Zelamir

Into Care

Sequel to the Nicky series

Part 1

Today they were due to drive down to Pembrokeshire to the cottage Brian had hired for the summer. He felt happy and excited.

Suddenly there was a loud knocking on the front door followed by a persistent ringing of the door bell.

Nicky jumped out of bed and pulling his shirt on, the only clothing he was allowed in the house, ran down stairs. As he reached the front door he heard Brian come out on the landing above him.

On the front door step stood a large man wearing a crumpled suit. Immediately behind him were a policewoman and two police men in uniform. Beyond them stood a man and woman dressed in civilian clothes. Four police cars with their lamps flashing were parked on the road.

"Mr. Roberts," the large man said looking past Nicky at Brian. "I am Detective Inspector Samson of the Thames Valley Police, I have here a place of safety order in respect of Adam and Nicky Roberts. I trust there will be no problem in executing it. I must further tell you that you are not obliged to say anything and if you do your words will be noted and may be used in evidence."

"Police Woman Evans take the boy upstairs and help him to pack some clothes and find the other boy as well."

The police woman followed by the two uniformed constables stepped past him into the hall.

The police woman put her hand gently on Nicky's shoulder.

"Are you Nicky or Adam?" she asked quietly.

"Nicky." "Well Nicky will you show me where your room is and where Adam sleeps as well and I'll help you get a few things together. You're both going to have to come and stay with us for a few days."

The two police constables had already reached the top of the stairs and were beginning to crowd Brian back into his bedroom. Nicky caught a glimpse of his stricken face.

"Now, now Sir," he heard one of the police men say. "I'm sure you agree it would be better just to let the boys go quietly rather than making a fuss. Better for them 3;" The man's voice was cut off as he followed Brian into his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Adam alarmed by all the noise was sitting up in bed.

The police woman glanced at his bare shoulders.

"Don't you boys have any pyjamas?" she asked.

"No," Nicky replied. "Dad says they're not necessary."

"Oh does he. Well both of you get dressed and then we'll get a few essentials packed and we'll be on our way."

Adam started to get out of bed and then hesitated.

"I don't want to get dressed with you in the room," he said. "Couldn't you just go and wait on the landing please while we do it.?"

"Now don't be silly both of you. I've got to stay with you and there's no need to feel shy. I've got two younger brothers so I'm quite used to boys."

Reluctantly Adam stood up.

"Who gave you that?" the woman asked her voice reflecting her shock as she caught sight of the bruises that the cane had left on Adams bottom.

"Oh these," Adam touched them lightly. "Dad. I argued with him a bit."

"Hello Adam, Nicky," it was the woman dressed in civilian clothes. "My name is Mrs. Rogers. I'm a social worker. How are we getting on then."

"They don't have pyjamas. Their Dad doesn't allow them any," the police woman said meaningfully, "and have a look at Adams bottom."

The social worker glanced at Adam and drew her breath in. She turned and before Nicky could protest lifted up the tale of his shirt.

"This one's had the same as well," she said.

"Well you help Nicky to pack," Mrs. Rogers continued briskly, "and Adam you show me where your clothes are. I've brought a big plastic bag for each of you."

"Can we say good bye to Mum and Dad?" Adam asked as they came out onto the landing carrying.

"Not now Adam," the social worker said. "They're doing something else at the moment."

A police man stood on the landing outside their parents room. Through the closed door came the sound of raised voices.

"I want to," Adam said stubbornly.

"We both want to," Nicky chimed in.

"Now come along boys 3; Oh blast stop them!"

The two boys darted across the corridor. Adam reached the policeman first. He had no trouble in catching hold of the boy. But Adam wriggled and kicked so much that Nicky was able to dodge past him.

He burst into the bedroom and seeing his mother sitting in a chair by the window her head buried in her hands sobbing ran across to her and threw his arms about her.

"Mum, Mum," he shouted. "What have they been doing to you?"

"You," he said glancing round fiercely and fastening his gaze on the Police Inspector, " what have you been doing to my Mum?"

He was grabbed from behind.

"Sorry Sir," the policewoman said. "He just broke away from us."

Strong arms carried him struggling from the room down the stars and outside to the waiting police cars.

He gave up struggling. There were too many of them and they were too big and too strong for him to have a chance. Then he realised that he was being put into a different police car than Adam.

"I want to travel with my brother," he shouted.

Adam began to yell and fight as well.

The policewoman and a man in civilian clothes forced him into the back seat of the police car. Sandwiched between them he saw looking back through the rear window Adam still struggling on the pavement.

At the police station he was taken from the car. He kept looking behind as he was taken inside hoping to see Adam again but there was no sign of him. He was guided by the police woman and the civilian man who had travelled in the car with him to a light comfortable room with arm chairs, a sofa and a coffee table and a couple of straight backed chairs.

"Sit down Nicky," the man said quietly. "Are you hungry? I am sure you could do with some breakfast. We could get something for you from the canteen."

"I'd like some corn flakes please," Nicky said politely. He suddenly found he was very hungry. He remained standing

"Of course and something to drink?"

"Orange juice please if I may."

"I'll get it," the police woman volunteered and left the room.

"There, now while Angela gets your breakfast we can get to know each other. I'm Peter Stevenson and I'm a social worker. You're Nicky and your Mum is Mary Roberts and your step dad is Brian Roberts. Is that right?"

"Yes and where's Adam and can I go home after I've had my breakfast please."

"We're looking after Adam for the moment Nicky. There's no need to worry about him, he, like you, is quite safe now. As to going home, well we'll have to see. I and other people have a lot of questions to ask you but the sooner they've been asked and the sooner you've answered them, the sooner we can decide about you going back to your mum. Now why don't you sit down."

Nicky sat cross legged on the floor as he was require to do in the sitting room at home.

"No here on the sofa beside me."

"Oh sorry," Nicky said scrambling to his feet. "Dad won't let us boys sit on the chairs at home. He says they're for adults not for little boys."

"Does he? Are there any other rules he's made like that?" the man sounded interested and friendly.

"Oh yes," Nicky said responding to this. He told the nice man about only being allowed to wear shirts in the house and how Brian had chosen ones with broad stripes because he said the boys looked better in them. He told him how Brian had bought shirts from Marks and Spencers and British Home Stores but had decided shirts from the latter shop were best because they had shorter tails. He told him about the open door rule and the no pyjama rule and lots of other rules that Brian had made.

He was still talking when Angela came back with his breakfast.

"I think," the man said as she put the tray on the table in front of Nicky, "that we have something here."

I wouldn't be surprised," she said seating herself in the arm chair. "Both boy's bottoms are badly bruised. The Doctor has just arrived and will be here in a minute."

A balding middle aged man wearing a dark suit and carrying a black brief case hurried into the room.

"Good morning everybody," he said cheerfully. "So this is Nicky and just having your breakfast are you young man. Well you finish that up while I have a quiet chat with Mr. Stevenson to get the back ground to everything. We don't want your corn flakes going soggy eh?"

He drew the social worker into the corner of the room where they talked together in undertones. Nicky busy eating his breakfast could hear nothing of what they said but noticed that every now and again they would glance in his direction.

As soon as he had finished eating the doctor came over to him.

" Now Nicky," he said kindly, "I want to give you a medical examination to see if there is any thing wrong with you."

"Do you want to take him to the examination room Sir?"

"No I don't think so, Constable. Less alarming for the boy here."

"It's going to be a thorough examination Nicky so I want you to take all your clothes off. I also want Mr. Stevenson and the Police Constable to be here during the examination so that they can see what I am doing and if necessary tell other people about it. You're a big boy and you won't mind that will you?"

Nicky was not at all sure if that was right. He was used to his Mum and Dad and Adam seeing him with nothing on but being naked in front of three strange grown ups was a different thing all together, especially when one was a woman. However he was a naturally helpful and obedient child and anyway, he thought, perhaps if he did what they wanted it would bring nearer the time when they would let him go home.

The examination was not too bad to begin with. The Doctor examined his scalp, peered into his eyes and mouth, sounded his chest and back with his stethoscope. David began to wonder why he had been made to undress. Then the Doctor sat down in one of the upright chairs and putting his hands on the sides of Nicky's hips drew him close.

"Now Nicky stand still there's no need to be frightened," he said as the boy tried to shy away. "Did your Dad ever touch you there or play with these?"

"No never. Please stop. He never touched me there. Please." Nicky could feel himself getting excited and the thought of the police woman seeing that filled him with embarrassment.

"Never dried you after you've had a bath or been swimming or anything?" the Doctor continued remorselessly.

"Well yes, sometimes."

"Then he did touch you there. You must tell the truth Nicky."

The doctor took a jar of Vaseline and a pair of rubber gloves out of his brief case.

"Now Nicky I'm going to have a look at your bottom. It maybe just a little bit uncomfortable to begin with but if you're good and do as your told it will soon be over. Now get down over my knees."

Nicky glanced round desperately. To have to lie face down over the man's knee and have him fiddling with his bottom in front of strangers; Nicky was appalled by the thought.

"Shall I leave for the moment Sir," Angela, who had noticed Nicky's distress, suggested.

"No. No, certainly not Constable, I need you as a witness. Now come on Nicky don't be a big baby, over you go." He caught hold of the boy by the arm and guided him firmly down across his knee. Nicky lay there his naked backside stuck in the air feeling utterly humiliated. He felt the man's hands move gently over his buttocks.

"Hum, distinct subcutaneous bruising. When did your Dad beat you last Nicky?"

"Night before last Sir."

"And what did he beat you with?"

"A cane Sir. Oh!"

"That's all right Nicky. I'm just putting a bit of Vaseline there so I can get right inside. Try not to tense up boy."

"Why did he beat you Nicky?" Mr. Stevenson asked.

"I changed my school report from a B- for English to a B+. Oh!"

One of the man's fingers was right inside him now. It hurt but at the same time Nicky realised with alarm it was making him increasingly excited.

"Well there's no doubt about it," the Doctor said. "Clear signs of anal dilation."

"Now I'd better take a swab just in case. I doubt if it'll be any use but you never can be sure. Tell me David when did your Dad last play around with your bottom."

"I 3; I don't know 3; Ouch 3; what you mean Sir."

"I mean when did he last go up there. Where I've just been."

"He never has Sir. Never."

"Ah well, that's all over. You can get up now. It wasn't too bad was it?" The doctor landed a friendly open handed pat on Nicky's bare rump.

Nicky got to his feet trying to hide his very obvious excitement with his hands. The police woman smiled and tactfully turned her head away as the boy scrambled into his clothes.

"Perhaps we could have a word together outside Doctor?" Peter Stevenson suggested.

