PZA: Hartswood Priory - Teddy's Story

I was happy when I was a toddler, though I was extremely shy, almost frightened of other people. I was an only child and Mum was the only person I spent any length of time with. While I had a father too, I never saw much of him; he was a bank manager and spent most of his time either at the bank or in his study at home. I only ever saw him at dinner when he'd moan about something or the other he read in the newspaper; usually it would be the economy or how the country was run.

That the newspapers kept my father occupied through dinner time was fine by me; at least then he wouldn't moan about my table manners. I might only have been four years old at the time, but my young age didn't stop him from demanding that I'd hold my fork properly and not make the slightest sound when I tried to carve out whatever was on my plate.

"Oh, what am I to do when you go to school?" My mum asked me one day just before Christmas. We were baking cookies; it seemed like a whole pile of them, enough to feed the entire street where my house was.

"What's school?" I asked and quickly stuffed a small piece of the raw cookie dough into my mouth hoping I'd get away with it.

"Teddy! Stop eating the dough, the baking soda will make it expand in your stomach and we won't have any cookies if you eat them all before I can even get them in the oven."

"Sorry Mum," I said and tried to make it sound convincing. I was only feeling sorry for having been discovered. "What's school?" I asked again.

"School is where every little boy and girl go to learn to read and write, and lots of other exciting things. There will be nice teachers and lots of children for you to make friends with," she explained in the gentle voice I loved hearing so much more than the scolding one she had just used.

I eyed the large bowl and wondered if I could somehow manage to eat more of the sugary sweet and delicious dough in it, but one quick glance at Mum told me it likely wouldn't be such a good idea.

"Friends?" I asked, this was yet another concept I didn't know anything of and since I couldn't eat more of the dough I pushed my hand into the front of the shorts I wore instead. I had discovered my penis was a wondrous part of my body; if I touched it just right for a couple of minutes, it would eventually tickle and feel all sorts of nice.

"Yes. Friends are other children you play games with. You'll have so much fun in school," she promised.

"When does school start?" I asked. By age four I was ready to broaden my horizon; to experience the great wonders of the world that started just beyond our well-kept garden. A world that I thus far had never been allowed to explore without Mum firmly holding my hand. "Will you come with me?" I added while I explored my expanding penis.

"I'll walk you to school in the mornings and I'll be waiting for you when it lets out," Mum explained and turned her attention from the tasty dough, she was forming into cookies, to me. Her voice changed, "Stop touching yourself like that. It's very rude and only filthy boys do that," she scolded.

"When does it start?" I asked as I reluctantly pulled my hand back out of my shorts; it had only just started to feel nice when Mum told me to stop. "Can I go tomorrow?"

Mum's scolding words kept me from playing with my penis, but only made me placid for a time; on the morning of the third day, I asked if this was the day I'd finally go to school. It sounded to me like it was the best place in the entire world.

"I don't like girls!" I stated firmly. "I want to play with other boys and learn to read. You wouldn't have to read to me then."

"Well, you won't be going to school today, Teddy. We can practise for when it does start and read together if you want to?"

From then on, Mum spent two hours every morning reading with me; she'd point out the words on the page as she read them aloud and my mind quickly processed the combined inputs from my eyes and ears. Three months later, I was too impatient for Mum reading the words to me, instead I read them to her. With her correcting my mistakes I was soon able to read books written for children all on my own.

I still had to be reminded not to fiddle with my penis, but eventually I lost interest in that and instead asked Mum from time to time if a particular morning were to be the morning of all mornings; the beginning of the day when I'd start school. And again she'd tell me it wasn't and thus crush my hopes of an exciting new era of my life to start.

And I did, I read book after book; we went to the library every Saturday morning and I picked out new books to read during the week.

Until one Thursday morning when I ran out of books to read. I tried to read the first one again, but even at that tender age I had a mind like a dried-up sponge and I had a photographic memory. Since I knew not only how the book ended, I could also remember everything that led up to it, the book was no longer interesting to me. Neither of the three books had been very interesting in the first place and I wanted to go return them and take out new ones.

"I can't take you to the library today," Mum told me. "I have so much washing to do. We'll go on Saturday, like we always do."

"You will do no such thing, young man! You can either read the books you have or you can go to your room and play with your toys."

I moped around the house; the few toys I owned held no real interest any longer.

I want to read! I desperately told myself and in precisely that instant, I happened to be looking at one of the bookcases in the sitting room. I'd never paid them much mind before, up until then they had just seemed part of the walls to me. There were books in them, hundreds of books, though nothing at all like the books I was used to by then; the books in the bookcases were not the same lively coloured thin booklets written for children, these were thick novels for adults.

The books in my parents' vast collection were heavy and most of them only had a boring dark brown cover with the title and the author's name written on the spine. There were no pictures or any other indicators as to whether any one of them would be worth the time and effort required of me reading it.

My young mind felt at the starvation point for new inputs and finally I picked a book by random, sat on the floor next to the bookcase and opened the book to page one. The first thing I noted was the letters were far smaller than those in the children's books I were used to; the second thing was the words were much longer and difficult to decode. Finally, that this book was so much more interesting to read than what I'd read before.

It was lunch time before I stopped reading, if not for Mum demanding I'd eat lunch with her, I would've kept on reading for much longer; as soon as I had finished stuffing food into my mouth, I was right back at it again.

I can't recollect exactly which adult novel it was that I started reading, but it certainly was an eye opener. When Saturday came along, Mum took me to the library to exchange the three children's books I had read. We left the library emptyhanded; I still hadn't read but a fifth of the much more exciting and difficult to read adult novel I'd started reading.

I asked for Mum to explain the meaning of a word every now and then, but mostly I tried to work out their meaning on my own. Often times, I could figure it out by the context alone. It vastly extended my already large vocabulary to the point where I no longer spoke like a young child.

The morning when I was to go to school for the very first time finally arrived. I had very much been looking forward to it; the prospect of making friends and playing with them, and learning interesting new things was most exciting and quite surpassed the scary thought of no longer having Mum's skirt to hide behind. She left me with a small kiss to my cheek and a promise that she'd be waiting for me by the end of the school day.

My new junior school was a small one; even so, the place seemed overcrowded by kids and teachers, all of them unknown to me. The younger children, those my age and a couple of years older, ran around shouting out happily; their childish behaviour caught me by surprise. I still wanted to join in and play with them; it looked quite interesting and a whole lot of fun, yet I didn't know any of them and my shyness kept me at bay.

Just as I was trying to come up with a way to approach one group of kids to hear if I could join them, I heard a loud ear-piercing sound from a long whistle-blow that made everyone stop right where they were.

That's me! I thought. I'm in reception class. I hurried, dragging my new schoolbag along with me to where she was, along with several other kids my age, boys and rotten girls alike. A few minutes of chaos followed while we, the youngest kids, were divided into two classes.

The teacher for my class made us get into two columns and led us to our classroom. The school bell rang just as we were seated according to our names. I sat smack in the middle of the classroom, three desks down from the raised desk of the teacher. There was a line of desks on both sides of mine, and three more rows of desks behind me.

Immediately I noticed the wooden chair I sat on was rather wobbly and quite uncomfortable, and it made me wonder for just how long I was supposed to be sat there at the desk.

I hope it won't be for any longer than five minutes. It can't be any more than that, Mum told me it would be fun going to school. The thought comforted me. Mum has never told a lie to me in all of my life.

School wasn't at all fun I learnt when the lady teacher started laying down the laws of the vile place. While in class we were only allowed to speak if spoken to by the teacher. While seated, we were to sit quietly, facing the blackboard on the wall behind the teacher's desk. We weren't allowed to leave our seat for any reason, unless we asked for permission first. Permission would only be given if and when we had to use the toilet.

"However, I expect for you to use the toilet during recess in between classes," she told us and further restricted the freedom I had come to expect and hope for ever since Mum told me she wouldn't be at the school with me.

The teacher droned on and on for another forty five minutes before the bell finally went off again, indicating the end of my first ever class.

"You now have fifteen minutes of recess until the next class. You'll all walk quietly and orderly outside to the playground and when the bell rings, you'll all be back in your seats ready for your first proper class."

I went outside with the other kids from my class and what seemed like every kid in school, and tried to think of what I felt like doing for almost fifteen minutes. Mostly I longed to go back home to my comfortable bed where I could lie on my front and read my book.

That's so much better than this, I thought. But leaving the school premises unaccompanied by a teacher or another grownup was strictly against the many rules and regulations. And Mum told me she'll pick me up…

"Hey! I finded a ball, who wanta play footy?" I heard one of my new classmates shriek.

A lot of boys seemed interested in playing with him; most everyone in my class and some from the other reception class too. I on the other hand lingered back, I kind of wanted to play too, but I didn't know how to play football [soccer] or another other sports for that matter; Mum just wasn't interested in games that involved running or any physical activity and she had up until then been my sole playmate. I felt seriously out of place and walked to sit on a bench shaded from the sun by a tall oak tree.

"Aw, man!" I soon heard the frustrated outcry from one of the boys wanting to play footy.

"We're eight to each team now. If you wanta play too, you hafta find one more. The teams gotta be same size, my daddy says so," informed the kid who had found the ball as if everything his father said was some kind of inflexible rule; maybe it was true, I didn't know the rules of the game.

Pretty soon, the unlucky kid who hadn't been allowed in on either of the teams came right over to me.

"My name's Teddy Larsen," I said and held out my hand so that we could shake hands like Dad had taught me was the proper and only way to greet people that I didn't know well.

"Uh, yeah," Daniel said as he glanced at my hand but made no move to shake it. "D'you wanna play footy? I canna play if I don't find one more."

"I don't know how to play," I said shrugging my shoulders pitifully and let my hand fall down to rest on my knee.

"'s okay, 'tis easy!" Daniel exclaimed brightly and dragged me by the hand onto the pitch. "I founded one who'll play. He's Teddy and he dunno how to play footy."

For some reason the other kids on the field thought my name was funny; it was either that or my not knowing how to play that prompted them to laugh.

Suffice to say, my first game of football wasn't a very nice experience, neither to me nor the unfortunate boys on my team. I quickly gathered that only the goalies could use their hands, everyone else had to use their feet to kick the ball around the field. The objective was to get the ball into the goal, but no one cared to tell me that it was rather important which one of the two goals it went into.

The very first time the ball came my way, I ran the few paces to get to it and kicked it as hard as I could towards the nearest goal.

YES! I cheered loudly though silently, when my foot actually connected with the ball and sent it about 15 feet [c. 4.6m] in the general direction I had intended for it to go. The amount of energy I put into the kick should have sent it flying directly into the goal only my technique was anything but perfected and my actions made me fall backwards to sit on my bum.

"Nooo! What did you do that for?" One of my teammates cried out and started running for the ball.

The still lose ball was intercepted by Daniel who ran with it like he was born for this exact purpose and sent it flying into the goal past our goalkeeper; the boy was caught completely unprepared as our team had held possession of the ball until I kicked it back towards our goal.

"That don't count, Daniel!" the teammate of mine who had been unable to get to the ball in time shouted.

"It does too, Phillip!" Daniel yelled as he trotted back to his side of the pitch. "Thanks, Teddy. Great pass there," he told me as he passed me. I could clearly hear the mockery in his voice.

"Teddy bear is a WEIRDO!" One of the kids on my team scornfully called out as the ball was kicked back into play.

When the bell rang, I was more than happy to be seated back on the wobbly, uncomfortable chair.

I soon learnt it wasn't just football I hated. Any kind of game that involved moving any of my limbs in an organised fashion was a struggle for me and a cause for mockery from the other kids who seemingly had no problems whatsoever. Instead of demanding my body to do things it clearly wasn't capable of, I refused to participate in the physical activities taking place outside during recess; I sat in the shade of the oak tree on the bench and read whichever novel it was I had brought from home, while the other kids had their fun.

This worked well, no-one ever bothered me unless they came to retrieve a stray ball that had come my way. They soon discovered they'd have to get it themselves as I wasn't going to make a fool of myself by attempting to throw or kick it back to them. I wasn't spared from hearing the dreaded name that had soon replaced my proper first name; I was now known as 'Weirdo' or 'teddy bear', and not Teddy.

Of course there were times where I couldn't just sit and read while the other kids were at play; in games and gym classes I was forced to stand and wait to be picked out for one of the teams like everyone else. No-one ever wanted me on their team and I was always the last one to be picked, but that was just fine by me. I never wanted to be in the games classes in the first place and refused to do anything but stand as close to the side of the pitch as I could without actually leaving it.

If and when the ball came my way, I refused to do anything with it; I'd simply watch it to make sure I wouldn't be hit by it and move out of the way when I thought that would happen. My actions, or the lack of them, caused a level of exasperation amongst the group of boys who were so unfortunate to have me on their team, but the games teacher always intervened before things could escalate. Still, the intervention didn't make any difference.

"I'm not going to play!" I said angrily and held my ground. As far as I was concerned that was the end to the matter.

Fortunately for me, the games teacher never did anything to push me into participating.

Contrary to Mum's promise, school wasn't at all a fun place to be. I only ever went because she insisted I should and took me there every morning. I never liked school, I hated it, almost more than I hated physical games. Though I could read better than anyone else in junior school, not just in reception class but all the way to my sixth and final year there, I struggled with most everything else.

Science, biology and history were the only subjects I kind of liked and was able to somewhat keep up with the other kids in my class. English classes were an absolute nightmare to me; I never learned how to write properly and my handwriting was so poor I almost couldn't read it myself. My hand cramped every time I held a pencil in my fingers for more than a few minutes at a time prompting me to write as little as possible. Mostly the sentences I wrote weren't sentences at all, just a couple of misspelled words.

My teachers couldn't tell heads from tails of what I wrote and when they asked me to explain what I had written, I'd panic; the sentences formed easily in my mind, but whenever I was forced to speak in class the words came out rushed and often in the wrong order causing some of the other kids to giggle or downright laugh at me. This didn't make things any easier and I often just shook my head refusing to say anything to defend my poor handwriting.

Arithmetic, even in the simplest form, was something beyond my skills too. I just couldn't be bothered with learning it, fully believing I'd soon enough have a personal computer to do that kind of menial nonsense labour. I had found particular joy in reading the science fiction novel '2001: A space Odyssey' [by Arthur C. Clarke] and though real computers in the late 1960s were about as limited as they were large and expensive, I dreamt of having a computer like HAL 9000 of my own. Besides, my dad had a mechanical calculator, which I often used without his knowledge.

My struggles in school only became evident by the end of year two when one day the teachers told us we'd be given a small test. Suffice to say I was so far behind my classmates that bringing me up to the required standard would have required a far greater commitment than any of my teachers seemed willing to make.

"I regret," my dad started reading aloud the letter I had brought home from school, his tone of voice getting ever angrier, "to inform you that your son Teddy is a most unwilling and lazy student. The results of our in-school end of year two exams shows he has learned less than twenty percent of what should be expected. Mr Gregory informs me that Teddy refuses to participate in any of the physical activities and often disrupts class discipline in gym classes.

"Your son's sole interest seems to be reading science-fiction novels rather than learning what he is supposed to…" My dad looked up from the dreaded letter I knew would only go on to list more of my shortcomings, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

I couldn't think of an answer in the amount of time he gave me before his verdict came.

"From this day onward you will not receive even a halfpenny in pocket money until your schoolwork improves."

I left the study before he had a chance to change his mind. I'd gotten off easier than I expected, the pocket money I received from my father every Saturday morning was only enough to buy one small bag of sweets; the thought of never again seeing any pocket money from my dad couldn't upset me.

By the age of eight I had taught myself a quite valuable skill; I knew how to dismantle almost any item of electrical or mechanical equipment. While this might not sound like such a great skill, as many a young boy takes great pleasure in taking things to pieces, I could put them back together; 99% of the time, the item would work when I tested it afterwards. If I wasn't busy reading a book, I could be found rummaging through rubbish bins in search of discarded items that I'd mend and sell for more money than I was ever given by my father.

