance of all this you will ask Mr Jones to spank you today. You will continue to ask to be spanked daily until I can grant you absolution. Now the doctor is going to friction your penis. Maybe this will get rid of your seed which is making it so hard. If he can make you produce it, you will lick it off his hand so it 'does not get spilt onto the ground'. Mr Jones will then give you your first spanking, when you have asked nicely for it."

It didn't take the doctor long to get a few pearls from Eric's cock. He said "I think there is more but my wrist is getting tired. I wonder if I could ask one of you 3;"

Each of them made the boy climax once. It was then time for him to ASK to be spanked. Mr Jones agreed to this request and used his hand for several minutes.

I was told to try to count the strokes on the recording but it proved difficult as Eric's crying drowned out much of the sound. Eventually Mr Jones got tired and just as with the masturbation, poor Eric found his bum warmed by both of the others. Mr Jones then brought Eric here to his new home. The boy was dressed in nappies and rubber pants. "To hold in the heat "according to the doctor. He had blackened out contact lenses fitted, and yet more elastoplast kept his hands at bay. He travelled in the car just like that.

They played a tape of the just finished session continuously playing to keep his mind on how wicked he was.

3; 3;

I will pick up the story the next morning. I had not seen Mr Jones since Saturday and I had not heard anything about Eric. Naturally I was perturbed but quite helpless to do anything constructive about the situation.

Donald had given me a rough morning and at midday Mr Jones came in. He ignored all my enquiries. They put me into a straitjacket and forced a gag into my mouth. A dog's collar and lead were put onto me and the end given to Donald.

"Bring your slave into the garden" the man told Donald. It was the first time that I had left the room and I was excited but nervous about Eric.

The lawn was set out as before but the punishment area was differently arranged. A pole was suspended horizontally between the two posts at mid thigh level. They had mounted a saddle on this pole as used in Wild West type movies. There was rope fixed to the small post. At the other end of the pond a heavy weight lay on the ground with straps attached to it. I was laid on the saddle to get the feel of it. They didn't tie me down and let me stand up. I was so grateful that they all laughed.

I had time to look around and there were about twenty people there. All of them were male and two thirds were adult. The rest were boys my age or older.

At first I saw no one I knew. Then I picked out Father Francis. To my horror I saw three of the boys who had burnt down my home. Then there were two boys who had been expelled from my school for undisclosed reasons. We had all thought that it was some combination of rape, drugs and bullying. I decided , correctly that they had also been at my house that awful weekend.

I looked back at the house and saw how very large it was. I noticed that many windows were bared and I thought I could see movement behind many of the bars.

However, all this was of little immediate concern Mr Jones and the doctor, whose face I will never forget, spoke to me. He told me that Eric was nearby and would soon be most important person there. He had done evil things and needed punishment. He had been sentenced to be fucked by three youths publicly and then given twenty-four strokes of the cane.

When I objected, Mr Jones said "How can you make a fuss when you don't know exactly what he has done. However I will make you an offer. You will fuck him and come right up his arsehole. Then you will give him a dozen of the best. If you do all this properly, I will forget the rest. You will not attempt to explain why you are doing this to him."

I thought carefully and agreed. His punishment would be halved and I was sure I could make it up to him later. He was brought out and laid across the saddle with hands tied to the rope and feet strapped to the stone. Nothing was said to him. He had seen me and had tried to catch my eye smiling weekly.

He looked so very vulnerable.

I was untied and had to put on the show. I noticed there were no less than six people making videos! It surprised me how excited I was at the idea of raping my little brother – for his sake! It was easy to enter him even without grease. I wondered what had happened to him earlier that made him loose enough for me. After I came, everyone wanted an encore. Mr Jones said if you value your and your brother's hides you better give a good repeat performance.

Then I was given the cane. It was a good six inches [15 cm] longer than any other I had seen and was very whippy. I started but was made to give them slowly "Let the effects sink in." About half my strokes were rejected as too soft and they were not counted. By the end I was hitting much harder to make sure they all counted. Eric was making a lot of more noise when he received those final strokes.

After I had finished, I was taken back inside before I had the opportunity to explain things to Eric.

3; 3;

I had ended the first part of my training but was starting a different regime. First a wall in my room was 'removed' and suddenly windows appeared. I was allowed to watch the various 'initiations' that were carried out on the front lawn if Donald allowed it. He soon found out that a most effective punishment was to pull me away from the window at a critical point.

He also took me outside quite frequently. A large video screen was put into the room. For two hours each day, it would be filled with a picture of Eric undergoing training. I never knew when it was a recording when it was live.

Eric was not being trained to be like me but to be like Donald. There was a youngster of about my age, Peter, who was Eric's tutor and who Eric could abuse.

Peter was already trained and it was easy for Eric. He was given hypnotic instruction by the doctor to develop his unusual interests. It was strange to watch this change in my brother. Eric and I were no longer punished for our own faults but for each others. Eric had clearly not forgiven me for what I had done to him on the lawn, so he didn't mind getting me punished. I had little chance to explain.

When I was being punished for him, I was told a video was on in his room so he could watch. Sometimes I was not gagged for the punishment and that was my only opportunity to explain things to Eric. I know now that this was not an oversight on Mr Jones part. He enjoyed hearing a boy begging forgiveness with a cock in his mouth or with his balls on fire. The other change was that it was not only Donald and Mr Jones that punished me. Various adults might punish me in front of Donald and the video camera. Worse youngsters of my age would perform on me. The ones I hated most were those who had destroyed my home.