The two men left the room.

"The boy's in denial of course Peter," the Doctor said as soon as they were alone together.

"You're sure that he's been abused?" the social worker asked.

"Absolutely certain and as I understand the position it could only be the father. There's the other boy but he wouldn't have been big enough to explain the dilation I have observed."

"I don't know yet what if any thing the medical examination of the other boy has turned up," Peter said doubtfully. It will be difficult if there's nothing there and both boys deny anything has happened."

"It's quite possible Peter that the other boy has escaped his father's attentions. As I understand it he has being living away from him for some considerable time. What is clear is that this boy has been abused and must not be returned to be abused again. That is my advice to you. Should it ever become necessary I will make it known to the relevant authorities that I have given you that advice."

"Yes but you just can't take a child away 3;"

"If I may make a suggestion. You send the boy to the Ovingdean House Home. You could then get my diagnosis confirmed by my colleague down there, Dr. Shaw, who of necessity, with that institution situated in his practice, has become a recognised expert in such matters. It will be very difficult for anyone to argue against such action on your part with the opinion of two independent medical men to support you."

"Yes 3;Yes that may well be the solution Doctor. We do have some placements there already as you know and it would have the added advantage of taking the boy well away from his step-father."

"I'll get on with it straight away. We really need to get him in there today if we can."

"And I must get on with my rounds."

Back in his car the Doctor picked up his car phone.

"Ovingdean House 3;Good can I speak to the principal please, Doctor Butler speaking."

"William, Andrew Butler here"

"Yes very well thank you. Now look here Peter Stevenson the social worker down here will be telephoning you in the next few minutes to place a boy with you, Nicholas Roberts."

"Yes he is a good looking boy. Twelve years old, blonde hair, slim very pretty really. A desirable addition to your stable I would say. I've just examined him and said he shows unmistakable signs of sexual abuse. The step fathers the prime suspect."

"No there's no evidence of it at all but I was thinking if you get our good friend Doctor Shaw to say that he has examined him as soon as he arrives at the home and to support my view. 3; There's no need of course for him to actually bother to see the boy at all 3; Well I'm sure it won't be long before he will have all the symptoms and whose to say then that he got them after rather than before he passed into your care."

"No I'm sure the step father hasn't done any thing like that to him but the man's obviously a bit of a control freak and that's made him vulnerable. One of the neighbours reported him because he heard the boys being beaten."

"Well I'll leave the rest of it up to you then."

"Thanks same to you."

He replaced the receiver and drove out of the police station yard a satisfied smile on his face.

After the Doctor had gone Nicky was interviewed by a lot of different people all of whom asked him similar questions about his Dad and what his Dad did to him. One lady even produced a doll and asked him if his Dad had ever touched that bit of him or done all sorts of other things that Nicky until then had never even thought of. Finally Angela the police women had turned up and said the people had arrived to take him away.

"Am I going back to my Mum and Dad?" Nicky asked as he trotted along the corridor beside her.

"Not exactly," she replied. She did not Nicky thought sound very happy.

When they arrived at the public counter room there were two very big men wearing dark blue uniforms. They looked very like police men except that they had big round yellow badges on their shoulders and on the front of their shiny peaked caps.

"So this is the boy," one of the men said. He did not sound very friendly.

"Yes," Angela said, "and look here he done nothing wrong you know. He's just in need of protection."

"If he's done nothing wrong then he's the first boy I've ever come across that hasn't," the man replied and the two of them laughed.

"Any way we can't take him like that. We won't accept responsibility for transporting him unless he's wearing uniform. Company rules. Get those clothes off boy. Joe you've got the stuff for the brat haven't you?"

"Here they are Tom," the other man said producing a plain white plastic bag.

"If he's got to change can't you let him do it in one of the interview rooms?" Angela asked, note of desperation in her voice.

"Haven't got time for that. Anyway, what is he, something special or what. Come on boy get those clothes off and be fast about it and those pants. Everything boy. Fast."

Frightened and confused Nicky scrambled out of his clothes in the public room while Angela looked on unhappily.

"Now get these on," Tom said tipping the contents the plastic bag on the floor in front of Nicky.

There were a pair of thin white cotton shorts, a white T-shirt with printed in large scarlet letters across it's back OVINGDEAN BOY'S HOME and a pair of plain blue plimsolls.

"Doesn't he get any under pants?" Angela asked. "Those shorts are so thin you can see right through them against the light."

"So you can Miss," Joe said equably peering at Nicky. "So you can."

"Come on boy, sharp now, out to the car," Tom man said taking Nicky by the scruff of the neck and marching him out of the police station. Joe followed carrying the plastic bag containing Nicky's few possessions.

Nicky was bundled into the back of a large black car that stood in the station yard. Joe got in beside him and Tom drove. Nicky tried to move as far away from Joe as he could.

"Please," he said almost crying. "Please couldn't I go home to my Mum and Dad please?"

Joe cuffed him hard on the side of the head.

"Speak when you're spoken to boy and when you speak to a member of the staff you call them Sir. Do you understand.?" he rapped.

"Yes"

Crack. This time he back handed the boy across his face knocking his head back and splitting his lip.

"Yes what? boy."

"Sir. Sorry Sir."

"And don't forget. As for going home. No you're not going home not now 3; not ever. You're coming with us and you'll stay with us so you'd better make the best of it."

"Oh Tom," he said to the man in front of the car. "Do you know he's gone and got blood on his shirt already."

"Dear, dear," Tom replied. "Matron won't be pleased with him. She doesn't like little boys that mess up their clothes and cause expense and everything. I wouldn't like to be in his shoes when we get to Ovingdean. He's certainly starting off on the wrong foot."

Nicky sat hunched in the corner of the car as it pounded steadily along the motorway. As time passed he became increasingly conscious of another discomfort apart from the soreness about his mouth and ear where he had been hit. He needed to have a pee. Hewas afraid to speak after what had happened but his need was becoming more urgent. He began to shift about in his seat.

"Hello," Joe said eventually. I think we've got a problem Tom."

"What's that?"

"The brats going to wet himself if we don't stop sharpish."

"Next service station then."

By the time the car pulled into Leigh Delamere services Nicky was beside himself. Holding onto himself with one hand he tried to wrench the car door open but found it was locked.

"Now, now," Joe said. "Not so fast boy. We cant have you running off and leaving your new friends can we."

He took pair of handcuffs from his pocket snapped one cuff round Nicky's right wrist and the other about his own left one. People turned to stare as they crossed the crowded hall of the service station. Joe was much the bigger and stronger than Nicky and he took his time. When they got into the toilets Joe insisted on making a fuss unlocking the cuffs and warning Nicky in a loud voice to snap into it and not to even think of trying to take a runner. Nicky only just managed to got his shorts down over his hips, there were no flies, in time. The relief was immense. Then he realised that he was standing with his bum bare, the bruises left by Brian's last beating clearly visible, and that everybody in the toilets was looking at him.

"Been in trouble has he?" said one of the men to Joe.

"Yer vicious little bugger he is, though you wouldn't think it to look at him now."

"What did he do?"

"Oh tried to rob an 84 year old woman of her pension money. Cut her with a knife when she tried to resist."

"I didn't 3; 3;," Nicky started to protest and then broke off as Joe hit him across his backside with the handcuffs.

"Shut up you. No talking."

"That's right," the man said. "Treat him rough. He deserves it. I see he's had his bottom tanned already. I reckon he needs more of it. It's the birch that young thugs like that need."

There was a murmur of approval from the rest of the men in the toilet.

"It was his Dad that tanned him," Joe said. "Mind you I would have done it as well if I was him. Just wish I could do it now."

A man landed a kick on Nicky's rump as Joe marched him out of the toilets. The blow sent Nicky staggering forward. Joe pulled him up short and then sent him spinning hard against the wall.

"Try to make a run for it would you," he shouted slamming his free hand into the boy's stomach. Nicky doubled over gasping for breath. Joe twisted his arm up behind his back and ran him out of the service station.

Back in the car Tom turned round to look at the boy.

"He's bleeding again Joe," he remarked. "See he doesn't get any on the upholstery. It's a bugger to shift blood is. Here give him this Kleenex."

It was evening. They had left the motor way a good two hours ago. The roads along which they journeyed had got progressively narrower and less crowded. Now they were driving through a thick wood. Trees pressed in on them on either side. Then to the right a high stone wall topped with a treble strand of barbed wire replaced the trees.

The car slowed and turned off the road stopping in front of tall solid metal gates. Two cameras set on the gate posts swung to focus on them. On the gates was a large notice

Tom rolled down the drivers widow and spoke briefly into the intercom. The gates swung open and Tom drove through. The gates clanged shut behind them. The drive was narrow but tarmacked and well maintained. It ran for a short distance through rhododendron bushes. It turned sharp left and across a wide smooth lawn stood a large Victorian country house built in the mock Gothic style set about with turrets and battlements. It even had a moat and a drawbridge. The car rattled over the bridge and drew up outside a heavily studded double door.

"Journey's end boy, out you get," Joe said pulling Nicky out of the car after him.

He rang a bell beside the double door and spoke into yet another intercom. The door swung open into a vast gloomy hall. Pushing Nicky ahead of him Joe crossed this, his footsteps echoing on the bare flags. He came to another door and knocked. A voice answered and he went in still holding Nicky firmly by the arm.

It was a large comfortably furnished book lined room. Seated behind a desk at the far end was a big bald headed man, sitting in an easy chair facing him was a thin sour looking woman dressed in a severe navy blue dress that had a suggestion of a uniform about it.

"The new boy Sir," Joe announced

"And a pretty miserable looking specimen too," the man remarked coldly. "How did he get in such a mess Joe."

"Tried to make a run for it when we stopped at the service station to let him go to the toilet Sir and then tried to resist apprehension Sir."

"I didn't 3;I didn't try to run away," Nicky protested.

"Did you speak to the boy Matron?" the bald man asked sounding mildly puzzled.

"No Mr. Adams."

"Joe I don't think you spoke to the boy did you?"

"No Sir"

"And I didn't either. Hold him for me Joe would you."

Mr. Adams got up from behind the desk and picked up a heavy cane about a metre long. He walked round the desk and took up position in front of Nicky. The boy held firmly by Joe cowered away from him.

"You speak,"

CRACK

Mr. Adams delivered a fierce back hand cut across the front of Nicky's thighs. The boy gasped with pain.

"When you are."

CRACK.

"Spoken to."

CRACK.

Mr. Adams stepped back and sat down on the edge of his desk.