Thus my being a bright and intelligent boy performing well below my real capabilities was allowed to continue. And it did, throughout my years in primary school. It was generally considered to be a good school, discipline in classes was strong and the children were happy; most of them performed well up expectations, so the fact that I didn't and was far from happy was of little concern.

"Nobody can win them all," my head teacher confided collegially to Mum when she asked him about my lacking academic skills and apparently she believed him as nothing was ever done.

Chapter 2
The worm grows

"Why must you always do that?" I accusingly asked under my breath one day in the morning recess. It was in the middle of May, just a couple of months prior to me leaving junior school for good; I was eleven years old at the time and as always, whenever the weather was nice, I was perched on the bench in the shade from the sun.

I received no verbal response to my question, though I would've thought it no less strange than what was happening in the front of my already quite tight trousers. My penis, which up until quite recently had always been a rather short piece of generally flaccid flesh made up mostly by its floppy and pointy foreskin, now seemed intent on doing everything in its power to escape from the tight confinements of my underpants.

The only response to my worries was an ever increasing feeling of soreness as the monster in my underpants grew firmer and larger. When it finally stopped, it throbbed most painfully while it pushed out the front of my trousers as if someone had pitched a tent in them; it was only made so much more obvious by the fact that I had almost outgrown them. My dad thought it a waste of money to buy new trousers for my school uniform as I was about to leave junior school and would likely need a different pair of trousers for high school.

When I hurriedly made my way back to the classroom I held the book in front of me as if it were a shield; it must've looked all kinds of strange, but it concealed the large throbbing mass from being spotted by anyone. I flopped onto my chair and carefully slid the novel into my schoolbag sitting next to my desk; the book was no longer needed as I sat so close to the desk it cut into my stomach.

What's wrong with me? It's never been this way before. Not until three months ago, I thought as I reflexively touched the still throbbing hardness in front of my school trousers. Hey, this feels sort of nice.

"Don't touch yourself like that! It's only filthy boys who do that!" I suddenly heard Mum's scolding voice reverb in my mind and I guiltily moved my fingers away as if they had been burned by fire.

Mum had told me more than a couple of times to stop touching my small penis when I was around four years old and first discovered that it felt somewhat nice to fiddle with. I'd do it while I was sat in the bath and it was readily available or whenever I felt like it. Eventually I heeded her words and only ever touched my penis from then on when I had to pee or quickly wash it.

Well, up until that time when I sat in the middle of the classroom and fiddled with what had once been my little penis; it was no longer little. While my body had grown some, the monster that was once my little penis had rapidly grown, and quite a lot too.

Do I tell Mum so she can take me to see the doctor? The mere thought embarrassed me. No! I can not do that. How am I to tell her that it feels good to be touching it when she told me it's rude and I shouldn't be doing that?

I thought of maybe somehow asking Dad, but discarded this idea too. There had never been any discussions of private parts as far as I could remember.

There's only one way to figure out what this is all about, I decided; I'd look for the answer in books.

Before I did that, I investigated my private parts when I returned from school; I was all alone in the house and it was quite safe for me to do so. My penis wasn't the only thing that had grown; my testicles had grown too. Somehow I had failed to notice that at first, but now it only motivated me to find an answer to my growing list of questions regarding my private parts.

What if they won't ever stop growing? If they keep growing at this rate, soon I won't be able to wear any of my underpants.

It doesn't feel so bad now. It makes me feel like I'm… Like I'm more alive than ever before. But why? What is this strange phenomenon?

I remembered the title of one fiction novel where more or less obvious descriptions of love-making were described; they mentioned the stiffening and lengthening of the man's penis just before he pushed it into the woman. I quickly located the book in question and leafed through the pages until I found the right one.

"'Ooh', Mathilda cried out when she felt the ramrod stiff erection of Julio near her opening. 'Make haste, I need it so much.'" I read aloud in a soft unemotional voice. "'Take me like you are a mighty stallion and I'm nothing but a mare in heat.' She dropped to lay on her shoulders and reached to spread open her buttocks…'"

"What?" I questioned the words I had just read. Nah, that can't be right. No-one would ever want to do that. That's bloody disgusting!

I read on in silence and the next passages in the book had Julio push his pillar of blood-engorged flesh into Mathilda's dripping wet vagina; even the supposed sounds were mentioned in the book and I felt strangely captivated by what I read. It also made me feel extremely revolted with my penis when I noticed it had grown rock hard again from the words in the strange book.

Clearly this can't be right. No-one in their right state of mind would be interested in doing something like that. It's just someone's imagination, their strange and bizarre dreams. No, I need a proper book, one that isn't fiction.

I spent a long time scanning each and every title of the books my parents owned, but the only non-fiction books I could find in the house were about cooking, knitting, economy and banking; topics so boring to me I'd only ever once tried to read any of the books about it.

The upcoming Saturday I went to the library; I figured if I'd ever find a non-fiction book about erections, this had to be the place. I didn't dare ask the librarians for guidance to books on the topic and it took me almost an hour and a half before I finally sat at the rearmost reading table in the children's section of the library with a book about human growth I had found sitting on a shelf in the adult section.

I quickly engrossed myself, this wasn't someone's dirty dream; the book told me quite clearly that what I was experiencing was nothing but to be expected. The strange phenomenon even had a name: 'Puberty'. Though I'd started puberty a bit early according to the book, it wasn't anything to be afraid of.

So it's only hormones that makes my penis stiff all the time, I thought and felt relieved. There was no need to see a doctor, no need for me to have an embarrassing talk with my parents.

What does one do when his penis is erect? I went on with the next question on my mental list and searched for the answer to that.

"Hi! What you reading?" I heard a loud high-pitched voice ask right next to me before I had time to find the answer to what I should do when my penis was all stiff and throbbing; which it by the way was right there and then.

I must've blushed a deep red while trying to come up with a response when I was rescued by the boy's mother.

"Tommy! Haven't I told you not to run off on your own? You mustn't disturb the people reading," she said in a high whisper.

"Sorry, I hope he didn't startle you too much, you know what children are like at his age," she addressed me when she had securely latched her fingers around Tommy's wrist. She held another toddler, presumably Tommy's sister in her other hand.

I shook my head and watched the group as they walked to sit at another table. Fortunately the boy, Tommy, was too young to realise what I'd been reading, still I found it much too daring to be reading a book which not only explained about puberty, it also had explicit pictures that could be deemed as inappropriate for someone my age.

I can't sit and read with my penis trying to rip a hole in my jeans when others are so near. I'll have to come back later to continue my read, I decided and returned the book to where I had found it; I didn't dare take out the book and bring it home with me. I'd have to hand it over to one of the librarians then and she'd only comment on my choice of book like they always do.

I made sure to note where I left the book so that it wouldn't take me as long to find it again the next time I could go to the library.

I was back at the library by the next morning before it opened to the public. As soon as the doors were unlocked, I hurried to the shelf where I had placed the book. I was the only visitor this early in the morning, and I hoped for it to remain that way for a good while so I could have a long read. I'd only just gotten started on chapter three of twenty two before I was disturbed by Tommy the previous morning.

"Where did it go?" I asked myself when I stood in front of the shelf. The book wasn't where I had put it the previous day. In its place was another book and this one wasn't anything to do with puberty.

Unless flowers go through puberty too, I thought wryly and double-checked that I was at the right shelf. I went home after two hours of fruitlessly searching for the sole book that I knew held the answers to the questions I had. The many other books in the library held no interest to me at all; all I wanted to read was the very book that had gone missing.

Maybe someone took it out and it'll be returned soon? I asked myself wistfully, but immediately I killed that idea. If it was taken out, there would be a card saying so in its place. There was no card so someone must've stolen it!

I felt as if it was me personally who had been robbed, that someone had stolen my book. Worse yet, without the book I had no quick answers to my problem at hand.

Am I the only boy in school who gets erections? I wondered more than once. After the thought first crossed my mind I couldn't let go of it; it haunted me and I had to find out. I can't explain why I was suddenly so interested in such a private matter, I just was and I tried to come up with ways to see another boy's penis up close.

There was no time when we'd get fully naked in school, a fact I up until then had been very happy for as it meant no-one would be able to see the size of my private parts. Now, it meant I couldn't see the other boys' private parts. We never got fully changed in games and gym classes; there was no time for showering after class as fortunately they only lasted for forty five minutes at a time.

"Well, I don't have to see anyone naked, I only want to see his penis," I reminded myself and that was when I got a brilliant idea; it was so simple I kicked myself for not having thought of it sooner.

Every recess from that day onwards I made it my duty to stand at the urinal in the boys' toilets instead of going into a stall for a pee as I had done until then. I soon prolonged the amount of time I spent standing at the urinal; even though I tried to pee as slowly as I could, my bladder always ran dry before I'd had enough of watching other boys peeing. The boys ranged in age from six to eleven as the toilets were shared by all the boys in school from year two up to year six; all of the boys had one thing in common though, their private parts were smaller than mine.

Well, those I can see, anyway, I told myself as I peeked next to me and tried to see what the little boy was shielding from my eyes; all I could really see was the strong stream of his pale-yellow pee shooting out from behind his hand. Even the sight of that stimulated me and I felt my penis starting to firm up. I gave it one last shake and put it away. I'm already the school weirdo, I don't want to be known as the school pervert too.

While I didn't want anyone to think of me as a pervert, I still hung about the toilets every chance I had; I saw more than my fair share of boys stepping up to the urinal and whipping out their little sprayers before quickly getting everything back in place and scampering back outside to the other kids. Still, I never once saw a boy with an erection and even when flaccid my penis was bigger than boys who were taller than me.

Clearly I'm way ahead of the other kids in school, at least on this matter, I smugly told myself as yet another boy came up to stand next to me. He too was only interested in peeing as quickly as he could so that he could leave the rancid smelling toilets behind. I checked him out like I usually would, but as everyone else he never even glanced at my semi-hard penis before he was gone again.

The lack of reaction to my voyeuristic activities was killing me. I wanted to do stuff with someone like me, though I hadn't the faintest idea as to what it was I wanted; I only ever pinched my penis between two fingers, sometimes carefully other times much harder. I'd do this while lying in bed after lights out but even if this felt nice, it wasn't what I wanted most of all. I wanted to do it with someone else; to touch and pinch his penis while he did the same to mine.

Something like that would feel fantastic, I just know it would, I told myself and shuddered when the fantasy and the pinching of my penis felt particularly nice. I let go of my penis, afraid that I would wet the bed if I carried on and went for a pee. I couldn't squeeze out even a single drop of pee, but my penis softened and remained in that state when I got back under the covers.

I kept checking out the boys in the toilets as often as I thought I could get away with it, but it wasn't long until the summer holidays arrived and abruptly put an end to what had quickly become my favourite pastime. The holidays compensated for it somewhat, no longer was I forced to spend time at a place I hated with a passion; instead I could spend as much time as I wanted while reading books at home and I could go to the woods close to where I lived.

In the woods there were no-one to see me, no Mum to tell me how I shouldn't be playing with my penis and I'd pull down my jeans and underpants to my knees and play with it; savouring the wonderful tingling sensations from the activity for as long as I could stand it.

The solitude meant freedom to me, but it wasn't what I really wanted, not by a far cry. I wanted another boy to be with me so that we'd play with each other, maybe one of my classmates, like Phillip or Daniel who were both very good looking. They both had smaller penises than mine, but I thought playing with even a small penis would still be better than simply playing with my own.

Daniels penis and testicles were still those of a very small boy, even so I wouldn't have minded playing with him. I figured even his small penis could get hard and the feelings would be mostly the same as the ones I experienced. Phillip had a much bigger penis than Daniel, close to the size of mine when soft; I tried to visualize what his would look like when hard, if it would be as big as mine. I dreamed of pinching their stiff stalks as they'd do the same to mine; it could only be so much better with either one of them.

Though I could give you all the details of what Daniel's and Phillip's private parts looked like, I didn't know them very well. Both of them did well in class; I didn't, so I'd never had much to do with them. In fact, like all the other kids they mostly ignored me, unless Daniel threatened me with dire consequences if I didn't start pulling my weight in the team play during games classes.

I knew where Phillip lived, it wasn't far from my own house; I could easily have gone round to see him and try to make friends with him. He was quiet and studious, not at all unpleasant, but I was just too shy. Even if I somehow managed to make friends with Phillip, it probably wouldn't do me any good. How was I to raise the subject of wanting to play with his penis? He had never shown the slightest interest when I'd watch him pee into the urinal.

And if Phillip were to tell his parents about my wanting to play naughty games with him, then there'd be real trouble. No, it is a stupid idea, I sadly concluded and rejected it.

All too quickly September arrived. I dreaded the new term, it being my first at high school. I had hated primary school but at least I'd felt safe there. The primary school I went to was quite small; the high school was anything but. I shuddered when I read the pamphlet posted to my parents from my new school, the sheer number of students was frightening, there would be more than twelve hundred of them at the high school.

Even with my arithmetic struggles, I managed to figure out that was nearly five times as many students than there were at the junior school I had attended. The classes would be larger too, almost by a third; we had been twenty students in my class in junior school, in high school there'd be around thirty.

Since the numbers of students per year would be greater, we'd be divided into classes based on how well we had done at the entry exams. I hadn't done well at all; I'd failed most of the tests and found myself placed in the rock-bottom group for most classes. The only exception to the rule was science, but even if it was my favourite subject I wasn't placed in the top class for it, only the second worse class out of four.

I sensed things would be much tougher in high school than they had ever been in junior school and I was not wrong; over the first few weeks all of my fears were confirmed; high school was a living nightmare to me. Most of the kids in my classes didn't seem overly interested in school or learning of any sort. Some were troublemakers, always causing distractions and being generally disruptive in class; the teachers spent more time putting them to order than teaching us what we were supposed to learn.

There were even a few openly aggressive kids, boys and girls alike. I doubt my life could have gotten any worse; I felt like I walked into a minefield every morning when I entered through the iron-wrought gate to the school grounds.

Darren Brooks was the oldest kid in first year; for some unknown reason he had been held back a year and obviously he wasn't very pleased with having to spend another year in the school system. He was six months older than me and I had turned twelve two weeks after the start of term; still he wasn't a big lad, about an inch [c. 2.5cm] shorter than me and almost as slim but he knew how to fight, at least he wasn't afraid of fighting like I was.

Darren was a boxer, though I can't say if he was a good one, he always bore evidence from the fights in the ring; his knuckles were bruised and often one or both of his eyes were blackened. One time I saw him wearing a bandage over his left eyebrow and heard him loudly boasting to his friends about how it had needed to be stitched after a match.

As soon as Darren learned how timid I was, he wasted no opportunity trying to scare the crap out of me.

"Think you're better than us, don't ya?" He asked me and bared his crooked front teeth in a sneer. "Well, you fuckin' ain't, you weirdo!"

He had several friends in class and where he led they followed. I did my best to ignore all of them, regardless of what Darren threatened to do to me, they mostly kept it to words alone. They'd barge into me in the corridors, at times kicking my shins as they passed me, but most of their torment was verbal; still it hurt me much the same as I thought any physical violence would have.

At the start of the term I not only thought I was better than Darren and all of his loser friends, I knew I was; however being told otherwise several times a day slowly chipped away at what little self-confidence I started out with. Their torment made me even more timid and afraid of my own shadow while I was in school, but I started paying more attention to the teachers; I didn't want to end up a loser like Darren and his friends. They soon noticed this and did whatever they could to make sure I'd never learn anything.

Every time I asked the teacher for help with an assignment, two or more of the gang would stir some kind of commotion turning the teacher's attention to them rather than me. Soon it became much too clear to me that spending any length of time in class with those kids would seriously halt any progress I was hoping to make.

To make matters worse for me, my favourite pastime in recess was disrupted by the gang; they claimed the first year boys' toilets as their territory and demanded payment from anyone wanting to use them. They smoked nasty smelling cigarettes in there, making the already rank smelling room an even more dreadful place to be. I went back to reading books; I found a large tree I could sit and lean up against while I read and dreamt of being in a faraway place. While Darren was in the toilets, the rest of the kids left me alone.