Once this was discovered, they were nearly always involved.

They lived in an 'Institute for Antisocial Young Men' which was next door – half a mile [800 m] away. It was run by the doctor who tried out various 'treatments' before putting them on the market as trained young sadists. On some three or four occasions I had a different punishment. I had to spend twenty-four hours at the institute. Eric also had this punishment twice. Naturally I saw his treatment live on video and then some recorded highlights.

It was nearly Easter and Eric and I were allowed to spend sometime together.

It was strange we actually wanted to have some violent sex together. These sessions were undoubtedly being recorded but that was beside the point. I let Eric beat me with a small buggy whip to make up to him for what I had done to him. Afterwards lying on top of the bed I entered him and I spewed three times without a break.

Then Williams arrived. Poor Eric was very worried. He hoped that what he had been told was to happen actually would. You can never tell with Mr Jones he doesn't know the difference between lying and telling the truth. All that concerns him is what will serve his ends best.

Eric was not allowed to have any sort of sex for a week. This was not an unpleasant experience as sex was not yet a particularly enjoyable thing for him. He was put in a small room and dressed in nappies and the baby doll nightie. He was feed and watered then his wrists were tied to the bed.

Twenty-four hours later Williams arrived. Mr Jones took him to a store room and he collected whatever grabbed his fancy. He was then reintroduced to Erica as Mr Jones referred to him. They were locked in the room together and Williams was shown were the bell was. There was also an internal telephone.

I looked after one video camera and Peter the other. Williams was inexhaustible and had a fertile imagination. Some eight hours later Mr Jones went into the room.

Before I continue, I need to give an extract from a report that Mr Jones had received earlier that week. I am not producing the whole thing but extracting its important elements. I only read it twice and haven't seen it for a long time.

Williams Family

The family consists of Father, mother and three boys. The oldest boy is not covered in this report as I gather you have full information on him. The younger two, Andrew ten, and Bill nine go to St. Marks convent school (see the last two school reports for each boy attached). This convent school only takes boys from seven to thirteen. It is all boarding and the Franciscan monks run it in a traditional way, not sparing the rod.

Both boys are doing reasonably well both academically and at sports. Sports are very important at the school. Andrew is in the Colts football team and plays tennis. Unfortunately he is terrified of water and cannot swim. The monks insist he at least goes in the pool. Bill boxes and runs. He is also a good swimmer. Great care is taken by the monks that the boys are not allowed to see each other in a state of undress and the monks have a firm anti smut attitude.

Mrs Williams is a secretary / personnel assistant. She is in the middle of a very intense affair with her boss. Mr Williams did not know of this until we sent him an anonymous letter and is very put out. He is a company consultant and is doing very well but he is taking his company for a ride on his expense account. If they should find out, he knows he would be sacked without references.

Mr Williams is living way above his means and enjoys the good life. His family are just a useful adjunct. He has a strange homosexual relationship with a young man (see separate report). He keeps this very secret from everyone. If it wasn't for social and work reasons they would like to live together. They already enjoy short boating trips on Williams's yacht.

Recommendation: Plan B4.
I can put into operation and you should have all the boys in your hands by the end of the summer term.

I have often wondered about what 'Plan B4' exactly was. All I know is that he uses the Acme Detective Agency for all his nefarious work. They always turn up the goods, or boys to be more accurate.

All this was in the future. We enjoyed watching the show. I was a bit put out as Eric was suffering quite a lot but it was in a good cause. Mr Jones waited until there was plenty on tape. He failed to act for much longer than necessary in Eric's and my opinions. Then he suddenly opened the door and stood back in horror. I could only think in terms of the London cops tradition comment "What's all this 'ere then?"

He hauled Williams off Eric and within five minutes poor Williams was being interviewed as I and Eric had been. The main difference was that Eric and I were there watching and Peter was filming. Williams knew we were all watching and that he had been tricked. I must give Williams his due. He must have realised he was trapped even if he had not comprehending what changes this would make to his life style. He made a genuine effort to brazen it out.

However once the doctor's injections started to take effect he was lost. I watch him sign a 'full confession' which not only admitted what he had done but what he intended to do. He signed it and it was legally witnessed. The next few hours were great fun even if they brought back unpleasant memories.

Eric was put in charge of Williams and he put him into nappies, which Eric personally made sure were constantly wet. The next day there was an 'initiation on the front lawn and both Eric and myself were asked to give part of the flogging. The only significant difference between it and mine was that Williams was not blindfolded. Williams was assigned to be Eric's 'Tutor' and I was very proud of my brother! He really enjoyed making the older boy's life hell on earth.

It was disappointing that Johnson's visit was cancelled but he had an older brother and two younger SISTERS! Everything quietened down after Williams left (for three months but he didn't know that). Donald and Eric got new tutors while I was sent to learn various things at the doctor's institute. I enjoyed it and forgave the boys who had burnt down my home, when we did some operations together. I did take my revenge but a year later and that is another tale.

Early June – The three Williams boys joined us. Mr Jones assigned Williams to 'tutor' Eric. The man made me the headmaster of the 'crèche'. This looked after the boys who were not ready to become tutees such as the younger two Williams boys. I enjoyed the work. If I had them for six months, I could have them ready by the time they were ten. I need to know a lot about the boys first.

Thus to put Andrew in a diving suit and throw him into a pond for six hours is very effective but it wouldn't do anything if used on his brother.

That's the whole story until last night.

Mr Jones called me into his room he told me he was dying and asked me to keep the place going. I didn't have to think.

I am the new boss.

The end – or the beginning