"I will now introduce myself," he said mildly. "I am Mr. Adams. I am principal of this establishment. You call me and every male member of staff 'Sir'. This lady you call Matron. It is her job to look after your health. She is good at curing little boys aren't you Matron."

"They seem to forget their illnesses very quickly when they see me," the woman said with cold smile.

"I understand that you have been sent here because you have been sexually assaulted by your step father. Now you may think that you can impose on me and get sympathy out of me by pretending that you are some sort of a victim. I am not so simple as that boy. If you hadn't played up to the man, incited him, led him on, he would have left you alone. I know you for what you are, not a victim, but a wicked scheming little boy. I'm used to dealing with evil boys like you. All the boys arrive here thinking they're clever, that all they've got to do is to hang round looking put upon and they'll have an easy time. They very quickly find that they are mistaken and you will find that too."

"You've come here because you're a nasty little boy and it is my business and the business of my staff here to beat that nastiness out of you. I've no doubt it will take a long time and a great deal of effort to do that. But you are going to be here for a very long time indeed and I don't begrudge the effort that will be required."

"You haven't started well either boy. Trying to run away. assaulting a member of the staff while absconding. Damaging property of the home by bleeding on your clothes. Contradicting a member of staff. Not a good beginning."

"Strip."

Nicky hesitated. He still had some residue of pride and the idea of undressing before the two men and worst of all Matron with her strange hard eyes horrified him.

"Strip boy or do you want Joe to hold you while Matron takes your clothes off for you."

Hastily Nicky removed his clothes and then stood to face the principal. He made no attempt to cover himself with his hands. He remembered how such demonstrations of modesty had annoyed Brian and he assumed that Mr. Adams would be similarly effected.

"Fold those clothes up neatly boy. This is my study not a rubbish dump."

Watched by the three adults Nicky had to kneel on the carpet and tidy his clothes up. When he was back on his feet Mr. Adams turned to the Matron. "It is my intention to give this boy twenty four strokes of the cane, twelve this evening and twelve tomorrow morning. In your professional opinion Matron is the boy in a condition to take twelve strokes now."

"He's a perfectly healthy little animal, Principal. In my opinion you could safely inflict all twenty four stroke on him now. But you are always very kind to the boys."

"I think Matron it would be as well to postpone half the punishment till tomorrow morning. It will give the boy something to think about overnight. It will keep his mind clear of unhealthy thoughts."

Part 2

"Now over the end of the desk there boy. Bottom right up in the air. I want the skin nice and taught. Put your hands out along the desk. Matron if you would be good enough to hold the boy's hands. Thank you."

Nicky lay across the desk his bare bottom raised and taught ready for the cane. It was a position with which he was all too familiar. His Dad and increasingly his Mum had often required him to offer his bare rump for punishment. But although the position was a familiar one the terror and humiliation he now felt was altogether greater. He loved his Mum and his Dad, even if he had come also to fear them a little. He knew that they cared for him and that they hurt him because they cared for him. When they beat him it was for his own good, to make him a better boy. They had told him so often. Sometimes they hurt him a great deal and he would cry and whimper as the cane raised weals across his bare flesh but even as he suffered he knew that when the punishment was over he would be forgiven. He would be cuddled and comforted. His tears wiped away. His nose blown and wiped clean.

This time was it was very different. These people cared nothing for him. Mr. Adams was going to beat him, not because he cared about him, but because he thought of him as an animal to be tormented, hurt and broken. Joe had been cruel and unjust to him on the journey down and he was sure would be so again. As for the Matron, with her strange unfeeling staring eyes, who had looked at him as though he was not a life feeling creature but a slab of meat, he knew he would look in vain for cuddles or sympathy from her.

He felt the touch of the cane against his bare flesh. He tensed. Mr. Adams was measuring his distance. It would not be long before he began.

"Hold that boy's hands tight now Matron," the Principal ordered.

The cane hissed down and cracked across Nicky's unprotected flesh. The pain drove the breath out of his body. He fought for air as the man stood over him waiting for the spasm to pass.

A second time the cane slashed down. Nicky screamed as the pain tore through him.

Another pause.

"You always make them scream really loudly, Principal," Matron remarked admiringly.

"Yes I want his cries to be heard all over the building. It has a good effect on the other boys."

The beating resumed. The sound of wood striking bare flesh, the screams of the tortured boy, the drumming of his bare feet on the floor as he leapt and writhed in his agony filled the room. Mr. Adams worked his way steadily from the top of Nicky's bum downwards to the top of his thighs, each stroke placed neatly parallel to the preceding one. At last the beating was almost over. The man stood back to admire his work. He was, as he often remarked, a craftsman and took a pride in a job well done. The boy's backside was covered with bruises, scarlet blending into deep red and deepening to purple and dark blue.

Slightly changing his stance he delivered the final two blows diagonally across Nicky's already ravaged flesh. The boy's screams reached a fresh crescendo.

"I doubt if there's a boy in the place who didn't hear that," Mr. Adams said with satisfaction.

Matron let go her grip of Nicky's hands. The boy sank sobbing to the floor at Mr. Adam's feet.

"Joe," Mr. Adams said briskly, "get that disgusting little animal out of here. Put him in the reception dormitory."

"Matron, I want him here tomorrow morning at nine thirty sharp to receive the balance of his punishment."

Joe grabbed Nicky by his arm and hauled him to his feet. He half marched half carried the whimpering boy from the room, across the great hall, through a green baize door and along a dark cold corridor. He stopped outside a plain wooden door with a heavy metal bolt. He swung it open and to reveal a small windowless room which smelt strongly of stale urine. On it's stone flagged floor was a thin mattress with a couple of brown grubby looking blankets. The only light came through the open door.

Joe pushed Nicky down onto the mattress and roughly spread the blankets over him. Without a word he turned and left the room. He slammed the door shut leaving the boy in total darkness. Nicky heard him shoot the bolt home.

Nicky lay there crying quietly. Perhaps the man was right. Perhaps it was all his fault. Perhaps he was an evil wicked boy. Why else was he here and been treated so cruelly. "How my bottom hurts", he thought and then "I've got the same again tomorrow." He cried with redoubled vigour.

Nicky was awake. Huddled in the blankets he could feel the mattress damp underneath him. He had no idea what the time was.

The door swung open and daylight filtered into the squalid room.

"Come on out of there," Joe shouted. "You've got an appointment with Mr. Adams in an hour and you've got to be cleaned up before then."

Joe came right into the room and wrinkled his nose

"God you are filthy little animals the lot of you. Come on get up when you're told."

The man kicked the mattress on which Nicky lay.

The boy pulled himself painfully to his feet. Joe grabbed him by the arm above the elbow gripping him so hard that he cried out.

Once again Nicky was marched along a series of comfortless corridors. Every now and again they met young boys, all were dressed in the home's uniform of thin T-shirt and shorts, all appeared cowed and frightened, all pressed themselves back against the walls to allow Joe to pass.

Eventually they went down a flight of concrete steps into a large room. Down the centre stood a double line of baths while along both walls were a series of showers.

Joe switched on one shower and pushed Nicky under it. The boy gasped as the hot water stung his skin. Joe produced a block of soap that smelt strongly of disinfectant and ordered Nicky to clean himself up. The man stood watching as the boy soaped himself down.

"And your bottom too," he ordered.

"Sir, please Sir it's sore," Nicky pleaded.

"'Sir, please Sir it's sore Sir," Joe imitated the boy's voice derisively. "It's going to be a bloody sight sorer in short order and it'll be sorer still if you don't clean it up. Mr. Adams won't tolerate a boy who presents him with a dirty bottom for punishment. Now come on - or do I have to get in there and clean it for you?"

Gingerly the Nicky obeyed. When at last Joe was satisfied he took the still damp boy back though the house. They passed through the clean baize door and Nicky realised he was in the hall where he had first entered the house the previous evening. It was a vast room dimly lit by mock gothic stained glass windows set high in the walls. In a line along one wall next to the door to the Principles study stood half a dozen boys. All stood facing the wall, hands by their sides. All wore the regulation Ovingdean House T-shirt and nothing else. Some of their bottoms Nicky could see seemed to be unmarked, most however bore the marks of recent beatings. As they approached the boys remained staring at the wall although Nicky thought he detected a ripple of apprehension pass along the line.

Joe lead the boy to the end of the line furthest from Mr. Adams' study.

"Stand there, face the wall, don't look round. Matron will be here in a few minutes."

He landed a hard slap with the flat of his hand on the boy's sore rump causing Nicky to squeal.

Eventually Nicky heard the sharp clip of a woman's leather soled shoes approaching. Two of the boys began to cry. He cowered against the wall his gaze fixed resolutely forwards. Matron passed him without pausing. There was a sound of an open palm striking bare flesh.

"Stop that stupid caterwauling," the Matron ordered as she went into the Principal's study. "You will all have plenty to cry about soon enough."

A minute or two later she came back out into the hall.

"All right. Into the study and line up facing the desk."

Mr. Adams was standing by his desk the cane in hand. Nicky noticed the pillow was already in its place on the edge of the desk.

"First boy step forward."

A dark haired boy from the far end of the line came forward to stand beside the desk. He moved slowly and clumsily as if only partly in control of his limbs. Nicky could see even from where he was standing that he was trembling.

"Sims. Principal," the Matron said reading from a black notebook she held in her hands. "Sheets found to be stained this morning."

"Abusing yourself eh? filthy little beast. All you boys are the same; just animals, no brains, no self control, nothing. Well I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't forget. It's no good trying to appeal to your conscience, to your sense of right and wrong. You boys are trash you don't have consciences. You can't tell the difference from right and wrong. But you've got backsides and I'm going to write such a lesson on your backside that you'll remember it to the day you die."

"Please Sir 3;it was an accident Sir."

"It was self abuse. If I say it was self abuse - it was self abuse you insolent brat. I shall give you twelve strokes now and twelve strokes this evening."

"Matron make a note. See that Sims is here again this evening for twelve further strokes."

"Get down boy."

"Matron, hold Sims tight. I'm going to flog him hard."

Nicky watched horrified as Mr. Adams raised the cane high over his right shoulder and brought it crashing down across the boys defenceless bottom with sickening force. The cane rose and fell with remorseless regularity as the boys shrill screams increased in volume and urgency.

Nicky glanced down the line of watching boys Fear, horror and excitement marked their faces.

At last Sims's flogging was over. The sobbing boy was sent back to stand in line with the other lads. One by one the boys were called forward to suffer the consequences of their juvenile faults. Running in the corridor, loitering in the corridor, idleness, slovenliness, impertinence, none seemed too serious. All were punished by beatings of the utmost ferocity as Mr. Adams laboured at his self appointed task of seeing that the agonised screams of his victims should penetrate to the furthest recesses of Ovingdean Hall.