When it was time for games and gym classes, I was grouped with the other boys in tutor groups 1-T and 1-S. This combined group contained a pretty fair cross-section of around 40 boys, including some I would have loved getting to learn better, if only I hadn't been so terribly shy and insecure of myself. Two of Darren's mates were in the group, but without their leader to direct them, they left me alone.

Unfortunately it wasn't the end to my problems. The tactic I'd used fairly successfully in junior school, where I'd simply ignore the ball whenever it came my way, landed me in trouble in the very first games class. Mr. Jenkins, the games teacher, promptly gave me a detention and sent me outside to run laps around the large playing field for the rest of class.

Truth be told, I walked more than I ran during the half an hour but it was still a lot more exercising than I had gotten used to during games classes. It taught me Mr. Jenkins definitely wasn't somebody who I could mess with.

There are other boys in the group who're almost as useless as me. I'll have to learn how to go through the motions like they do and right quickly too, I thought as I trotted around the field. While the trot wasn't so bad, the detention was far more troublesome. I had never gotten one before and I worried what my parents would think and do to me now.

I only joined the other boys by the very end of class; we had ten minutes to get out of our games kit, showered and towelled, before putting our uniforms on. There was no way for anyone to shy out from showering with the rest, Mr. Jenkins was with us in the locker room all the time and he made sure every last one of us showered.

As I undressed and showered I had plenty of opportunities to check out the other boys without being too secretive about it; lest I kept my eyes firmly shut for the entire time, I'd have no chance of not seeing lots of boys in all of their naked glory. My eyes darted from one boy to another, more specifically from one groin to the next, while scanning for signs of the owner having started puberty like myself.

My penis was still the biggest by some margin but I still enjoyed the show. Unlike the shy boys in junior school who shielded their private parts from my eyes while they peed, there was no way anyone could do that while washing their hair like Mr Jenkins insisted we must do. Most of my tutor group mates were still very small in the private parts department, even those who were taller and heavier than me. Very few of them were starting puberty like Danny Croft who had grown a little patch of dark hairs above his penis.

He may have hair where I don't have any yet, but his penis is still a lot smaller than mine, I thought when I managed to draw my eyes away from the enthralling sight. I'd give my right hand to be able to feel his pubic hair; to be able to tell if they were as soft as they looked. I wonder how big his penis gets when it's hard.

My frustrations continued, like all the rest of the boys in the locker room Danny didn't show any interest in me at all, and I couldn't muster the courage required to approach him and try to befriend him.

"Why can't you just do what you're being told?" Dad moaned at me when he read the standard letter about my detention, "Is that really so much to ask for? Well, I hope you've learned your lesson, young man. Don't bring home another one of these letters."

"No, sir," I promised as he signed the letter, then I left his study. Fortunately it was the only thing ever said regarding my detention.

Chapter 3
David, my hero

The first half term of high school was nearing its end. There was just one more week left of it before seven days of pure bliss awaited. Mum had somehow convinced Dad to take time off from the bank and spend money renting a small holiday home in the lush countryside of Devon. I had already put aside eight books to bring on the holiday and I dreamt of lying in the shade on my back in a sunbed doing nothing but read for the entire time away from school.

I hated high school, even more so than I had hated junior school; it just seemed so pointless to me, I wasted my time there as I wasn't learning anything. Darren and his gang made sure of that and their ever increasingly open hostility towards me was wearing me down.

"I'd give you a right good beating, if only I'd get away with it," Darren told me in the same minute I passed the gate to hell Monday morning of the last week before the holidays.

"You'd better look over your shoulder wherever you go from now on, cunt!" He sneered at me and I felt drops of his spittle hit my face. "I want you to see my foot as it comes up to kick your large balls!"

He shoved me backwards and the rest of his gang broke into a rowdy laugh as I tried not to fall on my bum; I could feel the heat on my cheeks as they blushed crimson red, making them all laugh so much more.

Someone has noticed the size of my balls! I told myself. Why else would he say that they're large?

For the rest of the week I wondered who had told Darren, as I hadn't seen anyone checking me out in the locker room after games classes, while I made sure to do exactly what he told me. I spent more time looking over my shoulder than paying attention to where I was going; if there was one thing in the world I didn't want it was being kicked in the balls. I knew something like that would have to hurt a great deal, though not exactly how badly and I wasn't in any hurry to finding out for sure.

Like usual, neither Darren nor any of his mates laid a finger on me for the rest of the half term, but I was still guarded and tried my best to steer clear of them.

The week off school was sort of a joyful time for me. My parents argued from time to time, especially when Mum wanted to buy something as a souvenir and Dad balked at the cost. I tried to pretend that I wasn't related to them but just as I thought myself in the clear, Mum reminded me in her loud voice not to stray too far.

Much too soon, the holidays came to an end and we were on our way towards Salisbury back towards the place I hated most on earth with its tormentors and bullies. I hoped for a miracle as I sat on the rear seat of the car; that the school would have burnt down or something terrible had happened to Darren Brooks or at the very least that he had moved, while I was away. But, my hopes were replaced by the cruel reality of life when I saw him awaiting me when I entered the gate.

Wednesday after school started again, we had maths as the last class of the day. Darren was even more disruptive than usual and earned himself a referral to Mr. Jones, the Head of First Year; we all knew what that meant, Darren would almost certainly find himself at the wrong end of a cane.

I took no part in the quiet "woooo" the rest of the students in class made before they were silenced by Mr. Greenway.

Sooner or later, Darren will beat me up. Being caned by Mr. Jones might just push him closer to that.

At long last the bell for end of class sounded and reflexively everyone, myself included, began to pack their schoolbags.

"The bell is a signal to me, not you!" Mr. Greenway snapped. "After the time you've wasted this afternoon you'll all carry on working till I say you can stop."

"Sir!" Darren protested. "You can't do that! I've got to get home, my mum's waiting for me."

"Then she'll just have to wait for a while longer, won't she?" Mr. Greenway retorted. Apparently he recognised it for the lie it probably was. "And when you do get home, perhaps you'd like to tell her why you're late."

Darren shut up. Even though he wasn't what I would consider clever, he knew enough to realise it was an argument he had no chances of winning. He looked over at me and bared his front teeth in a silent sneer before he pulled his exercise book back out of his schoolbag.

For the next five minutes we worked on in utter silence. I mostly stared at the words on the page; while I could read them just fine, I had no clue how to solve the problems without using a calculator.

"It's such a shame you couldn't manage that a little earlier," Mr. Greenway quietly commented, then commanded in a firmer tone of voice, "Right! Put your things away and stand behind your desks."

We all did as we were told and soon we stood awaiting the next order from the tall, powerfully built man.

We scurried to do as he said, even so the sounds from thirty two chairs being lifted, upended and placed on top of the desks were muted; no-one seemed interested in raising the maths teacher's attention to themselves.

The eight lucky students whose desks were in the line closest to the door marched out of the classroom, single file. Just as the last one was about to leave the room, the next line was ordered out. And the next, until finally my line, nearest the windows, was allowed to leave. I was the second last student to leave the classroom and I only just saw Darren and his mates running towards the exit.

They hurled a string of obscenities back in the direction of the classroom and me. Fortunately they never stopped running, only slammed wide open the two glass doors at the end of the corridor and exited them. I saw them rounding the gate just as I made it to the doors.

I gasped a breath of air; I had survived another day of high school without being beaten up by Darren or any of his friends. I wasn't in any hurry to leave the school right then, not with Darren no longer present. I'd only return to my empty house, where I'd eat my afternoon snack in the kitchen before going to my bedroom.

There, taking up a large part of my bedroom floor, lay my latest and thus far largest project; an old grandfather clock I had rescued from its dead-bed. It had been a struggle, not only to bring it home in one piece, but also up the narrow stairs to the first floor where my bedroom was; the clock was about one foot [c. 30cm] taller than me. By will and pure determination alone, I had managed to lump it up the stairs one step at a time with the clock chiming madly as in protest to the rough-handling it underwent.

The clock's innards were plentiful and I'd yet to figure out why it wouldn't run. The mending project was complicated by Dad's incisive moaning about the untidiness of my bedroom, it meant I couldn't leave all the parts laying on the floor in the manner I had carefully taken them out of the long-case. He had insisted I'd put all the parts into a box and didn't leave me enough time to mark everything.

I'll get it sorted, I always do. It's only taking much longer than I anticipated.

I almost wished I'd left the clock where I had found it, but now that I had gotten started, I wasn't about to give up before it would run and once again proudly announce every quarter of the hour.

I was about to push open the glass doors when I noticed my bladder's distressed signals of being close to overflowing. The girl behind me pushed past me and I was the only remaining student in the wing that held the first years.

Make that the only person remaining, I thought when I saw Mr. Greenway lock the door to the classroom and walk in the opposite direction towards the teacher's room. The toilets are just down the corridor. It'll be safe for me to use them now, Darren and his gang aren't there to demand any payments for using them.

I hurried back along the corridor and threw open the door to the boys' toilets. I didn't notice the boy standing at the urinal before I had covered half of the way to the long porcelain trough; I was busy digging out my penis while walking.

Never mind him now, he's standing all the way to one end of the urinal, I'll go stand at the other end. I'm about to piss on the floor! I thought and quickly stepped up to the urinal. No sooner had I gotten into position before my pee began to gush out through my foreskin and splattered against the far side of the urinal.

Ooooh, yes. That's what I've been wanting to do ever since morning recess, I nearly moaned aloud as I took great delight in watching the strong stream of pee leaving my body and easing the pain from my bladder. At long last, I shook the last drops of pee off from my foreskin and was about to tuck my penis back into my underpants when I realised the other boy was still in the room with me.

That's strange, I thought as my heart started pounding in my chest. My throat suddenly felt as dry as the sandpaper I'd used to smoothen the sides of the old grandfather clock. I never saw him enter the toilets, so obviously he's been here for some time already. But why?

Furtively I peeked to my left and my eyes widened; the boy at the other end of the urinal was clearly older than me, even older than Darren. What astounded me the most was that he had his penis out, it was hard as rock and he slowly stroked it with his fist. Before I knew it would happen, my own boyhood hardened until it stuck out of my fly as stiff as it had ever been before.

After waiting for so long for something like this to happen, it seemed as if my dream had finally come true at a time when I had least expected it to. I finally managed to move my eyes away from the rock hard object still being manipulated and divert them upwards to meet the owner's eyes.

He grinned at me in a peculiar fashion, not unfriendly and certainly not intimidating, yet I couldn't determine what he was thinking as he moved closer to me. Though he was at least three inches [c. 7.5cm] taller than me I felt quite safe even when he came right up next to me, never stopping until his arm nearly touched mine.

He looked back at my middle and craned his neck to be able to see more of my penis. Feeling quite confused, I moved my hand out of the way and allowed him a proper look.

I shrugged in response. I'd never done anything but pinch my penis between two fingers and that seemed like child's play compared to what he was still doing to his own. I didn't want to appear childish to this boy god standing next to me.

I hesitated for only the briefest of moments. Mum had strictly ordered me to always go straight home from school ever since she deemed me old and responsible enough to walk on my own, but she and Dad were still at work. None of them would be any the wiser as long as I'd be back at home before half past five at the latest.

He's friendly! He's the only one who's treated me like I'm a person and not something to be looked down upon or ignored. And he's good-looking too.

The boy next to me had light brown collar-length hair and the most beautiful straight, long and fat penis I had ever seen. I was desperate for a chance to explore it with my fingers; to play with his massive erection and touch his pubic hairs.

"Okay," I agreed. My voice was but a croaky whisper, yet I could hear my nervousness in the single word and I didn't say any more. To my great relief, it wasn't necessary. He pushed his penis back into his trousers and though it didn't feel very nice, I did the same with mine. I followed him out the building into the sunshine.

"What's your name?" He asked as we walked across the by now deserted playground towards the gate. I walked next to him, pleased to finally find myself walking by someone's side. I still felt the pangs of shyness and uneasiness, but I wanted this; more than anything in the world, I wanted to be with this tall, older lad whose name I didn't even know, though I'd seen him stroke his stiff penis.

"Teddy," I replied softly; I hated my name since kids always seemed to find it funny. I wondered why my parents had thought it a good idea to name me after the favourite toy of a toddler; I looked nothing at all like a bear not even a small one, scrawny and lean as I was.

"Cute name for a cute boy," he told me without the mocking or spiteful laughter I had anticipated. "I'm David. You're in first year, aren't you?"

"You've got a big cock for a first year," he commented as we walked out the gate.

"Thanks," I said shyly, then threw all caution to the wind. He thought of me as a cute boy with a big cock and those were all the compliments I needed to continue. "It suddenly just started growing four months ago. None of the other kids in my games class has got one as big as mine. Mind you, my birthday was two weeks after the start of term so I'm one of the oldest kids in first year, well, apart from Darren."

I was almost out of breath after saying that. I couldn't remember the last time I had ever said so many continuous words to anyone. I felt strangely at ease with David; I guess him allowing me a good look of his large stiff penis and hearing his compliments had emboldened me. He had called it a cock, though, not a penis.

Though he could've had plenty of other reasons for inviting me to his house, I knew we'd soon be playing with our hard penises. I didn't know how we'd go about it, but I didn't care. As long as I got to play with his and I'd feel his hand on mine, I'd be happy and willing to do most anything.

Side by side we walked the short distance to David's house. It was in the same direction as my own, only much nearer to school. We didn't talk, I was much too nervous to start a conversation and David just strode on silently. Finally, he let us in through the front door of his house.

I followed him upstairs to a large bedroom, it looked much as I would have imagined an older boy's bedroom to look like; clothes, comic books and album covers strewn all over the place. It still surprised me to see how messy it was; Dad continually moaned at me for having the disassembled grandfather clock in my room.

If only he could see David's room as it is now, maybe he wouldn't be moaning so much about mine, I thought as David went to close his curtains then turned to me.

Suddenly feeling very nervous again I began to undress while watching David as he did too. I took off my shoes and socks, then my sweater, tie and shirt. He kept up with me, removing an article of clothing at exactly the same pace. He had a nice upper body, slim but strong, with a bit of muscle definition just beginning to show.

David unzipped his trousers, undid the clip and pulled them off; I followed suit.

"Leave your pants on, I want to take them off for you," he said quietly and sat on the side of the bed.

I moved closer to him and only stopped when I stood right in front of him. I watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of my white underpants and he pulled them down to my knees. I wriggled a bit making them fall the rest of the way to the floor and kicked them off my feet. I didn't check to see where they ended up; at the time I couldn't care less if I never saw them again.

As soon as I settled down, David's fingers were all over my penis, caressing it gently. It was still hard, had never went soft after it got hard back in the toilets. I almost passed out, the tingling sensations generated by him so expertly manipulating my private part was beyond anything I'd ever experienced while playing with it myself.

I nodded; though it felt much better than merely 'good' to me, I couldn't think of any words to better describe the fantastic sensations his fingers on my penis gave me.

I swapped places with David, sitting on his bed like he had. He stood so close in front of me I had to spread my legs wide apart to make room for him. I carefully lowered his skimpy briefs and could hardly believe what I was looking at. Fully exposed and up close, his penis looked even bigger and I could see the individual hairs that made up the patch of brown pubic hair sitting proudly above it. I felt envious of David; suddenly I couldn't wait for my pubic hair to start growing too.

Slowly I ran my fingers over the shaft of David's cock; while it felt much the same as mine, it was bigger and in my eyes a lot better. I loved the way it felt, silky smooth, and so hard and hot. Gingerly I ran my fingers upwards and touched his pubic hair, it was so soft and felt so right. I allowed David to push me on my back on his bed and pulled up my feet on my own when he reached for them. He lay next to me.

"It's my lucky day," he whispered as he wrapped his long arm around my shoulder. "After school me and Paul usually have a bit of fun. We've been mates for as long as I can remember and we do everything together. But he had to go to the dentist today, so I went to the toilets, just hoping to see some nice cock. I never expected to meet anyone, certainly not someone as cute as you."