Finally it was Nicky's turn once again to bend down across the desk and feel the cruel bight of the rod. Numbly he moved forward.

"Ah," Mr. Adams said. "While I always prefer to see the results of my handiwork as a beating proceeds there are occasions when aesthetic considerations have to give ways to practical ones. I do not wish on this occasion to split the skin of this boy's bottom. Matron, soak a napkin in cold water and spread it over the brats rump. That should prevent my bloodying it and will not appreciably diminish the pain that it is my intention to inflict on him."

Nicky started at the feel of the cold damp cloth against his bare skin. Mr. Adams measured his distance carefully. Nicky tensed himself in readiness for the first cut. He knew there was no escape and no point in pleading for mercy. All he could do was to suffer and suffer he did. He soon ceased to be able to distinguish between the pain of the different strokes as the cane cracked down across his bottom. All he was aware of was an agony that seemed to consume his whole body. Vaguely, as though at a great distance, he heard the sound of his own screams echoing in his head.

Then he heard Mr. Adams saying "get up boy" and found himself being pulled to his feet by matron.

"Boys," Mr. Adams said, "that is all for the moment. I hope you are all duly grateful for the time and effort I have spent trying to teach you obedience and respect for your betters. I have no doubt that I will be obliged to give you all similar lessons again in the not too distant future."

"Sims, I would remind you that you have another appointment with me this evening."

"You will all now go immediately to your appointed duties. I will personally flog any boy who is caught loitering."

"Matron, I believe you have a further procedure to inflict on that brat you're holding."

"Dismissed."

The whimpering boys jostled each other in their eagerness to escape from Mr. Adams and his cruel cane.

Matron lead Nicky to a door marked "Sick Bay". Inside the room stood a uniformed policeman.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant Nicholls," Matron said.

"After noon, Matron," the man replied. "This is the new boy is it?" he continued. " I heard you had a fresh boy here and I just came down now to have my usual word with him."

"Well, Sergeant, I was just about to complete his induction process. If you would wait just a second while I administer the enema you can talk to him while he holds it in. You won't take more than five minutes will you?"

"No not more then five minutes. I must say the efforts you and Mr. Adams and the other staff here make to bring discipline and control into these boys' lives always impresses me. It must often be a thankless and difficult task in view of the low calibre of the boys."

"Yes, sweepings of the gutter is what we get here," the Matron said grimly, "mentally, morally and physically degenerate. Take this one, sent here for protection from his father, but you know what that really means, the brat's a natural little whore led the man on."

As she was speaking Matron busied herself placing things on a small table that stood by armless hard backed chair. A strange syringe shaped object with metal nozzle, a jar of Vaseline and an enamel bowl which she filled with warm soapy water. She pulled on a rubber apron and sat down on the chair.

"Come here you," she commanded Nicky. "face down over my knees. Quick now. Legs apart. Relax would you. I'm quite prepared to do this without the Vaseline if you don't co-operate. It won't hurt me."

"Now stay like that. For heavens sake what a fuss. In it goes. There we are."

"Now back on your feet and listen to what Sergeant Nicholls has to say to you."

She tipped Nicky back onto his feet. She smiled as she saw the boy, no doubt feeling the pressure inside him, clench his little bottom as tight as he could.

"Right boy," the Sergeant said ponderously, "I just want you to know that we all round here fully support Mr. Adams in the way he runs this home. You boys are all delinquents and need strong discipline and I'm glad to see from the bruises on your bottom that you've had a taste of that already. Why are you fidgeting about boy?"

"Sir, please Sir, I want to go to the toilet, Sir. Please."

"You'll have to wait until I have finished speaking to you. Now let me see where was I? Ah yes. Don't think you will get any help or sympathy if you come to us with any complaints about your treatment. If any one of you does complain and boys have been foolish enough to do so in the past, we simply inform Mr. Adams and leave him to deal with the matter. I don't think any boy has complained more than once. Do you know of an instance, Matron?"

"No I do not, Mr. Nicholls. Do stop fidgeting about like hat boy. Pay attention to what the Sergeant is saying."

Matron noticed that Nicky was now holding onto the back of his bottom with both hands. She smiled to herself. This was the part of the induction process that she always found the most entertaining.

"Further more," the policeman continued, "should you run away from this place you can be quite sure that you will be caught and returned to Mr. Adams. Even if you get outside my police area the police force that does finally apprehend you will return you to us and we will pass you on to Mr. Adams. Do you understand boy?"

"Yes Sir. Please Sir can I go to the toilet now Sir? I can't hold it in much longer, Sir."

"You'll have to ask Matron, boy. That's her business not mine."

"Matron, please Matron?"

"Yes go on. Use the toilet over there," Matron said indicating a door-less cubicle in a corner of the sick bay.

As Nicky dashed towards it he heard the two adults laughing at him.

"Come on out of there," Matron called after a couple of minutes, "this isn't a holiday camp."

She had ready for Nicky the shorts and T-shirt which formed the uniform for the boys of Ovingdean House.

"Could you do me favour, Mr. Nicholls?" she asked as the boy hastily dressed himself. "Take this boy down to the lodge and hand him over to the Head Gardener. He's to start off working for him."

"Matron, please, could I have something to eat please?" Nicky whined. "I haven't had anything since 3; Ow."

The woman landed a ringing blow on the side of his head with her fist.

"You talk when you are spoken to and not otherwise," she snapped. "You'll get some food when you've earned it. The rule here is no work no food. Now please take him away, Mr. Nicholls, before I get really rough with him."

Half an hour later Nicky was busy weeding a rose bed. Any one looking at him would have thought that he had accepted his fate. But as he worked between the bushes he was trying desperately to think of a way to escape. All he could think of was to get to a telephone. If he could do that he could telephone his Dad, he knew their home number off by heart, and he was sure Brian would come and help him. But he hadn't noticed a telephone anywhere in Ovingdean House. Almost certainly there was one in Mr. Adams's study but he didn't think it was likely he would find a chance to use that. He just had to wait, try to keep out, of trouble and keep his eyes open.

Brian was sweating. It wasn't the heat although the small office was warm enough with the three men crowded into it. It was fear. He couldn't understand what was happening. Perhaps on reflection he had been a little too rough with the two boys but he had never done any thing else but discipline them. He liked them both but it was no more than the perfectly proper affection that a father felt for his sons.

"I tell you," he said desperately, "I never touched Nicky in that way."

"And I tell you Mr. Roberts," Detective Inspector Samson replied grimly, "that we have two independent medical reports that state Nicky has been sexually assaulted over a long period of time. If it wasn't you who was responsible - who was it?"

"The other boy? Adam," Brian suggested reluctantly.

"No boy did what's been done to your stepson," Dr. Butler said.

"Look here Mr. Roberts," the policeman said leaning forward and speaking earnestly, "I'm not pretending we have a cast iron case against you. If we did we would not be having this conversation. You would be in the cells awaiting trial. For one thing Nicholas will not say who has done these things to him. However the circumstantial evidence is strong and if you give us no choice we will prosecute."

"If we do and fail to get a conviction your reputation will be tarnished. I think it unlikely that your wife would be able to stand the heat and we would anyway see that Adam was put on the at risk register so that you and she, if she remained with you, would be subject to constant supervision. That is the best case scenario from your point of view."

"If we succeeded in our prosecution you would face a prison sentence of about six years and paedophiles do not have a pleasant time in goal. Again I would think it likely your wife would leave you. You would certainly loose any contact with Adam. Furthermore when you came out of prison you would have to place your name on the sex offenders register and we in the police would keep a close watch on you and would consider it our duty to inform your neighbours where ever you may move of your conviction, as under the law we are authorised to do."

"Our primary interest in this case is the welfare of your stepson. It seems clear to us that it is in his own best interest that he is removed from your care. In view of the comparative weakness of the case against you we are prepared not to prosecute if you will give us your written agreement to his being taken into care."

"I just haven't touched the boy in that sort of way," Brian said unhappily.

"Mr. Roberts," Dr. Butler intervened, "if you did not abuse that boy somebody else did. That boy knows you are under suspicion but he chooses not to clear you by naming that other person. There are two points I would put to you. First, in that event would it not be as well to get Nicholas away from who ever is abusing him and since we do not know who that is and he will not say, would not the sensible solution be to have him taken into care. Second, if he prefers to protect the man who is abusing him to clearing you from a very grave suspicion that could lead to you spending a considerable time in prison do you really want to risk your liberty and reputation to bring him back here."

"It just sounds so unlike Nicky," Brian protested. "Well I did not abuse him so some one else did. As you say perhaps it would be best for everybody if he is kept away from here. Where's that document you want me to sign."

"It simply says," Detective Inspector Samson explained pushing a single sheet of A4 across the desk to Brian, "that you accept that Nicholas's best interests are served by his being taken into care. It in no way incriminates you."

"You see Andrew," the Minister said, "it is difficult. I care for those boys, for each individual one of them. But once a boy begins to gets much beyond fourteen, well, I loose interest. I can't help it. It's just the way I am. It means that at the most any relationship I have can only last four years and then I have to find a replacement."

Dr. Butler sighed and tried to look interested. He couldn't remember how often he had heard this conversation in the past. The first time he supposed must have been some thirty years ago when he was fourteen and Matthew Ellis the Captain of Rugby, now a Minister of the Crown with a seat in the cabinet and hope of a really important ministry after the next reshuffle, was explaining he loved another. Some how they remained friends and the price of this friendship so far as Dr. Butler was concerned was to have to listen to this particular monologue every so often. Dr. Butler decided it was time to bring the monologue to an end.

"I arranged for a new boy to go to Ovingdean just this week that I think might interest you. Why don't you come down with me this Saturday and have a look."

The Minister reached for the phone.

"My wife please," he said.

"Oh darling. This week end. I am so sorry but the P.M. has asked me to take part in a brain storming session on the drafting of our mission statement on tackling youth delinquency. You know how much he values my contributions on that matter, although not strictly in within the remit of my current office. I do something to counter the influence of all those bleeding heart liberals our party is lumbered with."

"Yes darling I know it's a disappointment."

"I'll miss you too darling."

He put the receiver down and turned to face Dr. Butler.

"What time will you be picking me up William?" he asked.

Nicky knelt on the damp earth, his knees and hands caked with mud, his fingers and bare feet numb with cold. It had been raining for a long time. Precisely how long Nicky did not know for he had lost track of time. His days had become a long round of hunger, exhaustion, abuse and fear.