David's last words brought a smile upon my face. I had never heard anyone call me cute before he did; mostly people thought of me as an awkward, scrawny lad. Even Dad moaned about me being too timid for my own good, but bugger all he ever did to help me do something about it.

My fingers fondled David's penis almost on their own; I couldn't get over how much of a beauty it was, not just long, but so thick I could barely close my hand around it.

"Six inches, just over [c. 16 cm]," David said, grinning proudly. "What about yours?"

"Dunno," I said and shrugged. I had never thought of measuring my penis, all I knew was it was bigger than any kid my age. Not until now, when David wanted to know, had its precise size ever mattered to me.

"Let's measure it," he said and leaned over to grab a ruler from the desk next to his bed.

I felt the cold hardness from the steel ruler as it was placed up against my penis. David gently pushed the end of it against my pubic bone, it didn't hurt; on the contrary, the strange sensation made my penis even harder.

"Four and a half inches [c. 11.5 cm]," he finally declared, "very impressive for a kid your age. Mine didn't start growing till this time last year, but by the summer holidays it had turned into this monster."

David discarded the ruler by tossing it back onto the desk and once again began caressing my penis. He masturbated it with a milking action I hadn't thought of myself. It felt great! Much better than simply squeezing and pinching it with my fingertips as I had myself.

"You really like that, don't you?" He said smiling at me and when I nodded he asked me another question, "Can you cum?"

I wasn't at all sure what that meant and I guess my face must have given off the fact.

Now I knew, I had read about orgasms in novels before. It was sperm, he talked about, or semen. But I didn't know if my testicles made any yet. I'd been unable to goad anything out of my penis apart from pee.

"Dunno," I said, "I've never been able to make it do that," I admitted though it made me sound like an ignorant little kid which I was, I just didn't want David to know; I feared he wouldn't want to play with me if he knew I had never done anything like this before.

"Looks like you should be able to," he told me without mocking me. "I had my first cum last Christmas and back then my balls weren't as large as yours. Want to feel something even better than this?"

"Yeah, okay," I responded though I was quite unable to imagine what could possibly feel better than what he was doing with his fingers right then.

David scooted down the bed and settled his head on my tummy. All I could see was the back of his head, and a moment later I felt his breath on my exposed glans; then an even warmer sensation engulfed half of my penis, and I moaned out from shock.

He can't be sucking on it! I told myself. It went beyond what I thought was disgusting. But, no matter how much I tried to deny the fact, David soon had all of my penis within his warm and moist mouth.

I spread my legs apart when I felt his hand running in between my thighs, gently fondling my balls and stroking the skin just below them as he sucked on my penis and used his tongue to further enhance the feelings. It must be revolting to him, but dang it feels so nice!

I went into a state of sensory overload. David's hand and fingers on my penis had felt wonderful enough in itself, but having it sucked was in a different league completely, the intensity of the tingling sensations so much greater.

What he's doing with his fingers between my legs feels oddly nice too, I thought. But it must be so dirty down there.

One of his fingers had found my most secret opening and massaged it while he sucked on my penis.

After a couple of minutes where I was lost in my feelings, David let go of me. I was gasping for breath, had been close to telling him to stop for the past thirty seconds or so. The feelings had just been so intense, so unbelievable good I thought it was close to torture.

His question made me very nervous, but I felt like I couldn't say no to him; more importantly, I didn't want to say no. It's only fair that I'd do the same for him; to give him the same feelings he gave me. I just never thought of sucking on anyone's penis until today.

I positioned myself pretty much as he had done and held his large penis between my thumb and forefinger. Tentatively I licked over the shiny purple head. I could taste what I thought was his pee, but it didn't taste as bad as I thought it would; in fact it didn't taste of anything much.

"Put your lips over your teeth and suck it into your mouth," I heard David's advice.

I did as instructed and slid my lips over the head of his cock and pushed part way down the thick shaft, in an attempt to do as he had done to me. My mouth was filled to capacity before I managed to get all of his fat and long penis inside, but he seemed happy enough with what I did. He kept muttering encouragements to me and I began to move my head back and forth, somewhat tentatively at first.

Gradually I managed to relax; I settled into a steady rhythm as I found out how much I enjoyed the feeling of having David's big hard penis sliding into my mouth. I even managed to mostly ignore my gag reflex when it went in further than I could cope with.

"Oh yeah," he moaned, his breathing already short and uneven like mine when he had sucked on my cock. "That's fantastic, Teddy!"

When I heard the praise, I redoubled my efforts, slipped the large cock out of my mouth and quickly slobbered all over it with my tongue before I sucked it back in again.

I complied and sped up considerably; went up and down the length of his big penis, forcing myself to take it deeper inside, though I still couldn't take all of it. Suddenly David groaned out loud.

I felt his hand as he put it on the back of my head and forcibly pushed down, in turn making his penis go further into my mouth. I tried to ease off when I started choking but he held me down.

"Nnnng! Aaaaarggghhh!" David's groan sounded almost animalistic when I felt his large penis jerk wildly in my mouth as it shot several volleys of warm, tangy semen into it.

From my studies in the library I knew immediately what had just happened. My first instinct was to spit out the stuff, but it didn't taste unpleasant and I knew it was mostly protein; the book had said so. Besides, David's large penis was still deep in my mouth, my lips stretched around his fat stalk and the easiest way to get rid of his semen was by swallowing; I did though I had to do it twice to get rid of it all.

Finally, I felt David release his strong grip on my head and I backed off. I swallowed again and heaved for air, and I was pleased; both for being able to breathe again, and no less for having brought David to an orgasm. Now I thought I understood what sex was all about.

"Fuuuck! Teddy! You're so bloody cute, and sexy as all hell!" David gasped while he gently stroked my hair.

I turned my head and saw the smile on his face. I smiled back at him; though sucking on his large penis had made my eyes water, I felt genuinely happy.

"That was unbelievable!" David said, still smiling. "Okay, lie back on the bed, let's see if you can cum too."

When I was lying on my back, David sat up next to me. He took hold of my penis and began masturbating it vigorously using the milking action he had before. His free hand went in between my thighs, which I spread for him. If he wanted to fondle my balls and caress the skin between my thighs, it was fine by me; I paid more attention to what his hand on my penis did anyway.

David's fingers between my thighs ventured further than they had previously; one of them pushed at my anus instead of merely gently massaging it, and then I felt it probe inside of me. I went back into sensory overload; although it didn't feel quite as good as being sucked, having the most private part of my body explored by David's probing finger had an intensity all of its own.

Gosh! That's most naughty and dirty, I thought, but it only added to my delight that he'd do such a thing to me.

My breathing became harsh and raspy, just like David's had when I sucked his penis. My whole body shuddered as it was wracked by uncontrollable muscle spasms; my toes curled up then uncurled, only to curl right up again. I soon felt an irresistible urge to pee; instead my penis swelled even more and began to pulse between David's fingers. I sat halfway up when the most delightful feeling hit me.

I felt it rather than watched it happen when two little jets of watery semen suddenly squirted onto my heaving chest and I fell back on the bed, gasping desperately for air. Apparently, I had just experienced my first ever orgasm and I absolutely loved everything about it; I wanted more, so much more, just not right then. If he hadn't let go of my penis when he did, I think I just might've died. At least I would've passed out!

David slowly withdrew his finger from my bum hole; I had all but forgotten about it with all the other things going on.

"See? I told you you'd be able to cum!" David said triumphantly and checked the tip of his finger while I examined the watery substance on my chest. There wasn't a whole lot of it, but it had indeed shot out of my penis.

There's still some of it around the pee hole, I noticed and touched it. The substance formed a two inch [c. 5cm] long and very thin string when I pulled my finger away from the end of my penis before the string finally broke.

David wrapped his arm round my shoulder as he lay next to me again. We recovered there on David's bed, lying next to each other for several long minutes, while I fiddled with my sticky discharge and thoroughly enjoyed being held close to him.

"Would you like to meet again tomorrow?" David enquired as we went down the stairs.

"Yeah," I said. Indeed I do; I wouldn't miss it for the world, if you'll make me feel like that again.

"Is it okay if Paul comes along too?" He asked. "He's okay, it'll be great fun with the three of us."

"Yeah, okay," I said and shrugged. I would've preferred it to be just David and me, but Paul was his best friend; I sort of understood why he had to be there too. And I wouldn't mind Paul being there, as long as he'd let me play with his penis and he'd play with mine.

"Great!" David said and smiled at me. "After school meet us by the newsagents. We'll come back here."

It was all arranged and I set off for home. A bad day had turned into a very good one; I had finally played with another boy's penis and he had played with mine. David and I had done so much more than I had ever dreamt of doing and all of it had been even better than I'd ever dared to hope for.

I was home in time to put in a bit of work on the clock before Mum told me to wash up for dinner. The task of putting the clock back together seemed less trivial than before I'd met David.

I could scarcely wait for the next day to see what the afternoon with the two older boys would be like.

Chapter 4
More surprises

I saw two older boys waiting at the newsagents when I went there after leaving school. David I knew, the other one had to be Paul; even from afar I could tell they were good friends.

Still, I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Paul wasn't at all as good-looking as David; while he wasn't ugly as such, he was very ordinary looking. He was the sort of kid I'd walk past without giving him a second look. Well, I would probably try to make it across the street before getting anywhere near him, but I'd do that with any kid I didn't know and who was my size or bigger, which meant pretty much anyone I met.

"This the one?" Paul asked, "Wow! He's even smaller and cuter than you told me!"

Instantly I liked Paul better; he seemed nice enough. I would've liked him even more if he had just said "hi" and went on his merry way. That didn't happen; we all walked to David's house, the two of them sharing knowing looks which I couldn't really interpret. They never mentioned what was about to happen as we walked, they only discussed the day in school.

We all know what we'll be doing anyway, there's no reason to be discussing it out here in the open where someone might hear, I told myself. Intuitively, I knew it wasn't something we were supposed to do, but this only added to my excitement.

As soon as we were inside David's bedroom, we started to undress. I couldn't help but grin; Paul might not be as good looking as David, but he had a great, powerfully built toned body and a beautiful hard, straight penis. It was longer than mine and while it wasn't as long as David's, it was even thicker than that of my hero's. His balls were certainly bigger than David's, and mine, suiting the boy perfectly.

"Well, you might be small, but your prick certainly isn't," Paul commented when he saw mine for the first time.

We settled onto the bed, immediately beginning what we had planned on doing. David sucked my penis while I sucked Paul's; I could scarcely believe it.

Just twenty four hours ago I'd never done anything like this, never even thought of it, but here I am sucking one older boy while another is sucking me. The sensations were everything I could have ever wished for.

Just when I thought things couldn't possibly get any better; I was fast approaching the exiting sensation of having an orgasm, only the second of my twelve year long life, David suddenly stopped sucking on my penis. I kept sucking Paul's fatty, it was perfectly clean and quite tasty, and I loved listening to his happy grunts and the feeling of his appreciative pats to the back of my head.

Out of the corner of my eyes I watched David put some Vaseline on two of his fingers and when he resumed sucking my penis he slipped his hand between my thighs. Immediately I knew what he was about to do.

I only hope the greasy stuff will make his finger go into my bum hole easier than it did yesterday. My nether opening had been sore for the rest of the day right until I finally fell asleep; a constant reminder of what had happened in David's room. Though it had been a somewhat painful experience I didn't object to his action; I fully believed it was a requirement for him to suck on my penis and that I loved more than anything in the world.

His fingers searched for a bit, then found what they were looking for. David worked his fingers on my hole, smearing it with the greasy Vaseline for a minute or so and gently pushed one of them inside as far as the first knuckle. It made me wince, but I didn't do anything to stop him. While it still hurt, it wasn't as bad as the day before and in a funny way it felt good too.

While David was busy sticking more of his finger into my sore bum hole, Paul started to groan; his breathing ragged and uneven. I knew exactly what was about to happen and I sped up, much like I had done with David the day before.

His cock sprang into action and four wads of thick creamy semen flooded my mouth. It tastes different from David's, I noted while I eagerly swallowed it; it was both sweeter and less tangy.

"Wow!" Paul gasped when his big balls had finally emptied themselves into my mouth. He was still struggling to catch his breath. "Did you swallow? Man, that's way out! David told me you were good at sucking, but man, he never told me you'd swallow."

Paul and David switched places. I was still in the middle when the routine began again.

Paul is sucking my penis differently than David, I observed; he did it much harder and more aggressively than David had. I wasn't at all surprised when I felt Paul's finger at my hole; he pushed it in just a bit, paused briefly and took me completely by surprise when he jammed the rest of it all the way in.

I gasped around David's penis, first from the pain of Paul's bony finger so quickly being stuck fully into my bum, then again when it touched a sensitive spot deep inside of me. It felt like he was massaging the other end of my penis and it felt outer-worldly; I cooed, almost delirious from pleasure as he kept touching the spot in my bum. My penis twitched violently in Paul's mouth as I continued to work on David's penis, spurred on to ever greater efforts by the older boy's moans and gasps.

I kept right to it, most eager to have a second load of fresh semen shoot into my mouth. I did it exactly like David wanted it, this time he didn't have to push my head firmer against his body; I grabbed him around the waist and pulled myself closer as I sucked even harder. My reward came only seconds later, for the second time in barely five minutes, my mouth was filled with the rich-flavoured nectar from an older boy.

As I swallowed, Paul completely withdrew his finger from my bum, paused for a moment then thrust it back in, even quicker than he had the first time. My climax was upon me in an instant, two more jabs of Paul's finger into the sensitive spot deep within my bum and his mad suction on my penis made my watery semen squirt into his mouth.

Paul quickly pulled his head away and spat my meagre amount of immature semen onto a tissue, though I'm sure most of what he spat out was his own spittle.

"I don't know why you didn't just swallow it," I offered in a small voice. "It's only protein, it won't hurt you."

That's what the book said, anyway. It must be true, I've not gotten sick from David's, I told myself.

"He always spits it out," David said and put his arm around my shoulder. "He's not as brave as you."

I stayed for a while longer, fully enjoying the relaxed atmosphere in David's room. We didn't even get dressed, not until I had to leave to go home. I headed off with a spring in my step.

School isn't any better, but now I have something to look forward to at the end of the day, I happily concluded as I hurried along to make it home before Mum.

I went straight to David's house the next afternoon after school let out; following his instructions I walked sort of slowly to allow him and Paul time to get there before I'd arrive. Before I had a chance to ring the doorbell, David pulled open the front door and ushered me up to his bedroom. Like the day before, it didn't take us long to shed our clothing and end up on the bed; Paul was already down to his underpants before I got there!

"Come, Teddy," David said brightly as Paul greased up his forefinger. "Give me a nice suck like yesterday."

David sat on his bed with his lower legs dangling from it and I had to kneel on the floor in front of him to suck on his penis. I happily started to do just that and I sensed Paul move up close to me from behind. I braced myself for feeling his fingers or better yet his warm mouth on my penis however he had another agenda.

I felt him spread my buttocks apart and without any kind of warning he stuck the greased-up finger of his fully into my bum. The abrupt pain made me cringe and hadn't David held on tight to my head I would've reared my head back from the surprise.

I tried to focus on what I had in my mouth and ignore what happened in my bum, yet I still whimpered for a minute or so before the sharp pain was replaced by the gooey feelings from having the sweet spot deep within my bum massaged by the tip of Paul's finger. Soon I was sucking David with the same enthusiasm as I had before, spurred on by the finger moving in and out of my bum hole.

Paul snaked his head in between my thighs and only managed to put his mouth around the very tip of my penis when I gasped out and felt my semen spurt into it. Immediately, he pulled back and spat into his hand.

"Fuck! I hate when I get spunk in my mouth," he exclaimed. "Here, you seem to like the taste so much, you can have it," he said.

David let go of my head and I licked up what was in Paul's hand; it wasn't just my sperm, but I licked his palm clean anyway and quickly swallowed what I'd gotten in my mouth. It didn't taste bad at all; it was much sweeter than his sperm.

"There's a good lad," David commented and pointed to his penis glistening from my spittle. "There's more spunk waiting for you in here."

It's not your penis that holds your sperm, it's your balls, I thought but didn't say aloud, I only sucked his dick back into my mouth and nursed it until his tangy and salty offering shot out of the pee slit.

It quickly became routine that I'd spend almost an hour every day right after school let out in David's room before I went back home with one or two loads of sperm in my stomach, sometimes even three, though the third load would be my own meagre offering intermixed with Paul's spittle so I'm not sure if it counts.

Every minute I spent at David's house I was naked and though this made me nervous the first time it soon became second-nature for me to wear no clothes; even when the older boys got dressed so David could see Paul out I remained naked until the time I had to leave to go home too.

I always sucked both boys until their sperm shot out and I swallowed it every single time; I felt as if it was the nectar from a god I drank when I swallowed David's produce. The days when Paul was there with us, I'd suck one of them while the other would play with my penis and my bum until I climaxed too. Only David swallowed what came out of my penis and only when he was absolutely certain Paul wouldn't see it; often times he spat into his hand like Paul would and made me clean his palm with my tongue, but I could tell it was only his spittle I licked up.

The afternoons when I had David all to myself were those I enjoyed most of all; David would remain naked the entire time and treat me much more gentle and loving than when Paul was around. We'd lie on his bed and snuggle while we listened to one of his records as we recovered from our orgasms; when David was ready for another go, I'd suck him a second time and then it would be time for me to leave his house to go home.

Pretty soon, sticking one of their fingers into my bum wasn't enough for them and they introduced a second finger with the first. Paul was the first to do it and though he did it far more gently than I had come to expect from him, it was still a quite painful experience at first. It felt awful yet so exciting that I did nothing to stop him and I was rewarded by my compliance when he massaged the tender spot inside of my bum; it felt extremely nice with one finger, but even better with two!

When they were able to push two of their fingers into my bum without first having to use a single one to open my bum, and when I didn't protest too much to it, they switched over to pushing a carrot into me. They used a quite slim one at first so I took it without any problems, other than thinking it funny they'd waste a perfectly fine carrot by sticking it in my bum.

However, I refused to eat the carrot when Paul suggested I'd do that. It didn't come out clean after it had been inside of my bum; I didn't even want to touch it afterwards.

"Teddy," David told me when he saw me out of his house that afternoon. "Tomorrow, try to take a shit in the lunch break. Your arse will be much cleaner if you can."

"Okay," I said. I'd do anything for David; he was the only person in the whole world who seemed to have a care for me.

Well, I had temporarily forgotten about Darren and his gang occupying the boys' toilets in the first year wing like they were a bunch of mini-Nazis occupying France, and I had to come up with some lame excuse to be let in to use the toilets in the wing for the second year students.

"But, Miss! I'm about to poo myself!" I told the teacher blocking my way, "I can't possibly make it back to my wing."

I crossed my legs while I huffed and puffed, pretending to be in the middle of a serious bowel movement. It was all sorts of humiliating but at least she allowed me in.

And later in the day, the carrot Paul pushed into my bum came back out almost clean; I still didn't want to eat it, not even when he suggested he'd go peel it first. It had been the largest carrot thus far, yet I hadn't had any problems allowing it into my bum. I actually found it very exciting, especially when David took over from Paul and made it rub against the special, sensitive spot in my bum.

The next day, I had to poo quite badly half an hour before lunch recess and though Darren and his gang did their best to argue against me being excused from class, the teacher allowed me to leave for ten minutes while I took care of business in the deserted toilets. Refreshed I went back to the classroom feeling like I had won a small victory over the band of losers.

Back at David's house and in his bedroom, the routine changed again. Immediately after I shucked my clothes, Paul rubbed Vaseline on the carrot David brought up from the kitchen. My eyes widened when I saw the carrot, it was much larger than any of those they had ever stuffed into my bum; fatter and longer.

I readily complied with his order; David was still my hero and now I quite enjoyed having things stuffed into my little bum. As soon as I was in the required position on David's bed, Paul set onto the task of pushing the large carrot into me. He took his time, gradually working it deeper inside of my bum.

"Oooh!" I gasped when I felt it hit my sex-button deep in my bum. My hard penis twitched under me like it had been given an electric shock.

Paul worked the carrot in and out, thrusting it repeatedly over the spot that made me feel all gooey inside. If anyone had so much as touched my erection, I'm sure I would have cum instantaneously.

"He's ready," Paul announced quietly as he pulled the carrot out of my bum hole, yet I could tell he was excited.

"We're going to fuck you," David said. "We're going to take turns pushing our cocks into your sweet little arse. You'll love it just as much as us."

Suddenly everything made sense to me; their fingers and the carrots being pushed into me was all done to prepare my little bum for their huge erections. I was quite alarmed from the revelation. I never thought they'd want to do something like that! He can't be serious, it isn't possible. My bum's too small for that!

Although the carrot Paul had slowly moved in and out of my bum was fairly big, it was quite slim at the tip where it first went into my bum; the two older boys' penises were both longer and much thicker and weren't really tapered at all.

Though I still didn't think it possible, Paul and David seemed determined; they moved the desk away from the wall, making all of what was on top of it fall to the floor and David picked up one of his pillows, placing it on top of the desk.

I complied in the manner of a boy about to be severely punished. It's going to hurt; just as much as being caned if not even more so. I just know it will.

"You'll be all right, it won't hurt too much," I heard David say reassuringly when I lay over the desk, as if he had read my mind. "Move your feet apart a bit."

I did as I was told and spread them as far apart as I could, which wasn't much at all. The desk was quite high and I just wasn't very tall when I was twelve.

"He's got quite a beautiful little arse, it's almost like a little girl's," Paul commented, "What a score, man!"

A moment later I felt him move up behind me and suddenly felt the heat from his penis spearing in between my buttocks. Without any more warning, I felt a violent explosion of pain from my bum hole.

"Yeeeeeeeowww!" I screamed as loudly as I could, completely unable to stop myself.

David quickly picked up my discarded underpants and stuffed them into my mouth muffling my scream.

"Just keep quiet now," he told me softly, "It'll feel very good in a minute, just like our fingers and the carrots."

Paul never stopped, he grabbed my thighs and fucked the rest of his fat penis into my bum. I bit into the soft cloth in my mouth, trying in vain to fight back my tears; the pain was excruciating and the shock of losing my virginity quite indescribable. But, despite all of the pain still rolling like waves through my body whenever Paul's fat, hard penis moved in and out of my tight bum, it started to feel nice; just like David had promised.

To my surprise I felt my penis start to stiffen again, in less than two minutes of Paul fucking my aching hole, it was as hard as ever again. Behind me, Paul's breathing was becoming harsh and ragged. I knew what that meant, Paul's thick sperm would soon flood my innards. But, just when I thought he'd climax for sure, he pulled out of me completely.

"Wow! That was close! Damn, his arse is so unbelievable tight and lovely," Paul exclaimed, still heaving for breath.

"My turn now!" David said, letting me know that my ordeal was far from over. I feared they'd be able to fuck me through the rest of the day and well into the night; it was Friday and not a school night. If they keep taking turns then they'll never finish! But, I still must be home at no later than half past five. If not, there'll be all hell to pay.

David quickly moved in and replaced his friend. My hole was still aching and I had to keep it relaxed as any kind of tension to the muscle resulted in even more pain. It felt like one massive bruise and I wanted to explore the area for damages. Before I had a chance to let my fingertips prod the abrasions, I felt David's longer and slightly thinner penis thrust into me. Soon my hero was fucking my hole like the world would be coming to an end any moment.

It hurt, especially when he thrust so hard it made me slide on top of the desk and the pillow having cushioned the front of my thighs was pushed out from underneath me. I bit more firmly into the underpants in my mouth and endured the pain while I tried to enjoy the unexpected pleasure I got from my sex-button being mashed by David's long penis.

I found myself wishing that David's penis was longer and thicker, despite of the pain. I stopped worrying about what my parents would do to me if Mum was to return to an empty house. All I could think of was the way David made me feel as his penis moved increasingly faster in and out of my bum.

I feel so tiny, I thought and imagined myself having been reduced to nothing but a thing to be used for their pleasure. A warm tight sheath for big cocks to go in and out of. The thought made me strangely excited.

I was quite helpless; I couldn't do anything except for trying to enjoy the sheer brutality of which David fucked me, though my thighs were being squashed between the sharp edge of the desk and his thrusting middle. Somehow, I managed to block out the pain and focus only on the still wondrous feeling of my sex-button being massaged by the large penis thrusting in and out of my bum.

"Nnngh!" I gasped through my nose when a particular hard thrust sent me closer to climaxing. "Nnnnnggggghhh!"

My bum hole tightened painfully around the large penis when I came without anyone having touched my stiff penis. I never thought it was possible, but nonetheless, I felt my balls draw closer to my body, then the convulsions of the sack as my few drops of watery semen shot out to land on the floor below the desk.

"Orhh! Nnnnngh!" David groaned behind me as he sent his semen deep into my bum. "Ohhhh!!"

He slowed to a halt and slumped on my back, and I was able to feel his penis jump in my bum as he unloaded into me. It was a minute or more before he gingerly moved and withdrew from my hole.

"He came!" David objected. "His hole felt like it was choking my cock. Fuck, that was something else!"

Paul pushed in harder than the first time, but my hole was now fully dilated and quite full of David's semen; it didn't hurt me at all. Again he grabbed me around my thighs and pummelled into me. It spared my thighs from the sharp edge of the desk, he pulled me against him as he thrust in, and pushed me away a bit while he pulled back out a bit, before he did it all again.

I wasn't even close to a second climax when I felt his penis begin to jump in my bum, but he reached below and rigorously pumped my erection with his hand. I came again before he finally pulled out of me, but I don't think any more semen spurted out, yet it still felt amazing to me.

As soon as Paul's penis vacated my hole for the last time that day, I felt the greasy mixture of Vaseline and their semen start to seep out of my hole. It wasn't an altogether unpleasant feeling, but I felt spent.

This is what it feels like to be absolutely knackered, truly well-fucked! I remained stationary on the desk even when David leaned over me and gently pulled the underpants from my mouth.

Without stopping to put on any clothes I hurried, though awkwardly, and made my way to the bathroom and sat on the toilet. The semen from both boys exploded out of me like I had a bad case of diarrhoea. I sat there for several minutes, while I tried to make sense of what had just happened. I was quite annoyed with myself for not having seen it coming; the boys' increasing interest in my bum hole should have been a clear giveaway.

The shock and pain of Paul deflowering my virgin arse had been nothing like I'd ever experienced before, but after that, it only felt better and better. Especially when David fucked me. He made me cum simply by fucking my bum! And that felt even better than when I'm sucked or masturbated to climax. It was simply too much to fathom all at once and eventually I stood up from the toilet.

I wiped the greasy mixture of semen and Vaseline from my legs, then tried to wipe my bum too; it was far too sore for me to do anything but dap the paper at it. I'll most likely leave a big stain in my underpants, but they're all soggy from having been in my mouth anyway. I'll just make sure to put them straight in the wash so Mum won't ever see what state they're in.

I unlocked the door and walked somewhat more easily back to David's bedroom. Paul had already left, his clothes gone with him. I was a bit surprised of that but I'd always liked David better anyway.

"Are you all right?" David asked me again and put his arm tenderly around my shoulder.

"Yeah," I said quietly and sat on the side of the bed. David had put an old towel on it, so it was okay if something spilled from my bum while I sat on it. "My bum's sore as hell now, but I'll be fine. Where's Paul?"

"He's gone home," David told me as he sat next to me. "I asked him to. I wanted to make sure you're okay. We were too rough with you. It was all his idea after he met you. I should've never told him about you. I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you like that."

"It's okay," I said and smiled weakly at him. "It's weird though. It hurt like hell when Paul stuck it up me, but once he got going, y'know, his prick rubbing that spot up my bum, it felt great. And when you fucked me, it felt loads better. Why is that?"

"It's your prostate," he explained. "It's what tells your balls to make spunk. We've been learning about it in biology. Ever since, we've been wanting to see if stimulating it would really make someone squirt, but neither of us wanted to have anything stuck into our arse."

"Oh!" I said and grinned, I was well pleased with myself for having done something that the two older boys wouldn't do. "Well, you doing it to me was the best feeling I've ever had."

"Paul and I had a bit of an argument," David suddenly said. "When I told him I wanted to make sure you were all right from us bumming you, he said I was queer for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. "He couldn't wait to push his prick up my bum!"

"Yeah, but he just wants to fuck someone, no matter who it is. He's really into girls. He's always going on about them, but he's not getting anywhere at the moment. I'm not interested in girls though, I like you."

"This is a bit awkward," David said and looked quite uneasy. "Paul's still going to want to come round here so he can, y'know, bum you. But sometimes, I'd like it to be just us two. Is that okay?"

"You get a bad time from Darren Brooks and his mates, don't you?" he asked and suddenly changed the subject.

"He's a spiteful little shit. But there's not much I can do about it. He's got a big brother in fourth year. Trevor is one of the worst kids in school. If I so much as breathe on Darren, I'll have 'Clever' Trevor and his mates after me and that's not going to do either of us any good. I'd like to help, I really would, but I can't."

"It's all right," I told him in a firmer voice. "They don't actually hit me or anything, they only call me names and stuff. It's not that bad."

"Yeah, I will," I promised, though I knew I'd never do such a thing. The guy wasn't interested in anything I'd tell him. No-one is, except for you, David.

Almost reluctantly we got back into our clothes. I had to leave and after a final, big proper hug, I started for home. The pain in my bum stayed with me all the way; it was still present when I went to school after the weekend. But, it only reminded me of the mind-blowing orgasm I had experienced when David fucked me silly.

Chapter 5
The great escape

Over winter, things settled into a routine. David and Paul soon patched things back up; Paul still wanted to fuck my bum, though he kept making fun of David and I being queer for each other. He had no problems with bumming me, sucking either of us or being sucked himself. I still didn't get him, but I let him fuck me all the same anyway. Sort of a way to keep peace between the two, you know?

Paul would be at David's house two or three afternoons a week; the other days I had David all to myself. I still much preferred having David on my own, he was the only person in the whole world who seemed to genuinely care about me. Well, to be fully honest, I didn't mind the times Paul was around, I always ended up being well fucked every time I went to David's house. It didn't matter if Paul was there or not; if he wasn't, David simply fucked me twice before I went home.

After the first full week of them bumming me had passed, it hardly hurt at all, not even when Paul did me first. He always seemed to be in a great hurry and didn't waste any time before he stuffed his fat penis into my bum and fucked me like he'd die any second. I never complained, it was quite exciting to be royally fucked like that and David had made Paul agree to suck me off first.

Paul always spat out my semen in his hand, though, and made me lick it up. He still thought that since it was my spunk, I should be the one to consume it. Funny thing is he didn't think the same of his semen. It always ended up seeping out of my bum hole, but at least I didn't have to eat it then. Now, that would have been extremely gross.

It went like this all the way until shortly before the Easter holidays. Then suddenly things took an unexpected turn for the worse. Darren and his gang of mini-Nazis were discovered smoking in the toilets by a teacher and were punished by Mr. Jones for it. The teacher who had overseen the playground was told to monitor the toilets to make sure no-one would use them for anything other than what a toilet was meant for.

While this meant the toilets could now be used for free again and many a young boy was happy for that, myself included, it also meant Darren and his gang now roamed the playground again. It wasn't long until they spotted me sitting behind my favourite tree and restarted bullying me; not only that, they also spread the reputation of me being the first-year odd-ball to anyone who cared listen to them, including Darren's older brother.

The taunting and name-calling was no longer confined to Darren and his mates; kids as old as sixteen that I didn't even know began to join in. Their name-calling and baiting was even more conning and hurtful than what Darren and his loser friends had been able to think up. I never knew when I'd be confronted by a group of kids, it could happen anywhere, any time; in the corridor when I walked between classes or out on the playground.