He heard footsteps behind him. Since it had begun to rain and the boys had had their plimsolls taken away from them to avoid them getting spoilt, footsteps meant only one thing, staff and staff meant, unless you were very lucky, bullying and blows.

The footsteps stopped just behind him. He did not dare to look round, to do so would be to invite trouble. So far as he could judge there were two people standing there. He continued to work at turning the earth between the rose bushes with his trowel. His work was simple and heart breaking. For days now he had been weeding this flower bed. He had worked his way from one end of it to another over and over again. He hated and resented every second he spent there grovelling in the damp earth but he did not show it. He nursed to himself his plan; to get to a phone and to call his Dad and took comfort in his absolute certainty that his Dad would come and safe him.

"That's the boy." a vaguely familiar male voice said behind him.

"He's pretty dirty," another man spoke.

"Just mud. They'll clean him up before he's brought to you. Want a closer look. Boy, you boy come

Nicky pushed the trowel into the ground and stood up. Two casually but warmly dressed men sheltering under a large golf umbrella stood on the gravel path looking at him. One of the men he recognised as being the doctor who had examined him at the police station. He moved closer to them and stood facing them, his hands by his side, his head slightly bowed.

"Well what do you think?" the Doctor asked.

"Quite nice I suppose," the second man replied. "I must say it's handy how the rain makes his clothes transparent. No need to have the brat strip in order to see everything he has to offer."

"Yes," the doctor agreed with a laugh. and then to Nicky he snapped, "turn round boy now quick."

Nicky obeyed. He knew better than to show any of the resentment he felt at being made to stand shivering in the rain as the two men inspected and discussed him from the shelter of their umbrella although he felt the humiliation keenly.

"I think he'll do," the second man said.

"Good, good. Well get back to your work now boy. Quick now," the doctor snapped.

Part 3

Nicky was not kept waiting at the back door of the house for more than five minutes or so before an assistant matron appeared to collect him. After he had stripped off his wet clothes and scrubbed away the worst of the mud from his feet and legs he was allowed into the kitchen where to his surprise he was given a bowl of warm milk. Then he was taken to the basement where after a preliminary shower he was allowed to soak for some time in a deep hot bath. The woman dried him checked him over and supervised his brushing his hair and cleaning his teeth. Nicky had not received so much attention since being taken away from home.

He was issued with new clothes. They were the usual regulation shorts and T-shirt but he noticed that the shorts in particular had been crisply laundered and freshly pressed.

Then the woman took him to a part of the house he had never seen before. She stopped before a door with a security lock. Shielding this from Nicky she pressed a few buttons and swung the door open. Beyond it lay a broad corridor with deep red walls and a thick dark red carpet. At the far end was a short flight of wide steps leading up to a set of closed double doors made out of some dark heavy wood.

"Stay here," she ordered Nicky pushing him through the doorway. "Someone will collect you soon."

She closed the door behind him leaving him alone in the corridor. Nicky glanced round. Large paintings hung on the walls. Nicky looked up at them. At first sight they were dark and their subjects obscure. He recognised a bare limb a touch of red blood. He began to make sense of them and hastily turned away.

He turned to see if the door behind him was locked and saw just inside it a small table and on that table a telephone.

His heart jumped. He did not hesitate. At last he had a chance to get free.

He picked up the receiver and with relief heard the dialling tone. He had a direct line out. He eagerly entered his home number. He heard the phone ring at the other end. Then Brian voice.

"Dad," he said desperately, "it's me Nicky. You must come and get me please Dad. I'm at the most terrible place. I've been beaten 3;"

Brian heard his stepson's voice and his desperate pleas. He hesitated and then replaced the receiver.

"Who was it dear?" Mary called from the sitting room.

"Just a wrong number," he replied. He didn't have any choice really, did he?

Nicky stood holding the dead phone in his hand all his hopes destroyed. Mr Adams opened the double doors at the top of the staircase. His face clouded over when he caught sight of the boy with the telephone. Then he saw the stricken expression on Nicky's face. He smiled and walking slowly over to the boy took the receiver from him.

"Come on," he said quietly "what you need is some one to take care of you and there's someone here who wants to do just that."

He put one arm across the boy's narrow shoulders and began to urge him towards the staircase. A sound of music and laughter came though the partly open double doors. Nicky moved forward - after all perhaps things were going to get better - perhaps. They could hardly get worse - could they?

The steps led up to a large square room. Tall windows with small diamond panes of glass looking out over the rain sodden gardens, formed three of it's sides. Well dressed affluent looking men stood about or lounged on sofas and in arm chairs chatting to each other. Mingled among them were boy's, some naked, some wearing at least some part of the Home's uniform. Most of the fully uniformed boys were moving about the room carrying trays of sandwiches and drinks. By far the larger number were clearly attached to a specific man, sitting at his feet or on his knees or standing close by his side as the man chatted to his friends and idly caressed his boy.

In the centre of the room was a square of highly polished parquet flooring. On it four exquisitely pretty boys dressed in tiny loin cloths gyrated slowly to slow soft music.

Mr. Adams threaded his way through the groups of men and their attendant boys to where two men sat in adjacent arm chairs talking quietly to each other. Nicky recognised one as being Doctor Butler and the other as the man who had been with the doctor in the garden.

A naked boy about Nicky's age nestled on the doctor's knee his head resting on the man's shoulder his lips nuzzling his neck. The Doctor sat with an arm around the boys waist his hand toying with the lad's erect little prick.

"You better be careful, Andrew," Mr. Adams said to the Doctor, "or that boy of yours will come before you are ready."

"One of the delights of this boy," Dr. Butler replied lightly is that, "he can come at least six times to my once. He'd better not mess my clothes though or that nice round bum of his will be all red and sore."

The boy giggled and gently nibbled the lobe of the doctor's ear.

"I've got your the bit of boys flesh you asked for, Matthew," Mr. Adams said to the other man.

"So I see," the man replied lazily reaching up and squeezing Nicky's thigh. "He's cleaned up quite nicely. Turn round boy, lets see your bottom."

Nicky obeyed. He felt the man take hold of his shorts by the elastic band round their top and pull them down over his hips.

"We don't want those on you any more," the man said. "Good firm bottom too. I hope it's as good to fuck as it is to look at."

Mr. Adams gripped Nicky's chin between his finger and thumb and tipped his head back so that he was looking down into the boy's face.

"Listen boy," he said harshly, "Mr. Ellis is a very important man and I want him to enjoy his time here. He has chosen you out of all the other little whores in this place. You give him a good time or your backside and my cane will become acquainted again. And it won't be a mere twelve strokes if you let me down. I'll slice your rump up so that it's just a bleeding lump of meat. Do you understand me boy?"

"Ye..yes Sir." Nicky quavered.

"Good." Mr. Adams pushed the boy roughly away. Nicky staggered back and Matthew Ellis pulled him down onto his knees. Nicky felt something hard pressing up against his bare bottom under the coarse fabric of the man's trousers.

Matthew pulled Nicky close to him so that he was nestling against his chest. He slid one hand up the inside of the boy's thighs and began to toy with his tiny balls. Nicky stirred uneasily. He felt uncomfortable with the man fingering him so intimately, on the other hand, although a week had past, the memory of the agony of the beating that Mr. Adams had given him remained vivid. If the choice was between letting the man play with his balls or having Mr. Adams's cane slashing down again across his bare backside there was no contest. Anyway, despite himself, he was starting to harden. Matthew felt the boy beginning to respond to his caresses. With his free hand he pulled the boy's face round to his. Increasingly excited by the man's hand exploring his crutch Nicky's eyes were glazed, his lips parted while his breath was came in short pants. Matthew bent forward and kissed the boy on the lips slipping his tongue deep into the lads throat. Nicky felt the blood in his prick surge. Fearful of messing the man's trousers he twisted away and landed on his knees on the floor his hands clasped round his pulsating cock. Cum dripped from between his fingers onto the carpet.

Matthew lent forward and gripped Nicky by the back of his neck.

"You've messed the carpet, you naughty boy," he said gently tightening his grip.

"Yes Sir. Sorry Sir," Nicky muttered. "I was afraid of doing it on you, Sir."

A serving boy hurried over with a bowl of warm water and a cloth. He knelt beside Nicky and after wiping the cum from his hands began to sponge the carpet clean.

"You shouldn't have done it at all boy. Do you know what happens to little boys who do things that they shouldn't."

"Please Sir I didn't mean to Sir 3; I'm sorry Sir 3; really Sir 3;please," Nicky whined thinking of Mr. Adams's cane and beginning to cry.

"I didn't ask you that. I asked you what happens to little boys who are naughty. I think from the way you're crying you know very well. Bur just in case I'll tell you. They get their bottoms spanked. Now up with you, face down across my knees, bottom right up."

Nicky found himself back in a position with which he was very familiar. This time though, across the knee of a strange man, being punished for such a reason and with other men beginning to gather round to watch the performance, it was more humiliating than ever before.

Matthew rested his hand on the curve of the boys delicious rump. He noticed how goose pimples had formed on the back of his thighs and thought how strange it was that this always seemed to happen when a boy was about to get his bottom spanked. He supposed it must be a nervous reaction. He mustn't he told himself get carried away. He didn't want the boy's bottom too sore. He had other plans for it for later on. Just enough to warm the boy up and get the lad aroused again.

He lifted his hand and began to deliver a steady series of blows on Nicky's upturned bum. The boy wriggled and whimpered as his palm cracked down on his bare flesh and the watching men urged him to strike harder. Right buttock, left buttock, Matthew alternated his slaps. Then seeing his chance as Nicky's legs thrashed uncontrollably in the air landed a heavy blow between them. The boy howled as the pain struck him. The men cheered and laughed.

Matthew set the sobbing boy back on his feet. He was amused to see his prick was once again standing to attention.

"There," he said, "that's it at least till next time."

He pulled the boy back down onto his knees. Nicky turned and buried his face in Matthews chest trying to hide his shame from the grinning men.

"Gentlemen," it was Mr. Adams's voice, he was standing on the edge of a square of parquet flooring in the middle of the room and was clearly about to make a speech. He was holding a short metallic bar with a rubber handle and a loop of wire at it's end. "Gentlemen, if you will allow me to interrupt your pleasure for just a few minutes."

The laughter and talk died away.

"Thank you. First of all I want to thank you all for the continuing support you have given me over the past year. Without it Overdean House would cease to function. We here always try to give value for money and I hope that we succeed in doing that."

A murmur of assent ran around the room.

"It is our aim to provide you in exchange for your generous financial support with obedient, beautiful and on the whole willing boys for your enjoyment."

This time there was open applause.

"I am always gratified both by the generosity of your support and the interest that you show in the conditions under which our boys live here. In this respect I would say first, that I have arranged to postpone the normal defaulters parade from 9am tomorrow morning to 10.30 so that those, and on past form it will be most of you, who want to watch it will be able to complete your breakfasts before the first boy's bottom is flogged."

"Second ,I plan to experiment with a new tool to motivate the boys. We are continually trying to minimise the costs of keeping the boys and maximise the income from their exploitation so as to keep down the financial burden placed on yourselves. Indeed I hope in the not too distant future to announce, not the need for further contributions, but an actual dividend. The first since the foundation of this institution."

"This time of year we make quite considerable sums from using the boys to lift the main potato crop for certain local farmers. This is done on a contract basis, remuneration being fixed in terms of acres cleared with time based penalties and bonuses. This means working the boys for a fortnight through out daylight hours which at this time of year is about seventeen hours."

"Now the boys at the best of times are naturally lazy and ungrateful creatures and it has always proved difficult to extract maximum effort from them consistently during this period. We have of course used traditional incentives but even the whip can in time become counter productive rendering the boy incapable of work. To this end I have bought a set of electric cattle prods for use on an experimental basis and I thought you might like to see how effective these are."

"I have asked Matron to select a sturdy defaulter for this demonstration and here I think she comes now."

Matron entered the room dragging by his hand a whimpering boy a couple of years older than Nicky.

"Good Matron and what has this young man been up to?"

"He was caught thieving a bacon rind from your breakfast plate this morning, Principal."

"Thieving a most serious offence. You can look forward to being well flogged tomorrow boy. Don't think you are going to escape the cane just because of a little bit of discomfort now."

The boys whimpering turned into a full scale wail as he heard this news.

"Strip now boy and perhaps gentlemen you would like to gather round to observe."

Nicky noticed the boy despite his distress remembered to place his clothes neatly folded on the floor. He also saw from the livid bruises on the lads bottom that he had not escaped a preliminary beating.

The boy got to his feet and turned to face Mr. Adams.

"There are three settings for this instrument, high medium and low. I will first try the medium."

Mr. Adams touched the side of the boys thigh with the end of the metal tube. The boy squealed and leapt away. One of the watching men pushed him back towards Mr. Adams.

"And now high."

Again the boy screamed out. Again he was caught by one of the men and thrown back to the waiting prod. Over and over again Mr. Adams applied the metal bar to the naked flesh of the screaming boy driving the boy round the ring of laughing men. In the end the youth fell sobbing to his knees.

"Right" Mr. Adams shouted, "four of you waiting boys get him flat on his face legs apart, quick now and one on his back parting his arse cheeks for me."

The boy was screaming hysterically before ever Mr. Adams applied the prod to his anus. There was one louder scream than ever. The boy thrashed on the floor convulsively so that the five boys restraining him could hardly hold him in place. Then he lay quite still.

Dr. Butler stepped forward and knelt beside the boy. He rolled him over onto his side. Nicky saw a white froth had oozing from between his lips.

"Just a fit., the doctor said quietly, "leave him on his side for the moment so that he doesn't swallow his tongue and he will be all right shortly."

"All right for me to flog tomorrow?" Mr. Adams enquired.

"Yes, quite all right."

"Good I wouldn't want any of the boys thinking they can escape having their backsides thrashed by just having a fit."

Matthew Ellis could feel his stiff cock pressing up against the his trousers. Watching the boy being tortured had excited him until he was at the point of eruption. H e decided he needed urgently to get his cock into Nicky's tight little boy's arse. Without speaking he ceased him by the nape of his neck and marched him from the room, across the great hall and up the stairs to the guest room where he was to spend the night.

Adam lay face down on his bed crying quietly. It was not fair. All he had done was to ask Brian where Nicky was and why he wasn't coming home and the man had lost his temper and flogged him.

Something was wrong. He knew it was. Brian had beaten him often enough in the past but never unjustly and always at the end when it was over he would give Adam a hug and say something to comfort the crying boy and Adam would smile up at him through his tears and all would be over and forgotten till the next time. Not this time though. Brian had simply thrown the cane to the ground and walked from the room without a word. Any way Adam did not want to be cuddled by a man who could treat him so unfairly.

It was perfectly reasonable for him to want to know where Nicky was. The boy was his brother after all. Then there was that telephone call. Adam had picked the extension up in the kitchen and had heard Nicky's desperate plea for help. It was when he asked Brian why he had put the phone down on Nicky that the man had begun to flog him.

Well if Brian wouldn't or couldn't tell him what was going on and where Nicky was it was up to him to find out. There were one set of people who would know , the police at what ever station Nicky had been taken to. There were only two stations in town. Adam had been taken to the Swindon Road Station therefore Nicky must have been taken to Central.

Although he had always been told that the police were there to help Adam some how felt that they would not be too eager to volunteer information to a boy on any matter at all. He needed some sort of excuse. He could say he had some things he wanted to take to Nicky. He began to think of the other boy's most precious possessions. He could hardly take his mountain bike but there were his roller blades, his play boy, the Manchester United shirt and the old teddy bear that Nicky was a bit ashamed of but would somehow finished up in his bed most nights. Adam slipped down to the kitchen, got a large plastic bag, and packed this assortment of objects in it. As he left the house he could hear Mary and Brian shouting at each other. He had a feeling that things were falling apart.

In Central PWC Angela Thomas was arguing with her Sergeant.

"If you had just one piece of evidence to back you I'd start to do something but you haven't. Dr. Butler speaks highly of Ovingdean. The local police do the same. All you have, Angela, is a feeling that the two men who picked the boy up were a bit on the tough side. And if I had to deal with a bunch of bloody boys I would be the same."

"Nicky wasn't a bloody boy Sergeant. He was a polite obedient very frightened child who had done nothing wrong. As for the local police. Have you ever made an enquiry with another force and been told everything was absolutely wonderful. It's not natural. We would find something to say against Mother Teresa. It shows we're doing our jobs."

"You can't produce one piece of evidence Angela and that's the end of it. If the boy himself had contacted somebody and complained it would be different. But there is nothing."

It was at this point in the discussion that Adam walked into the Central Police Station.

Matthew's bedroom was a large room with windows looking out over the gardens. An open door led from it to the bathroom beyond. Matthew let go of the boy and walked over to the double bed checking that his case had been brought up and unpacked. He saw everything was as it should be his clothes put away the tube of KY jelly to hand on the bedside table.

Nicky catching sight of the toilet in the bathroom became conscious of a pressing need. Without thinking he set off towards it.

"Where do you think you're going, boy?" Matthew demanded peremptorily.

"Please Sir. Sorry Sir. I need to go to the toilet, Sir," Nicky stammered immediately conscious of the seriousness of his lapse.

"Well you ask my permission first, boy."

"Yes Sir. Sorry Sir 3; Please can I go to the toilet, Sir?"

"What do you want to do, boy?"

"I 3;I..I," Nicky was even more confused and not at all sure of the language he should use to describe what was becoming steadily more urgent.

"Do you want to piss or shit?" Matthew demanded impatiently.

"Shit, Sir. Please Sir," Nicky muttered in embarrassment.

"Then ask boy and speak up."

"Please Sir. May I go for a shit, Sir"

"Very well but be quick boy."

Nicky started across the room towards the bathroom.

"Where do you think you're going, boy?"

"To the toilet, Sir. Please, you said I could go," Nicky said desperately.

"You don't use the toilet. There's a pot under the bed. Get it out and squat on that."

Matthew began to undress. He looked down at the boy crouched at his feet. Shorn of all human dignity, forced to perform his animal functions in front of another, the lad was really beneath contempt. And yet in a strange way he felt, not envy: it was impossible to feel envious of a boy who fell into the hands of Mr. Adams; but conscious that, miserable as Nicky's short boyhood at Ovingdean would no doubt be, would have crammed into it more drama if also more suffering than he himself would experience in the whole of a long but boring life.

Matthew slipped off his trousers and underpants. His prick jutted up hard and demanding out of the thick forest of black pubic hair. He saw the boy eyeing it with a mixture of fear and wonder. Matthew felt both emotions were fully justified.

"Come on Boy. Get a move on," Matthew urged prodding the straining boy's bare thigh with his toe. "I'm going to shove a great deal more up that bottom than your emptying out of it."

"Please Sir. I've finished Sir."

"Good. Go and empty the pot in the toilet and wipe yourself clean. And come back here quick." Matthew commanded, adding as the boy set off towards the toilet carrying the pot, "and see you don't get anything on the carpet too." He smiled to himself as Nicky clapped his free hand to the cleft of his buttocks.

When the boy returned to the room Matthew was sitting on the edge of the bed the tube of KY jelly open in his hand.

"Face down over my knees," he ordered.

"Please sir. I 3;I..I'm very sorry Sir," Nicky whined as he obeyed.

Matthew realised the boy thought he was going to be spanked and patted his bare bottom reassuringly.

"It's all right," he said. "I'm not going to beat you this time. Just put some lube on you to make things easier. Spread your legs and push your bum up. Remember this will make it less painful for you." He could feel Nicky's hard little cock hard against his bare thigh.

"Will it hurt much, Sir?" Nicky asked nervously emboldened by the more sympathetic note in the man's voice.

"A great deal, boy," Matthew replied settling the boy to his satisfaction across his knees. "You saw how big my cock is and I'm going to bury that in you up to it's root. But it's going to happen and that's the end of it. And although it will hurt a lot, more than Mr. Adams cane on that sweet bottom of yours it will also give you the greatest pleasure you are likely ever to have."

He parted the cheeks of the boy's tight little rump. He saw that Nicky had been so hurried that he had been less than thorough in cleaning his bottom. It didn't matter. In fact it presented another opportunity to humiliate the boy. He began to work the ointment around the lips of the boy's anus.

Matthew pressed gently. Nicky initially tensed but then pushed his bottom upwards opening himself to the man's probing finger. Matthew pushed his finger deeper and the boy clamped his cheeks tight about it. He seemed to be trying to draw it down into himself.

Matthew pulled the finger back and the boy moaned. He pushed down hard and widened the boy's hole to take a second finger. The boy's bottom clenched and unclenched as he rode the man's fingers. Then he relaxed and Matthew felt the boy's seed gush out over the top of his bare leg.

He set Nicky back on his feet.

"Oh Sir 3; I'm sorry Sir," the boy wailed in panic.

"That's all right," Matthew replied quietly. "You'll be ready again in a minute or two. Just lick it up."

The boy hesitated.

"Now Nicky, now," he snapped his voice once again hard and imperious.