There was absolutely nowhere at school I felt safe. Things quickly escalated; the more distressed I became, the more the mean kids baited me. I knew David wanted to help me, but he couldn't do anything but try to comfort me after school and that he did; every afternoon I was fucked so well by him, and at times Paul, that I for a short moment in time forgot all of my troubles.

Well, David told me he reported it to his form tutor and convinced me to tell mine, but like I had anticipated nothing was really done to put an end to it. As long as there was no physical violence my form tutor wasn't overly concerned.

"Just ignore them," was his only advise to me. "Soon they'll grow bored from the lack of response and find another way of amusing themselves."

Fuck! I swore inwardly when I left his office. I should like to see you try to ignore ten or fifteen kids much bigger than yourself chanting insults at you!

One morning recess not so long after I had the sit down with my form tutor, I headed out to the playground as we were all required to; no-one was allowed inside due to Darren's gang smoking in the toilets. Like always as I followed the other kids outside, my heart began pounding; I already knew what to expect once I'd exit the doors. And exactly as I had predicted, within seconds of my emerging, Darren started the baiting and name-calling.

I tried to do as I was told; I ignored him and his gang as best as I could and turned my back on them, quickly walking across the playground to get away from them. Usually they couldn't be bothered following me around the large school grounds for any length of time, but now they did. Other kids joined in the fray, then more. I was extremely distressed, I felt like giving up; all I wanted was to throw myself to the ground and cry.

With no particular thought in mind I found myself heading towards the school gate with tears in my eyes, more than twenty pursuers in my wake, hurling taunts and insults at me. As I got closer to the gate, I heard a voice inside my head.

RUN! It shouted. Don't look back, just bolt! Run out the gate, get away from this hell-hole.

I never stopped to consider my actions before I was running full speed out of the gate never to be passed during school hours without express permission in writing or being accompanied by an adult.

I'm FREE! I suddenly realised as I ran along the street, running faster than I had ever thought I was capable of. My tormentors had all stopped at the gate.

Straying off school premises was strictly against the rules and transgressors could expect to be severely punished. It wouldn't just result in a detention and a letter home, no, it meant the school would telephone the parents of the transgressor and a caning on top of that. I didn't care about canings or the school alerting my parents; all that mattered to me was I had finally escaped.

I was away from the classes where I never learned anything anyway, away from all the sheer misery and torture the school inflicted on me. I was finally entirely on my own, out in the sunshine.

Well, it really wasn't that simple, of course not; I was a fugitive. My first thought was simply to go home, but I figured 'they', the school, my parents or the police or whoever, were likely already searching for me and they'd drag me back to school when they found me. If anyone was actively searching for me, my house would be the first place they'd look.

That's where I would go look for someone who ditched school, I told myself. What about the library then? It's always been safe there.

None of Darren's gang ever went to the library and there were plenty of books to be found to occupy myself until I could go home without anyone wondering why I wasn't at school. But, wearing my school uniform would be too conspicuous to anyone who might see me at the library.

The school crest embroidered onto my sweater and the shirt underneath it told everyone the name of my school. It was like wearing a tag informing anyone that might find me where I should be returned to if I got lost.

Like the name tags sewn into my school clothes, only on the outside. No, the library would be one of the worse places I could go. Or is it? A plan quickly formulated in my head.

I'll go home, though it will be risky. I can't stay there for long, but a quick dash home to change into my playing-out clothes should be doable. In my normal boys' clothes, I'll be able to go to the library without causing any suspicion. I just have to make sure no-one sees me when I'm there. If I must, I can sit in one of the toilet stalls, they're not as filthy as those at school.

It was still a risk, but one I just had to take. No matter what, I'm not going back to school!

I went to my house via a back route I wouldn't normally use. It was much longer, but not at all as busy as the road I'd normally walk along. When I turned into the quiet side street where I lived, I carefully checked to see if anyone was about.

Everything seems quiet and perfectly normal, I thought as I couldn't see any police cars or other suspicious vehicles parked in front of my house, and I quickly let myself in and headed to my bedroom. Two minutes later, I had changed my clothes and ready to go, though I wouldn't be going to the library.

Before I left the house, I stopped in the kitchen and grabbed an apple and two pieces of a cake Mum baked the day before. They went into a small carrier bag along with George Orwell's 'Animal Farm', the book I was currently reading. When I left my house, I made my way to the park near the town hall.

Sitting in the shade on one of the more remote benches I consumed the cake and apple and began to read. Within a short period of time the park was thronged with office workers on their lunch break out enjoying the spring sunshine. I smiled to myself. This is the perfect place to hide. No-one would ever come looking for me here. The office workers all minded their own business, none of them looked my way.

About an hour after I sat on the bench, I needed to pee; it was the one thing I hadn't done while I was at home, neither had I done it at school. I was also quite thirsty; leaving home with two large pieces of pound cake without bringing anything to drink had left my throat feeling parched. I put the book into the carrier bag and headed for the public toilets on the far side of the park.

Upon entry, I saw three men ranged at intervals along the urinal. I wasn't comfortable about standing between either of them; they were grownups and I was only a small twelve year old kid on the run, though my penis was much bigger than average for my age. I dashed into the only vacant stall and quickly bolted the door.

While I stood in front of the toilet and peed, I couldn't help but notice the writing and crude drawings on the walls of the stall; they were all about sex. My eyes stopped when they reached a blocked-in piece of writing.

Looking for gents for a bit of fun!
I'm here Tues/Thursdays 11 PM!

11 PM is unfortunately far too late in the evenings for me to sneak out. Besides, I'm much too young to be a 'gent', I'm only twelve. I wonder what they'd think if someone as young as me were to show up for 'a bit of fun.'

Finishing my pee, I studied the walls more closely, playing with my penis as I did. It didn't take long until it was fully erect, seconds perhaps. I had already done some of the things people had written on the walls, but not all; it sparked my curiosity of what it would be like doing it with someone who knew about those things. Someone who was proficient in male to male sex.

Someone older and far more experienced than both David and Paul; they haven't fucked anyone but me, no matter what Paul claims.

It was then I noticed the hole someone had cut in the thin partition that separated my stall from the adjacent one; it was a rugged circle some three and a half inches [c. 9cm] in diameter and level with my crotch. Suddenly feeling less bold and quite nervous, I bent over and peeked through the hole.

A slim, fairly good looking guy I judged to be in his mid-twenties sat on the toilet in the other stall. He was playing with his penis, about the same thickness as David's as far as I could tell in the faint light, but much darker and longer with a dense crop of pubic hair above.

I was mesmerised; I couldn't take my eyes off the sight of the guy playing with himself like that. He must have noticed me watching him as he pulled out a small notebook and scribbled something onto a page. He tore the page out of the book and pushed it along with a pen through the hole to me.

Beautiful cock!

How old are you?

Can you cum?

Without really thinking, I wrote the replies to his questions in my big and childish handwriting. It reminded me so much of what I saw taking place in class, when Darren and his mates sent notes back and forth.

No-one's ever been interested in swapping notes with me before, I thought as I wrote.

Beautiful cock! fanx urs nice 2!

How old are you? 12 you

Can you cum? yes you

I pushed the piece of paper back through the hole and played with myself while waiting for his reaction. I didn't have to wait long, almost instantly, he held it out for me again. This time it was a new piece of paper.

I'm 25! I cum LOADS! Let's see your arse?

Again, without much thought, I turned my rear end towards the hole and pulled my jeans and underpants down. I bent over and spread open my bum cheeks allowing him a good ten seconds look.

I'm 25! I cum LOADS! Let's see your arse? you lik?

A lot! Who's fucking it?

The question frightened me, I hadn't realised that anyone would be able to tell I'd been fucked just by seeing my bottom, but as they say, the cat was out of the bag and I was too excited to care that this guy knew of my secret activities with David and Paul.

I'm 25! I cum LOADS! Let's see your arse? you lik?

A lot! Who's fucking it? olter kits frum ~~scho~~ skuwl

They got big ones? yes

Can I fuck it too? Now? HERE?

Yes! Push your arse right up against the hole and I'll fuck it. I'll suck yours after. ok got ene vasorleen?

The guy didn't pass the note back after my last question, instead he fished a small tube out of the pocket of his trousers. He showed it to me and smiled. It clearly wasn't Vaseline, but I presumed that whatever it was, it would do. This guy was much older than David and seemed far more experienced. When he beckoned me to turn around and present my bum to him again, I did it without a moment's hesitation.

I backed up to the partition wall, bent over and pushed my buttocks firmly up against it; I had to balance myself by resting my hand on the toilet seat as I aligned my bum to the hole in the wall. A moment later I felt the guy using one finger to work the cold and slimy gel into my bum hole; a short while later a second finger joined the first.

This stuff is so much better than Vaseline, I quickly decided. It made my hole much wetter and far more slippery, certainly a lot less greasy and it made his fingers slide in and out of my bum almost effortlessly.

The fingers withdrew from my hole and seconds later I felt the guy's cock probing at my hole. I relaxed and pushed out; I'd learnt that doing this made it a lot easier for me whenever David and Paul fucked me. The guy penetrated me very slowly, even slower than David ever did and took forever to edge his way forwards until I felt his coarse pubic hair touch my buttocks. I'd taken all of his long cock into my bum, minus the half inch or so [c. 1cm] the partition wall blocked him from pushing into me; still, it went further inside of me than anything before.

I felt him rearrange himself in the other stall, then he started to fuck me. I was in ecstasy, it was even better than when David fucked me; I almost moaned out load before I remembered where we were. I could hear men entering and leaving the toilets, the sounds from the plumbing when toilets and the long urinal were flushed and someone washing his hands. All the while the guy fucked my happy bum hole; the pace and intensity picking up rapidly.

Without a moment's warning, I felt the man's cock jerk wildly inside me, spewing out volley after volley of thick, creamy fluid. It felt like my bum was being flooded by his semen. All too soon and suddenly, it was all over and I felt the long cock slowly vacate my bum hole.

If only he'd fucked me for just a minute longer, I would've cum too. It would've been the best one yet, I thought, but soon found myself worrying over the amount of semen the guy had shot into my bum.

I had to get rid of it before it would explode out of me, but my penis was so stiff and my balls desperate for relief. I stood up and turned to face the hole in the partition wall; the guy was already waiting for me to stick my penis into the hole, he was grinning at me and opened his mouth wide. His tongue came out too. I couldn't refuse an open invitation like that and quickly pushed everything I had through the hole and into his mouth.

His lips closed around my hard penis and reflexively I started to pump my hips, fucking my boyhood into the eager guy's mouth. He sucked hard at it and worked his tongue against it as I thrust it fully in and out of his warm, moist mouth.

It's way over the top doing stuff like this with the dangers of being discovered hanging over our heads, I thought, but it didn't take long at all; I was already pretty worked up from the bumming and only thirty seconds later my penis swelled and started pulsing.

Little jets of my gooey boy-nectar, which I can guarantee still tasted sweet, spurted into the man's mouth. While I came, I farted; I just couldn't help myself and I felt some of the guy's semen splutter out of my rear end and trickle down my thighs. Very gingerly I moved away from the hole and quickly sat on the toilet. My chest heaved in muted gasps of air while I tried to empty my bum as quietly as possible while reflecting over the whole thing.

The guy in the next stall pulled up his trousers and left without a word or note of thanks while I sat thinking on the toilet; the only proof of anything ever happened was the dark green pen I still held in my hand and the wonderful feeling of my bum hole having been used by the man.

This has got to be the sexiest and most exciting thing I've ever done in all of my life, I decided.

Finally, the guy's creamy sperm had been pushed out of me; he had spurted far more into me than I was used to, even more than David and Paul combined. I cleaned myself as best as I could, pulled up my underpants and my jeans and made my way back outside.

It was still sunny and warm, and I quickly went back to the still empty bench in the shade. I sat and resumed reading my book as if nothing unusual had happened inside the toilets. After a few minutes I became aware of sperm seeping from my bum hole into the seat of my underpants.

Aw! Oh well, it's always the same, I thought, no matter how careful I am, there's always a bit that comes out later. I just hoped David wouldn't notice, it was one of the days when I'd have him all to myself. Well, it's just too bad if he does. He doesn't own me, he's my friend, not my boyfriend or anything.

When the town hall clock sounded three thirty I started back towards school, though I had no intentions to walk all the way there; David's house was in the same direction.

No, I'll never go back to school ever again, if I have something to say about it. They can keep my coat and schoolbag for all that I care.

I reached David's house at ten to four and walked up the front path and rang the bell. A moment later I heard him come running down the stairs and he answered the door.

"You'd better come in then," David told me, looking less than pleased with the idea. He shut the door the same instant I entered his house. "I heard you ran off from school. You're going to be in big trouble tomorrow."

"I do not care!" I snapped. "I had about twenty big kids after me, calling me names and shouting they were going to get me. I can't stand it anymore. The teachers know it's happening but they never do anything to stop them, so I left. I'm not going back to school ever again."

I eyed him up. He hadn't offered one word of support; he just looked worried, as though he might get into trouble for harbouring a fugitive or something. I felt royally let down.

I thought he was my best friend; he's been fucking me for months, but nice as he's always seemed to me, he isn't going to do anything to help me either. As far as school goes, I'm clearly on my own, I thought and let myself out.

I left David's house that day for the first time without having done anything sexual with him.

The inquisition began as soon as my dad returned from work. He arrived home minutes after my mum. I guess there's a first for everything. My school had of course contacted them as soon as they learned of my absconding the premises.

"Ever since I started school, I've been bullied. First because I'm ginger, then because of my name. Why did you have to name me after a stupid toy?" I nearly shouted out the last two words of my question.

"A toy?" Mum asked. "We didn't name you after a toy. We named you after Theodore Roosevelt, Teddy! And you're not a ginger! Your hair is blonde with just a bit of reddish tone to it which only ever comes out in the darkness of winter."

"Oh," I exclaimed. Maybe Mum was right, but I hadn't finished. "Well, everyone calls me 'teddy bear' and I hate it! Look at me! Do I look like a bear at all? I'm skin and bones, not an ounce of fat anywhere! Yet, they still call me bear! And then they make fun of how pale my skin is or how red my cheeks get when I'm angry. And the past two weeks school has been nothing but pure agony and constant threats of being beaten with sticks or used for target practise."

"I'm not going back to be bullied again! The teachers know all about it, I told my form tutor and I know…" I paused briefly, I had almost mentioned David's name and I didn't want my parents to know about him. "I know that someone told their form tutor. So that's at the very least two teachers who know what's going on and they've done nothing to end it.

"There were twenty kids after me this morning. They called me names and threatened to get me and stuff. I just couldn't stand it anymore, so I ran away from school. I'm never going back there."

For once my parents actually listened to me, sort of; Dad insisted that I'd go back to school the very next morning.

"You have to face up to the consequences of your actions. You broke the rules today, tomorrow you'll take your punishment like the twelve year-old that you are and not try to slip out of it by behaving like a three year-old. Are we clear?"

"Listen to your father, Teddy. He knows best," Mum backed him up. It didn't come as a surprise to me, she always did that. "I'll go with you. I'll have a word with someone in charge. There'd better be a real good explanation as to why nothing has been done to stop you from being bullied."

"If only you'd at least try to fit in with your classmates then none of this would've happened in the first place. That school you go to, it was the best we could find that would take you with those exams of yours. It could be so much worse, remember that, Teddy."

"Sir," I muttered. I couldn't see how things could possibly get even just a little tiny bit worse than they already were. I'd been chased away from school, my only friend had turned out to not be a friend at all; David was only interested in having sex with me, and now my parents, those who should love and respect me, went completely against my wishes and were ordering me to return to the very place I hated with a passion that far surpassed anything I'd ever felt before.

"I'm sick," I said in a tiny, weak voice that I hoped would lead her to believe it was true.

"I feel so hot and I haven't slept all night because my tummy hurts," I said, whiny like I was much younger. I don't care if it makes me sound like I'm four years old. I'll do anything that'll keep me out of school.

Mum came to my bed while I explained and she put her hand on my forehead; then slipped it under the thin top I was wearing and felt the top of my back, just below my neck.

"You don't seem too hot to me," she told me. "Lie on your side and stick your bum out from under the covers, I'll go get the thermometer."

Oh no! Mum will see my bum hole then! I cannot let her see it. It feels battered from yesterday, but dang, that was seriously cool!

"It's fine, Mum. I'll get up. I am sick but if you won't believe me, I'll go to school," I said and hoped she'd tell me to stay in bed.

Mum took me to see Mr. Jones, the Head of First Year. I hadn't seen him after he welcomed the first years to the school on the very first day, certainly I'd never been to his office. I couldn't help but glance at the cabinet in the corner; behind its glass door, I could clearly see three different sized canes. I knew the punishment for absconding was a caning and I suddenly feared that was why Mum had taken me directly to his office; so that she could witness my punishment.

Instead, Mum angrily confronted Mr. Jones. She demanded to be told why I was being bullied without anyone putting a stop to it. His facial expressions changed, clearly he didn't know what to say.

"Mrs. Larsen, discipline in the classrooms is generally good and strictly upheld."

"That's all fine and well, however it isn't in class Teddy is being bullied. It's during recesses when he's outside with the other children. How is discipline upheld there?"

"I'm sorry to admit that we haven't paid much attention to the way our students behave on the playground. The teachers use the recesses for meetings and uh, more personal matters."

"So you've no idea that Teddy is being chased around the premises by children threatening to hurt him?"

"Not at all Mrs. Larsen, this is news to me. Now that you've brought it to my attention I will deal with it," he promised and faced me.

"While I knew you were getting a certain amount of stick from some of the boys you're in class with," he said, looking very uncomfortable, "I had no idea things have gotten as bad as they have."

"Now, Teddy," Mr. Jones said and returned his attention to me. "I'm not going to punish you for running away from school this time, but you must promise me that you will never abscond again. If you feel endangered at any time, I want you to immediately tell a teacher."

"Yes, sir," I promised, but kept my fingers crossed on my back. If things don't improve, I won't think twice about running as quickly away from school again.

Mum seemed pleased with this arrangement and excused herself as she had to go to work.

Things didn't improve; they only got worse. However, I survived until the Easter holiday and thoroughly enjoyed the week of no school. I spent most of the days naked in David's bedroom with him and Paul, where we all took great delight in how they'd fuck me silly until I could scarcely limp home before my curfew. While I wasn't completely clueless, I knew they weren't really my friends, I still went to David's house for the sex.

All too soon school started back up again and on the second day I ran away again. Just like the first time, the bullies stopped at the gate and I was free to do whatever I wanted without any pressure from anyone. And, like the first time, I went to the toilets in the park to see if the guy with the long fat cock would be waiting for me. I spent three long hours sitting in the stall waiting for him, but he never showed.

Instead of going to see David, I went straight home and waited for my parents to return from work. I was told off, Dad moaned excessively about me never keeping my promises. The next morning Mum brought me back to see Mr. Jones, where she demanded to be told why I was still being bullied, even after her first chat with him.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Larsen. I'm doing everything in my power. Most of the students bullying your son aren't mine so it requires me to talk to a lot of my colleagues. They're all very busy and I haven't been able to find a date when all of us are free to discuss the matter."

Mum bought it and left school shortly after that. Unfortunately she didn't bring me with her and I wasn't excused from Mr. Jones' office.

"Teddy," he looked intensely at me when we were alone in his office. "You must stop running away from school. God forbid, if you end up getting hurt during school hours, it will fall back upon me! I can't keep you safe when you're not here."

I scrunched up my nose in defiance. Fuck that! You couldn't be bothered looking after me while I am at school.

I remained sat on the chair as he got up and walked to the cabinet with the canes in it.

"I take no pleasure in doing this, but you've left me no choice," he told me as he took the shortest of the three canes; it didn't look terribly intimidating to me, it was just a thin stick with a mahogany handle all of perhaps 2 feet [c. 60cm] long.

"Stand here," he said and pointed to the floor in front of him. I reluctantly did as he said; though I wasn't afraid of the cane, the humiliation of having to submit to him was enough to make me wish I'd never returned to school with Mum that morning.

"Keep your back and legs straight, and bend right over, put your hands on your knees." When I did that, he continued, "Your punishment for running from school is three strokes of this cane. Don't do it again; the punishment will only get worse if you do."

He wacked my trouser-clad bottom three times with the thin cane. I took the beating in near silence; though the cane hurt much worse than I thought it would, I wasn't about to cry out. I gasped aloud when it struck home the third and final time, but that was it.

"Go to class now," Mr. Jones said. "Think twice before you consider absconding again."

"Sir," I mumbled and left his office. Only when I was standing in the deserted corridor outside his office did I allow my hands to reach back and rub my burning buttocks.

Despite Mr. Jones' warning of the punishment, I found myself running off from school again. The second time I was punished, he went for the middle cane. It was both longer and thicker than the first one and I received five strokes with it. This time he really made the cane sing as he brought it crashing into my buttocks; it brought tears running from my eyes, but again I managed not to cry out nor reach back to prevent him from caning me. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Finally, after having ten kids running after me swinging sticks and throwing stones at me, I ran from school a fourth time. This time, and to my parents' utter surprise I dug my heels in. I had always been quite placid around my parents, but now I was thoroughly fed up with kids bullying me and Mr. Jones punishing me for trying to avoid it.

"I'm not going to put up with being treated like that anymore! The school doesn't care about me or you; I'm not going back there, and nothing you say or do will change my mind. If you take me back to that school, I'll run away again. Only this time, I'll run away from home too! You'll never see me again."

Don't get me started on how much Dad moaned over that, I don't think I've ever seen him as angry as he was that night, but finally he got the picture. A home tutor was arranged to teach me at home for the rest of term while my parents tried to locate another school for me.

I quite liked being taught at home; working one-on-one with my tutor, even for only a couple of hours every day, vastly improved my spelling and maths skills. I wanted it to continue and asked Mum if it would be possible, but the local council wouldn't pay for it beyond the end of term and Dad certainly didn't want to pay either; I'd have to go back to school, one just had to be found first.

While my parents searched high and low for a new school for me, I kept having fun with David and Paul. Though I had lost any illusions I ever had about us being friends, I'd become addicted to sex and I knew that whenever I went to David's house, I'd leave it as a happy, well-fucked camper.

My parents finally sat down with me and tried to convince me to go to one of the other local high schools; I wouldn't go to either one of the two. Not only were they much further away from my house, meaning I'd have to give up my afternoon sex sessions with David and Paul; their reputation was much worse than the high school I ran away from.

My tutor agreed, not because of the sex, I never mentioned that to him, but he suggested a small boarding school might be more suitable for my needs. Inevitably, Dad immediately moaned about the fees he'd have to pay and Mum wasn't at all happy with the thought that I'd be moving out at the tender age of twelve.

"I'd still be right here at home every holiday," I argued. The thought of leaving everything behind and hopefully finally make some real friends seemed like a good idea to me. No, it's an excellent idea! David had told me rumours of what went on in the dorms at night when I told him that I might go to boarding school.

It took days, but finally Mum relented and convinced Dad that we should at least give it a try.

Chapter 6
Fresh start

The first school I visited with Mum wasn't anything for me; the discipline seemed harsh and militaristic. I was only allowed to speak to two boys while we were monitored by one of the teachers; the boys were cowed and down-trodden and even shyer than me.

Worse still, the headmaster talked down to both me and Mum, making it sound as though he would be doing us a favour by allowing me to enrol. When we sat in the car driving home, we quickly agreed that I wasn't going to that school, Mum didn't like the impression of it either.

Two days later we were back on the road again to visit a second school. Almost immediately I rejected it too; the boys were all snobs and the school uniform looked ridiculous. This time my mum acquiesced more reluctantly.

"You have to agree to one of the schools on my list. There are only two left and it has to be either this or one of the remaining. Are you sure you wouldn't like it here? You'd look like a proper darling in that uniform, I quite liked it."

I pulled a face. "I'll never wear a dark purple and silver striped blazer! Forget it, Mum."

The third school we set off for sounded like a Christian reformatory to me; with a name like Hartswood Priory, I imagined it would be a place full of chanting monks and strictly enforced vows of silence, fasting and chastity. Not something I thought boded well for my sexual appetite that was only growing stronger with every passing day, and I almost turned it down without going to see what the place was like.

"Now, Teddy. This is much further from where we live than I would've liked, but Jeanette's nephew was a boarder here a few years back, and she spoke very highly of it."

"Who's Jeanette?" I asked as we came to a stop in front of a large country house. It looked nothing like I imagined a priory should be.

"She's one of my work colleagues. Be on your best behaviour, we want to make a good impression."

We were met in the entrance hall by a man who introduced himself as the deputy headmaster, Mr. Halford.

"So, Teddy. Your mother has already informed me of why you're looking for a new school. I can assure you there would be no bullying if you should decide to enrol here," he told me when we sat in his office. "You'll get all the help you'll need to improve your academic skills, provided you put in the effort required."

"I'm pleased to hear that. We'll also expect you to fully participate in games and gym; there'll be no cutting corners here," he warned me. Apparently he had requested information from my previous schools as I'm sure Mum wouldn't have mentioned my reluctance to participate in any kind of physical activities to him.

"But," he continued, "If you truly are prepared to work hard and make a fresh start, we'll welcome you with open arms."

I was still somewhat apprehensive about games and gym, but I realised it was something I'd have to do regardless of where I went. The rest of it sounded good, much better than the other schools I had visited with Mum. Best of all, Mr. Halford doesn't talk down to me at all; he's treating me almost like I'm a young adult and not a child. I really appreciated that and speculated if this school might actually be the place for me.

He popped his head out into the corridor and beckoned for someone to join us in his office. In came a tall, good-looking boy.

"This is Giles," Mr. Halford said to me then turned his attention to the tall boy. "Please show Teddy and his mother Mrs. Larsen round the school, answer any questions they have and then bring them to the refectory in time for lunch."

"I'll see you back here afterwards," he told us and I followed the handsome boy out of the office, with Mum closely behind.

I took to Giles immediately. Although he was clearly very well-off, far more than I was, he was softly spoken, friendly and not in the least bit snobbish. Better still, the short grey shorts and white polo top he was wearing made him look incredibly sexy.

"You'll be living in a dorm with seven other boys," Giles told me. "You'll soon make friends."

I couldn't help but wonder again, whether anything went on in the dorms at night.

There must be! You can't have so many boys live so closely together and not have anything going on between them. If only Mum wasn't right there, I'd ask Giles and find out for sure, I thought, but on the other hand I wasn't sure if I would've dared ask such a question. Even if he did the best he could, I still felt terribly shy around him.

I did manage to ask him about the shorts he was wearing; whether they were mandatory or optional like it had been for me in the last two years of junior school.

"They're mandatory, no long trousers here. It really isn't so bad," he said, "certainly not when the weather is as warm as it is today. Aren't you used to wearing shorts?"

"Not since year four in ju…" I started, then remembered what Mum had told me about being on my best behaviour. "Uh, no. I mean not all of the time anyway."

Well, they sure make you look sexy. I supposed I'd look sexy wearing very short grey shorts too. Maybe it'll help me make friends with someone; hopefully one who'd want to have sex with me.

The tour ended with Giles showing me and Mum to the refectory for lunch. I couldn't help myself; my eyes were drawn to a whole succession of cute boys, ranging in age from nine to thirteen, all dressed the same way Giles was, in short grey shorts and white polo tops. I felt my penis stiffening rapidly, straining against the confines of my briefs and jeans, the prospect of sharing a dormitory with boys like these were sending my hormones into overdrive.

The atmosphere in the refectory was relaxed but orderly, the boys seemed genuinely happy and very much at home.

The food's not bad either and then there are the sights. My eyes wandered around the room, taking in the numerous sights that presented themselves all the time. Oh, yeah! My mind was made up. This is most definitely the school for me!

When September rolled in, I found starting at Hartswood Priory quite difficult. Everything was so new to me, I mean, even the socks I was given to wear by Matron were new. All of the other items of clothing I was given were used, yet I ended up with more stuff than I could've possibly carried on my own.

Fortunately James Corless was there to help me, he had been waiting for me when Mum dropped me and the old travel trunk off at the school. She left to return home almost immediately after I got out of the car; only waited long enough for me to lug the very heavy trunk out of the boot and shut the boot lid.

T'was better she left in a hurry rather than kiss me for longer than she did, I told myself as I stood there with my trunk, feeling more lost than I had felt back on my first day in junior school; the trunk was too heavy for me to carry anywhere on my own and I didn't want to leave it sitting on the gravel driveway unattended.

And then James had come looking for me and helped me carry the old trunk up to our dorm.

"We're in Rutherford," he told me as we walked. "Did you fill your trunk with bricks?"

"Heh, no, only books," I replied embarrassedly. The list of things I could bring with me to school was quite short, basically everything I'd ever need at school would be provided for. As there had been no limits as to how many books were allowed I put as many as I could into the old trunk along with my toothbrush and a set of clothes for travelling back home for the holidays after the first half term. That and a few items I really wasn't meant to bring; I just couldn't leave my small toolkit back at home.

When the trunk was sat next to my bed, James led me to Matron's supply storage room. She quickly gauged my sizes and started handing me clothes, so many I wished for having emptied the trunk and brought it to her storage room.

Matron handed me seven pairs of white underpants, the briefs style with no fly, seven pairs of socks, two sets of shorts and three polo shirts; games and gym kit including shin guards and studded shoes; these I had to try on for size. Then a normal set of shoes, black leather ones, and finally bedding and a towel.

"Right," James said brightly and dumped the stuff he had been carrying for me on top of my bed. "I'll let you have a bit of privacy while you get changed into uniform. I'll guard the door for you, so don't worry about anyone coming in while you're naked."

I put the stuff I held in my arms on my bed and searched for the individual items of the uniform I was about to change into; I only undressed after I had found everything I needed, wanting to spend as little time as possible naked and vulnerable in a strange place bustling with strangers.

I wonder how many boys have worn these before me, I mused as I slipped my feet into the pair of cotton underpants I'd selected for my first day. They certainly weren't new, but they were soft and clean; I could smell the remnants of the bleaching chloride that had rendered them virtually spotless. The underpants were snug, though not too snug for my important parts. I put on the socks next after I tore away the piece of string that held them together.

I put on the shorts and found out just how short they were when I did up the button and zipper.

My legs are bloody pale! I observed. They hadn't seen the light of sun in almost four years; ever since I'd been allowed to wear long trousers in junior school I hadn't worn a pair of shorts. I should have worn shorts this summer.

It was too late for that now, and I suppose it was for the better anyway. Had I wore shorts over the summer they most certainly wouldn't have been as short as the pair I was wearing now and that would've left at least an inch [c. 2.5 cm], maybe two [c. 5cm] of very pale skin between the tanned part of my thighs and the hem of the grey shorts. That would've looked so ridiculous.

The shorts were tight, but a perfect fit; they hugged my bum firmly, while still leaving enough room in front for my private parts to be comfortable.

I'll get used to them soon enough, I certainly like seeing the other boys in their shorts, I thought as I put on the white polo top and carefully tugged it in under the waistband of the shorts. If only my legs weren't paler than white.

The leather shoes were already worn in, maybe a tad bit too large for me; but from the way my feet had been growing lately, I knew it would only be a matter of months, maybe as little as weeks, before the shoes too would be a perfect match to my feet.

"Thanks," I said. I really wanted to tell him he looked sexy in his uniform, but I held my tongue.

"So, like I said this is our dorm, my bed is this one," he said and sat on the bed next to mine. "All the dormitories here are named after famous scientists and engineers. Rutherford was the father of nuclear physics."