Nicky knelt down at the man's feet. Matthew looking down at the boy's fair head bent over his crutch and feeling the lads quick tongue licking his thigh had to exercise all his self control to avoid cumming himself.

His task completed Nicky hunkered back on his knees. Matthew looked into his face. His lips were parted his eyes soft, fearful and acquiescent.

"You want my cock now don't you, boy?" Matthew demanded roughly.

"Yes Sir. Please Sir." Nicky's voice was hardly more than a whisper.

"Here," Matthew continued, passing the open tube of KY jelly to Nicky, "you grease it up my for me."

"Thank you Sir," Nicky took the tube and began to work the jelly gently into the man's swollen penis. He wondered at it's size and at the feel of the man's blood throbbing under his touch. Would he really be able to take this hard cruelly curved rod into his bottom right to it's root set in the man's forest of coarse pubic hair? What would it feel like? Would it tear his body? It was so large, so demanding, so inescapable. His world had somehow narrowed to include only the man's tumescent member. Very daringly, because unbidden, he bent his head and kissed it's tip. Nicky was like a savage worshipping an idol representing not a god of mercy who would succour and protect but a god of power who could rend and destroy.

Matthew inspected the two fingers with which he had probed the boy's hole. They were greasy and stained. He held his hand out to the boy.

"Lick them clean," he commanded.

Nicky ran his tongue over the man's fingers tasting his own shit and then took them fully into his mouth.

Matthew stood up and arranged two pillows one on top of the other in the middle of the bed.

"Get across them with your bum in the air and your legs apart," he ordered.

He knelt between Nicky's legs and touched the lips of the boy's anus with the tip of his cock. The boy gave a little gasp and arched his back lifting his bottom and opening it to the man. Matthew pushed down into the boy forcing his way past his sphincter with a series of savage thrusts. Nicky screamed as the pain tore through him. Matthew, undeterred by the boy's cries drove savagely down burying the full length of his cock in the lad. He paused a moment as the boy sobbed under him. Then he withdrew his cock a little and thrust down again and again with increasing urgency. Nicky's body despite the pain began to respond. It seemed to Matthew to wrap itself tight about his member and at the same time to draw it further down into itself. Matthew felt his blood surge and then he came shooting his cum deep into the boy. It was a long and many phased orgasm.

After it was over he rolled off the boy. Nicky remained lying across the cushions, his legs spread his bottom elevated, crying quietly. Matthew saw that some semen and a little blood was trickling down the inside of the boy's thighs. The boy stirred, turned his head towards Matthew and smiled up at him through his tears.

Matthew did not smile back.

"Now you lick me clean," he said coldly.

Obediently but a little painfully Nicky crawled down the bed and kneeling beside the man's crutch began to lick the slime from the man's penis.

Matthew bent his knees and Nicky taking the hint slipped his tongue into the cleft of the man's buttocks. Really, Matthew thought, the boy was a quick learner.

For a moment he toyed with the idea of taking Nicky away from the home. He would let him have a real childhood, send him away to school, visit him, make a fuss of the lad, give him treats and just occasionally fuck him. Then he dismissed the idea. It was a mistake to spoil boys. They performed best when they were treated rough. Nicky was living proof of this..

Part 4

"Take it into your mouth," Matthew demanded harshly. The boy's lips parted and Matthew pulled his head forward forcing his cock down into his throat. Nicky gagged and pulled back but the man held him firm.

"Get your head back and swallow it," Matthew ordered, "and cover your teeth with your lips you stupid little whore."

Nicky fought back the panic which was in danger of overwhelming him as he choked on the man's swollen prick. He found he could breath and began to move his head so that his lips massaged the throbbing rod that filled his mouth and reached down to the back of his throat. Within his mouth he pressed his tongue up against the hard pulsating man's flesh. He felt Matthews blood surge. He sensed a strange almost metallic taste in his mouth and then his throat was full of the man's seed. Swallowing desperately he sucked on Matthews cock as the man's cum jetted into him. Despite his efforts semen trickled from his mouth and down his chin.

Matthew fell back on the bed and rolled on to his side a thigh resting across the side of the boy's head. He sighed contentedly and, sated, fell asleep.

Nicky lay there, his face pressed into the man's crutch, feeling Matthews coarse pubic hair against his cheek, his nostrils full of the stale smell of semen, shit and unwashed flesh. He was very sore between the legs where the man had torn him and sore inside as well. He was very frightened, frightened of the man who had so cruelly abused him and in whose power he was. There was no escape and no one he could turn to for help. All he could do was to try to please the man and perhaps in that way win his favour. In time he too slept.

Nicky woke to find the grey light of dawn filtering into the bedroom. He could tell from the sound of the man's even breathing that Matthew was still asleep although his cock was already semi- erect.

The pain between his legs was intense. He did not think he could stand Matthew fucking him again. But if the man woke with an erection it was very likely that that was exactly what he would wish to do. Perhaps if he took the initiative he could at least preserve his bottom from further assault. He turned his head and ran his tongue the length of the man's cock. It stiffened further and he took it into his mouth.

Matthew woke to the feel of the boy's lips about his prick. He lay still for a moment enjoying the sensation and smiling to himself with cold amusement. He was perfectly aware of the nature of Nicky's stratagem and had no intention of letting it succeed. Eventually when his penis was fully erect he twisted one hand in Nicky's hair and pulled his face away from his crutch.

"Now," he said quietly, "you're going to be fucked."

He swung his legs out of the bed and standing up caught hold of Nicky by the ankles. He flipped the boy over onto his back, pulled him so that his bottom was at the edge of the bed forcing his legs back over his head. Nicky lay there his bum up in the air his bottom wide open. Matthew could see the inside of his thighs and his hole were stained with dried semen and blood. He remembered he had not bothered to clean the boy up after he had fucked him last.

"Oh Sir. Please Sir," Nicky pleaded desperately. "Please don't fuck me Sir. Please. I 3; I 3; I 3;'m so sore Sir. From the last time. Please sir 3; Please let me suck you instead Sir. I'll do it really well Sir 3; Please Sir 3; I promise Sir."

Nicky began to sob.

Matthew held the boy in position for a minute or two, saying nothing, enjoying the boys fear. He decided to fuck the boy with no further lubrication than the lad's own saliva on his penus. That would really give the boy something to remember.

At last excited almost to the point of orgasm by the Nicky's misery he pinned the lad in place with the weight of his own body and taking aim with his cock drove savagely down into the boy. Nicky screamed and writhed under his assault but there was no escape as Matthew hammered his prick into the boy's bottom. Nicky's shrill howls filled the room. For a moment his sphincter held but then Matthew battered his way past it and his shaft was buried to it's hilt in the Nicky's bum. Again and again he thrust down while Nicky impaled on his prick yelled in agony. At last the orgasm came.

Matthew stood up and glared down at the sobbing boy.

"For God's sake you miserable little turd don't make so much fuss. What do you think you're here for except to be fucked. Now shut up I want to get some more sleep and I can't with you making so much noise."

Nicky tried to stem his sobbing but the pain was beyond bearing.

"All right if you want it that way. You get in the bathroom where I won't be disturbed by your wailing."

Matthew grabbed Nicky by the back of his neck and hauled him to the door and threw him to the bathroom floor.

"I'll deal with your disobedience tomorrow morning and I'll give you something to really cry about then," he promised slamming the door shut.

Nicky lay on the hard linoleum floor curled into a little ball of naked boy misery. After a time he put a hand to the cleft of his bottom. It felt warm and sticky. He took his hand away and looked at it. The fingers were stained red with blood. He crawled over to the lavatory and gingerly pushed a wad of toilet paper into his bottom in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

Matthew woke again at nine o'clock. He choose a slim leather strap from the selection of instruments lying on the table by the bedroom window. He found Nicky cowering in a corner of the bathroom gazing at him with large terror filled eyes. Ignoring the boy he crossed to the toilet and sat down. Normally he would not have dreamt of relieving himself in the presence of another person but the boy hardly counted. Once seated comfortably he beckoned Nicky to him. The boy came towards him reluctantly.

"Turn round and bend over," Matthew ordered curtly. "Let's see the damage. Spread your legs."

Matthew peeled the wad of toilet paper from Nicky's bum. The boy moaned softly as the mixture of dried blood and cum tugged at his tender broken flesh. Matthew swore sharply as he saw the state of the boy's bottom.

"What do you mean you filthy little slut presenting your bum to me in this state?" he asked angrily. He flipped his finger tips sharply into the cleft of the boy's bottom. Nicky yelped and started away his hands automatically moving to protect his soreness.

"Come back here and kneel down 3; 3; Hands by your sides 3; 3; Now answer my question, boy."

"Please Sir 3; I didn't know I had to, Sir 3; Sir, I'm very sorry Sir"

"You should have known you had to you ignorant little whore 3; I'll teach you respect for your betters before I've finished with you," Matthew raged as Nicky cowered terrified on the floor in front of him.

"Well get over to the basin boy and clean yourself up now," Matthew ordered harshly.

He sat on the toilet watching Nicky dabbing gingerly at his ravaged bottom. The sight of the boys misery had begun to make him harden.

"Look boy," he said and laughed as Nicky catching sight of his enlarged cock began to whimper in fear.

"Go into the bedroom and get down over the end of the bed.," he instructed Nicky.

"Walk like a boy not a fucking duck, "he added sharply catching the boy a stinging cut across the back of his thigh with the strap. Nicky squealed and shot out of the room.

Matthew flushed the toilet. Nicky was bent over the bed waiting for him. When the boy heard him enter the room he lifted his bottom up for the strap in a pathetic gesture of submission.

"You are a stupid conceited little tart. You're only use or value is in the pleasure you can give your betters. You are filth 3; dirt without rights or protection. You exist to serve and please and obey. You have no rights, nothing 3; You seem to think you have some sort of value or importance in the world. You think just because you have a torn backside you are exempt from being fucked. You are not."

"On top of that I told you last night to stop crying. You chose to disobey me. Now I am going to teach you a lesson even an animal as stupid and stubborn as you are will never ever forget."

"Sir please Sir 3;I'm sorry Sir..," Nicky quavered.

"You'll be a good deal sorrier when I've finished with you," Matthew rapped curtly.

He put a hand on Nicky's rump. The boy tensed. He enjoyed for a moment the feel of the boy's smooth cool flesh cool. He took a step back and measuring his distance carefully brought the strap hissing down across the Nicky's defenceless bottom. The skin whitened under the impact and then reddened, deepening to blue and purple at the point where the tip of the strap had caught the boy. Nicky bucked and cried out but managed to maintain position. Over and over again Matthew swung the strap back over his shoulder and then brought it cracking down on the whimpering boy. The room was filled with the sound of the strap singing through the air, of leather striking bare flesh, the cries of the boy, and the thumping of the lads bare feet on the floor as his legs thrashed about uncontrollably in his agony.

At last, out of breath, Matthew stopped. Nicky remained bent over the bed whimpering quietly waiting for permission to abandon position. His bottom was criss-crossed with livid weals.

"On your back on the bed," Matthew ordered. "Knees up by your head and grab hold of your ankles."

Nicky believing he was about to be fucked began to cry more loudly. Matthew stood opposite the boys open legs and turned so that his right side was towards the boy. His eyes focused on the boys tiny testicles. Nicky realising what was actually going to be done to him began to howl.

"Sir please Sir 3;Oh Sir 3;"

"Stop whining boy. You're putting me off and your balls are so small they're not an easy target to hit."

Matthew flicked the strap sharply down striking Nicky along the open cleft of his bottom. Nicky squealed and loosing his grip on his ankles rolled off the bed onto to the floor. Matthew stared down at him as he writhed in agony at his feet.

"Get back in position," he said quietly once the boy was still.

Nicky dragged himself back to his feet.

"Sir please Sir 3;" he whimpered as he reluctantly presented his open bum to the strap.

"I didn't give you permission to move. This time I would advise you to stay down until I tell you otherwise."

"Oh Sir 3; Please 3; It hurts so much Sir 3; Please 3; I don't know if I can 3;"

"It's meant to hurt and you must," Matthew replied harshly to the boy's frenzied pleading.

Reluctantly Nicky got back on the bed and tipped his bum up into the air. This time the tip of the strap caught the boy's testicles. Nicky screamed shrilly but managed with a great effort not to roll onto his side.

Matthew took aim again. He caught Nicky exactly where he wanted, on the bottom corner of his hole dislodging the scab that had formed where he had torn him earlier the previous night. Blood began to trickle from the freshly opened wound down the boy's back.

"That's it," Matthew said triumphantly. "OK it's over, up you get. That's given me an appetite for breakfast."

Matthew led Nicky from the room an arm across the sobbing boy's narrow shoulders. Nicky could feel the fresh blood trickling down the inside of his legs.

The dining room was full of men seated in informal groups about a number of separate tables while their boys, all naked after the night's adventures, hurried to and from the side board with plates of steaming food.

Matthew seated himself

"A bowl of cornflakes and two rashers of bacon, fried egg, sausage and a slice of fried bread. Quick now boy." He ordered.

Nicky forced himself into a painful trot. He saw that many of the boys bore signs of misuse on their bodies and especially on their bottoms. Most were bruised, quite a few like him had bled.

When he got back to the table Mr. Adams was there also.

"I see you needed to beat the brat. I hope he wasn't too uncooperative," he said to Matthew gently touching Nicky's bruised rump.

"Just a question of training," Matthew replied easily, signalling to Nicky to place the loaded tray on the table in front of him. "Quite enjoyable really but I think he could do with a little further straightening out. He has a funny idea that he is of some importance in the world. Told me he was sore and asked if he could suck rather than be fucked."

Matthew laughed indulgently and patting Nicky's bare thigh indicated he was to hunker down on the floor beside him. Nicky obeyed and the man mussed his hair as he chatted with the principal.

"Cheeky little tyke" Adams said with a laugh. "I promise you we'll have knocked all that sort of nonsense out of him before you come down again."

"I'm sure you will have. Let's see next weekend I really must visit my constituency but the weekend afterwards I'll certainly be down."

"And you want the same boy? We've got plenty more for you to choose from if you wish."

"I don't like leaving a job half done. I've still got quite a few little lessons for the lad. Lessons I will enjoy giving him though whether he will enjoy them so much I doubt."

Matthew laughed as Nicky gave a little sob.

"Well we'll have him well in hand for you by then. A fortnight in the potato fields will have broken him for sure."

"All right, thank you now I am going to take him up stairs for his breakfast," Matthew said with a hard laugh. " You are hungry boy, aren't you?"

"Yes Sir," Nicky replied doubtfully there was something in the man's voice that rightly made him fearful. Matthew and Mr. Adam laughed.

Matthew took Nicky back to his bedroom. There he had the boy suck him again, that he told the boy was all the breakfast he was going to get, before he packed his bags. Nicky carried his case down to his car, the naked boy, the case banging against the side of his bare leg following the fashionably clothed man down the main stair case into the court yard. Matthew chucked Nicky under the chin, climbed in the car and drove off.

"Boy, here," it was Joe. "What are you doing standing there you idle little sod."

"Sir I was just 3;"

"You were just hanging around being lazy like you brats always do when you get the chance. At the double now down to the home farm."

"Sir I've got no clothes Sir. Please can I 3;"

"No you bloody well cannot 3;move." Joe swung the short strap he held in his hand and lashed Nicky across the shins with it to reinforce his order. The boy yelped and ran off.

At the home farm a tractor its trailer laden with potatoes was just finishing discharging it's load. Nicky was ordered onto it's back.

As soon as the tractor arrived at the potato field a team of boys carrying panniers filled with potatoes began to load it. Another team stooped double moved slowly along behind a second tractor actually picking the potatoes. Two guards, one carrying a whip the other a metal rod which Nicky recognised with a feeling of sick apprehension as being similar to the cattle prod that Mr. Adams had demonstrated, supervised the boys.

The panniers were heavy and the boys were having difficulty in lifting them up to the level of the trailer despite frequent applications of the whip and prod to their bare bodies.

A boy, who seemed to be on the point of total exhaustion, tried to lift his pannier and failed, he tried a second time as the guard touched his bottom with the prod. He howled missed his footing and fell scattering his load on the ground. The second guard ran up and lashed him viciously with his whip. Nicky was pulled from the trailer and ordered to get busy collecting the scattered potatoes.

Through out the rest of the day he laboured in the field. He like the other boys was hungry and tired but driven on with remorseless brutality by the guards they worked until dusk. Then they were taken to the side of the field. Buckets of water and boiled vegetables were lifted from a trailer. The guards stood round as the boys hungrily scooped the food into their mouths with their hands. The boys were forced into line and told to sit. A guard moved down the line shackling the boys together by their left ankles. One end of the chain joining the shackles was secured to a gate post. The guards walked off leaving the boys lying on the ground under the hedge. Exhausted they huddled together for warmth.

The guards returned at dawn. Sharp kicks in their ribs and buttocks drove the boys to their feet and breakfastless they were sent back to work. Nicky was with the team picking potatoes. As the day wore on he found it easier to move forward on his knees rather than stooped double. His stomach began to ache. He glanced around desperately. A guard stopped behind him.

"Admiring the view boy? he asked swinging the cattle prod menacingly close to his bare bottom.

"Please Sir I need to go to the toilet Sir."

"Then go boy"

"But Sir it's 3;"

"Just go and be quick or you'll get this up your arse."

The boy squatted straining on the ground in the open field. After a minute or two the guard lost patience and touched the lad with the cattle prod. Nicky yelped and began to scrabble with his hands in the earth once again.

Day after day Nicky laboured with the other boys in the field. There was nothing to hope for nothing to look forward to. Some time in the future Matthew would return and he would be taken up to the house for the man to enjoy but that was a matter of terror for him. The unremitting toil in the field was preferable to being that cruel man's play thing.

On the fifth day he had a sore throat. On the sixth he began to cough. The cough got worse and on the seventh it was as much as he could do to keep up with the other boys although the guards did their best to help him to do so with frequent cuts of the lash. His chest ached and each time he coughed the pain tore through his lungs. He managed only one mouthful of stew that evening before dragging himself wearily off to the side of the field. He slept little that night.

He had learnt to be ready to get to his feet as soon as his shackles were removed. That way he had a good chance of avoiding a painful kicking. He tried hard that morning. He got to his hands and knees but no further. The guard's boot thudded into his rib cage lifting him bodily from the ground and sending him crashing on to his side. He tried again his hands scrabbling desperately at the damp earth. His strength had gone. The man kicked him again.

"Bring the prod over here," he shouted. "This brat has decided to take a holiday."

Everything seemed to be happening very slowly and a long way off. Even his screams seemed to Nicky to come from a great distance away. Down a dark funnel he could see his own naked body huddled on the ground, the two guards standing over him wielding the cattle prod. He was sucked into a great vortex of pain and blackness. Consciousness came and went and then total darkens.

It was cold, very cold. This surprised him. He always understood it would be very hot but it wasn't. Cold and pain was what he felt. It wasn't fair he thought. He had not always been a good boy. There was the occasion he had altered his marks on his school report and there were other things he had done and things that he had enjoyed which he should not have but he felt he had suffered enough to pay for all that and more. What was the point of being dead if the pain continued? And there was this voice calling his name. Then he realised that it was his name that was being called; not "boy" or "brat" or anything else like that but "Nicky" and it was a familiar voice. One that he had never expected to hear again. He opened his eyes and looked up into Adam's worried young face.

A man wearing uniform moved Adam gently to one side. Nicky was lifted onto a stretcher, a blanket spread over him. Looking round he could see boy's sitting or lying on the ground blankets over their bare shoulders and men in uniform and flashing blue lights.

"We'd better get this one in the ambulance quick," one of the men said and then to Adam, "come along and keep him company if you want." Adam came.

Angela Thomas was chatting to her father and mother. Nicky had been discharged from hospital that day. Upstairs he and Adam slept in her brothers old bedroom. What was to be done with the two boys still had to be determined but they had been given temporary refuge in her parents home. She hoped that temporary might become permanent. Her own brothers had all but left home both of them being away at university. Her parents were lost with out children about them. The boys desperately needed stability and security. That however was for the future.

"It took longer than we wanted but it wasn't easy to get any sort of action and with the local police involved in the villainy we had to keep them out of the picture."

"And I suppose there were political difficulties with that Minister being involved," her mother said with unusual cynicism.

"Well no quite the reverse actually. We were reporting direct to the Home Secretary and as soon as our surveillance team reported Matthew Ellis was involved there was no holding him. Apparently he had been trying to muscle in on him. You know as some one said in politics while your opponents are in the other party your enemies are in your own."

Later that night Adam was woken by the sound of Nicky crying.

"You all right Nicky?" he asked anxiously

"I just dreamt I was back there," Nicky sobbed.

Adam tiptoed over to the other boy' bed and slipped into it beside him.

"We'll stay together now what ever happens Nicky," he whispered putting his arms around the other boy.

"Yes we will. Mind you there were some funny things, quite nice things really I had to do there sometimes," Nicky remarked.

His old teddy bear fell unnoticed onto the floor.

The End