I was pleased with the dorm I had been placed in; though I didn't know much about nuclear physics, I knew enough to realise nuclear fission was the power of the future and was going to become part of everyday life soon. There was already more than one nuclear power station in use and more would follow, I was sure of that. One day all the electricity in the world will come from nuclear power stations. We'll need it to power our computers.

"Let's go," he said and got up from his bed before I had a chance to tell him what the future with computers and nuclear power plants would be like. "I'll give you a tour of the school grounds."

"That's okay," I said; I was more concerned with the mess lying on my bed. "Giles already gave me one when I first visited."

"Yeah, but you weren't alone then were you? Your parents would've been with you."

"Oh. Well, come on, I'll show you the more interesting places, those Giles wouldn't have shown you. I know what he was like; he'd stick with the program. Don't worry about that," he pointed to my bed, "you can put your things away afterwards."

There was more to the school than I had thought; James spent the next two hours taking me to places so much more interesting to a boy my age than those Giles had shown me and Mum. And I found there was more to James too; he was about my height, a bit heavier than me, but the extra weight came from muscles, he was a fairly good-looking and strong boy.

I certainly won't turn him away if he wants to have sex with me. I definitely would like to have sex with him, I told myself but couldn't find the courage to tell him.

When we returned to our dorm, most of our other dorm mates were there and James left me with them. They all knew each other; all of them had been at the school for years already, except for one. Marcus Northam's bed was a mess like mine. He was a Birmingham lad and spoke with a rough accent but he seemed okay; not at all a troublemaker like Darren Brooks had been. He was a good six inches [15cm] taller than me, even taller than David.

I can't wait to find out if he has a big one to match the matureness of his body. I wouldn't mind getting to know Marcus a lot better too, that's for sure.

I spent most of the time until dinner getting my things in order and listening to the conversation in the dorm. My shyness kept me from joining in and I found myself second-guessing my decision to be sent to a boarding school. It seemed like such a good idea, but I never expected the other boys to be so familiar with each other and so… So indifferent about me being in the dorm with them. If only I was back at home in my room. I never felt so alone there as I am now.

Dinner was about the same; I tagged along with James to the refectory and sat at the same table as he and his friends, but I only responded to direct questions and only with one word sentences. I didn't even care to check out any of the boys in their cute outfits.

After dinner, I lay in bed on my back with a book. It was what I had always done at home and I found comfort in reading, though it was harder to focus with all the excited chatting going on amongst the other boys in the room.

James nudged my foot. "It's time to get ready for bed," he told me when I looked up from the book.

I checked my watch, it was only just before nine o'clock, somewhat earlier than I usually went to bed at home. The other boys were in various stages of undressing and I practically leaped out of bed to keep up with them.

Wearing only our underpants we trooped along the corridor towards the shower room and I watched the last boys from the dorm next to mine just leaving the damp tiled room as we got there.

"You'd better left some warm water for us," Marcus said in his rough voice, but he was grinning so I knew he was only jesting.

In the shower room, everyone removed their underpants without even the slightest of hesitations, though the door to the corridor was still wide open, and got under the showerheads in the communal shower.

I followed suit; stood under the only vacant shower and had a quick look around. The other boys were all happily soaping in their bodies while chatting; none of them took any notice of me and I risked another look at them. They certainly weren't shy; they all carefully washed their genitals and bums, making sure they were washed clean, in front of everyone.

It's like they're showering at home, nothing at all like we used to shower after games classes where hardly anyone bothered washing their bits, I noted. Not these lads, they all took their time to get properly clean, like it was second-nature to be doing that in front of seven other boys with the door to the corridor open for anyone to stop and gawk. Well, I didn't stare at them, but I managed to get an eyeful while I washed my own parts.

Marcus was the tallest of us by some margin, he had a great body and the largest penis too; it was a little longer than mine and noticeably thicker with a little patch of sandy-coloured hair just starting to sprout above it. Everyone else still had small ones, even Timothy Price who was three inches [c. 7.5cm] taller than me and somewhat overweight.

James and Marcus would be my pick from this group, I decided as I washed my bottom taking great care that none of them were able to see the state of my hole; I had so brilliantly been fucked four times by David over a period of two hours only the day before. All I hoped for was Marcus being interested in fucking me too, or maybe I could do something with James. I sure wouldn't turn any of them away.

Twenty minutes later we trooped back to our dorm with moist towels and dirty underpants in hand, our teeth brushed; we were ready to go to sleep. And, regrettably, that was precisely what everyone did after a teacher popped his head in and told us to sleep well. I don't know what exactly I had hoped for, but going to sleep without even as much as a quick wank sure hadn't been in any of my daydreams.

One by one everyone in the dorm fell asleep until I was the only one awake. I thought about wanking my throbbing penis, but it just didn't seem right and I decided against it; I turned onto my side and shut my eyes.

I woke when I heard the boy in the bed next to mine got up; it took me about thirty seconds to remember that I wasn't at home any more. I checked my watch, it was only a quarter past six and I thought about going back to sleep when I heard more of my dorm mates getting out of bed. I stretched my body and yawned before I got up too. As always in the mornings, my prick was stiff and I had to discreetly cover it with my towel as I scurried along to the toilets. Thankfully, it went soft as I began to pee and remained that way while I brushed my teeth.

Classes at Hartswood were a bit of an eye opener to me; my classmates actually paid attention to the teachers and didn't try to disrupt anything. The masters [Teachers at Hartswood, nothing like masters and slaves] welcomed me curtly yet politely. The way they taught was quite different from what I had experienced earlier; here the students were far more involved, the master would ask a question and a student was picked out to respond.

The masters knew I was far behind and spared me from embarrassing myself in front of the whole class by not picking me out to answer one of their questions.

While I still resented school, though now mostly from the fact I was so far behind everyone else, Hartswood was a vast improvement to my previous schools.

Once the masters got the other students started doing assignments, they spent ten minutes with me trying to teach me the more basic stuff I should have learned in junior school, then went back to teaching the rest of the class again.

In maths I struggled to understand the arithmetic normally taught in junior school; even the youngest of the kids at Hartswood likely knew far more than I did, though I was in upper fourth, the senior year. I'd be better off with the nine or even the eight year-olds rather than the twelve year-olds in this class.

When the class was over, I lingered while the others left the classroom, then timidly suggested to Mr. Thompson that I should be moved to the first or second year maths class.

"It would seem like a good idea, Teddy," he told me, "but it isn't. Your presence in the junior year classes would be a cause for disorder. You've nothing in common with boys as young as they…"

I stopped listening when he said that. He's sort of right, physically I've nothing in common with the younger boys at school and my level of comprehension regarding maths has got to be by far worse than theirs. I turned my attention back to him again as he hadn't finished talking.

"Besides, you'll have to learn at a much quicker pace than normally. Don't worry," he continued, "I was meaning to talk to you about extra tuition. We'll start on that after you've had a chance to settle in. I'll be working with you exclusively for two hours a week in prep. We'll soon get you back on the right track."

James was waiting for me in the hallway when I left the classroom and he led the way back to our dorm so that we could pick up our games kit; the last class of my first day was games. And it wasn't just dodgeball or football, not even gymnastics; it was rugby! I had never played rugby before, never once been a spectator at a match.

Rugby was proper sports and as such I'd never taken an interest in it; Mum wasn't a sports fan and then neither was I. If anything, I loathed sports even more than I hated school; I couldn't quite imagine what it would be like being one of thirty something kids on a field all fighting for one odd-shaped ball.

Nevertheless, I remembered full well the feeble promise I'd made to Mr. Halford about my participation in games and gym and I put on my rugby kit like the rest of the boys. I padded out with them to the field and when Mr. Cooper, the games master, blew his whistle, I began warming up with the rest of the boys in upper fourth.

First we were made to run while swinging our arms about, this way and that, then run while we for each step lifted our knees as far into the air as they'd go. I did my best to do everything right for the entire ten minutes until Mr. Cooper blew his whistle again, assembling us in the middle of the pitch. A net with several of the odd-shaped balls was opened and quickly emptied as we were paired up two kids to one ball.

My partner for skills training was Owen Jeffries, another kid from my dorm. He was shorter than me and chubby, and I felt disappointed for not being able to train with James or Marcus, the two boys of my dreams. They were training a short distance from the rest us with a group of kids who all seemed to know what they were doing and looked quite happy about being on the pitch, unlike myself and Owen.

Owen isn't good at rugby at all, he's even more awkward than me, I noted when I threw the ball to him for the first time; he fumbled with it before he finally got it under control and was able to throw it back to me. I found it quite easy to catch the ball despite its odd shape, far easier than trying to catch a football or basketball.

"Well done, Teddy!" I heard Mr. Cooper's encouraging shout and immediately messed up when I tried to return it to Owen. I'd never been praised by any games teacher before and it took me by surprise.

We switched to practice kicks and I studied how one of the kids who knew how to play rugby kicked the ball before I tried to mimic him. Owen held our ball upright and I stepped about eight paces back from him. I misjudged the distance required and promptly tripped over my own feet when I tried to compensate for it in the last possible moment.

Fortunately Mr. Cooper didn't see me do that! I thought after I quickly got back up on my feet. Mr. Cooper was firm, though he was less fierce and a good deal more patient than Mr. Jenkins had ever been. No-one had witnessed my poor attempt at kicking the ball, except for Owen and he didn't comment.

Tackle practice with Owen proved to be a rather easy and slow affair; when I ran with the ball, I had to slow down for him to catch up with me before he could tackle me. When our roles reversed and Owen lumbered past me, I bent down low and wrapped my arms around his chubby legs like I saw Marcus do to the boy he trained with; just like they had, we immediately landed in a heap on the grass, my hand resting on Owen's bare thigh just below the hem of his shorts.

Finally I'm touching one of my dorm mates, I thought. It was okay, except that I didn't think Owen was cute at all. It would have been so much better if it was James or Marcus I had my hands on. I let him go without a second touch. The skin on his thigh was both hairless and soft, but I just didn't fancy the little chubby.

After half an hour of skills practice, Mr. Cooper called for us again. We were grouped into two teams for a game, both teams a mix of good and weaker players. Hah, I wasn't the last one to be picked this time! Unlike high school, the teams were picked out by Mr. Cooper, not two of the students, and I found myself facing James on the opposing team.

For the first five or six minutes I milled about aimlessly on my designated patch of the field; the ball never came anywhere near me. There's no possibility for me to catch or run with it. I wouldn't be caught dead in an attempt to kick the ball again.

This suits me perfectly fine, I remember thinking while I did my best to look like I was both motivated and participating; I had scarcely broken into a sweat since the beginning of the game and hoped that it would remain like that for the rest of the games lesson. And just then, it had to happen.

James collected a pass and began running towards the try-line. He would have to run right past me to get there and that's what he attempted to do. I was the only one between him and the line and I knew what I was meant to do; to tackle him. If it had been anyone else but James I probably wouldn't have bothered trying, but I wanted to. More than anything I want to tackle him to have a chance of feeling him up.

Well, I want to feel up Marcus too, but since we're on the same team now it'd be quite hard to explain if I were to tackle him! I quickly concluded as I readied myself.

Just when the time was right I started running; I went into the tackle much like I had with Owen, but there was a difference to tackling James, quite a big one; James was bloody quick and much stronger than he looked. As our bodies connected I attempted to wrap my arms around his legs and before I managed to get a proper grip, his knee came up.

"Yeoooow!" I miserably cried out when James' knee caught me in the face and immediately I let my body fall heavily onto the grass while I clutched my jaw. He broke it, I thought; there could be no other explanation for the pain was so excruciating.

James went on towards the try-line only stopping when Mr. Cooper blew his whistle. The games master reached me just as James did, and they crouched next to me.

"Let me look at it," I heard Mr. Cooper's quiet voice and then felt his fingers as he gently pried my hands from my jaw. Just as carefully he ran his finger along it all the way round.

"Nothing broken, as far as I can tell," he told me reassuringly, smiled and ruffled my hair. "You'll live!"

I worked my jaw. Maybe he's right about me going to live, but it will be with a bloody sore jaw for at least a few days. I just knew.

"So why did he get hurt just then?" I heard him ask the other lads who had gathered round us.

"Craig?" he said and pointed to a slim boy. His hair was almost as blonde as mine.

"He's right though," he continued and looked at me. "You were too hesitant; you didn't hit James hard enough to knock him out of his stride, so you got his knee in your face. But you did well; we've got boys here who wouldn't even have tried, so well done for having a go. Now we'll see how it should be done."

He tossed the ball to a tall, very athletic looking boy, who trotted back about twenty yards, turned and began to run towards us. A boy with mousey, collar-length hair was going to tackle him.

I could hardly believe it; the mousey haired boy was scarcely as big as me. As the tall boy approached, the smaller tackler ran in hard, ducked down low and hurled himself forwards, knocking the bigger lad off-balance. They landed on the grass much as I and Owen had done. When they got to their feet, Mousey-Hair was smirking; he obviously didn't have so much as a scratch on him.

"That's how you do it," Mr Cooper said approvingly. "You have to really commit to it. Toby was giving a lot of weight away there. He just went in as hard as he could. If he hadn't, he'd have got hurt just like you did."

"Yes, thanks sir," I said timidly; though my jaw was still smarting, the initial pain had faded a little.

"Right!" Mr. Cooper responded, smiling. "Well you know what jockeys do when they fall off, don't you?"

"Correct," Mr. Cooper said brightly. He turned back to me. "And that's what I'd like you to do. James will run along here again, like Robert just did, and I want you to tackle him, only this time you've got to go in hard. Okay?"

I nodded. I really would have liked to say no, but I didn't want to look like a softy in front of the whole class. In any case, I still wanted to tackle James so that I could feel him up a bit. I bloody well deserve that much, my jaw's still hurting!

Mr. Cooper tossed the ball to James who trotted along the touch line, turned to face us and began running.

"Wait till I say," Mr. Cooper said quietly, right into my ear. "Then really go for it. You can do it."

I ran forwards as fast as I could, focusing on James' legs, trying to blot out everything else, especially how nervous I was. I ducked low, drove my shoulder into his left thigh, hitting him much harder than I had the first time.

It was amazingly easy. My arms locked around James' thighs; a second later we landed quite painlessly on the grass, my head was on his tummy, so tantalisingly close to his private parts and my right hand still on his thigh, touching the hem of his shorts. As we got up, the other boys gave me a round of applause.

I couldn't help but grin as I felt my cheeks blush over. For once, I've actually done something right at a game! I could scarcely believe it.

I had a look around; this was my first chance to check out most of the boys in upper fourth. In this company my penis was nowhere near the biggest. Several of the boys were quite tall, like Marcus and Robert; most of them had big ones. Then I noticed a powerfully built boy a little shorter than myself. The lad had an absolute monster! It was the same size as David's, by far the biggest I had seen on a boy my own age.

Trying hard not to make it too obvious, I checked out some more. Most of the boys still had small ones, but mousey-haired Toby's was almost the same size as mine. Tall, lanky Craig's was quite long but very slim, just like the rest of him. I spotted a couple more that were showing signs of beginning to grow before I hurried back to my clothes, anxious to get dressed before I got an erection.

There are definite possibilities here, I told myself. There just has got to be.

P. Writer Hartswood Priory Teddy's Story

Category & Story codes

Summary

Characters

Disclaimer

Table of Contents

Chapter 1
Becoming a bookworm

Chapter 2
The worm grows

Chapter 3
David, my hero

Chapter 4
More surprises

Chapter 5
The great escape

Chapter 6
Fresh start

P. Writer Hartswood Priory Teddy's Story

Category & Story codes

Summary

Characters

Disclaimer

Table of Contents

Chapter 1Becoming a bookworm

Chapter 2The worm grows

Chapter 3David, my hero

Chapter 4More surprises

Chapter 5The great escape

Chapter 6Fresh start

Chapter 1
Becoming a bookworm

Chapter 2
The worm grows

Chapter 3
David, my hero

Chapter 4
More surprises

Chapter 5
The great escape

Chapter 6
Fresh start