` PZA: The Institution 13-16 PZA

Boy Stories

Backwoodsman

The Institution

Chapters 13-16

Chapter 13
Inspection

Colin was back in the room when we returned. He had brought my collection apparatus as well as his own, which was just as well since I had forgotten it.

"We've got to see how many times we can each come in a row," he explained.

"French thought that the fewer the people watching, and the more the stimuli, the better. So he's sent us all back to our rooms to experiment. I need a rest, so it's down to you two first."

"Come on, Jimmy. Do you feel like helping me come?" Obviously. He stripped off his clothes – I was still out of mine, which I'd managed to leave in the classroom. Before I had a chance to decide what to do he'd found the condom and the cream and was investigating. I sat on the bed. He took some of the cream on a finger, sniffed it, and shrugged.

"You'd better wipe that round my cock," I said.

Doing so gave me a quick erection, of course, so whilst that subsided a little he assembled the other parts. Colin watched with interest. When I was just about subsided enough, he worked the condom on to me and told me to lie back on the bed. Meekly I did so. Colin still watched. Jimmy arranged the apparatus between my legs, and then lay at my side, his head level with my belly. That brought his genital area level with my mouth, and my erection was immediately complete again. He started off massaging my testicles with his tongue and lips, and that really got me going. I asked him to put one leg either side of my head. This meant that I had all of his penis and formative testicles in my mouth, and soon his erection was tickling the back of my throat. It also meant that he had to use both hands to work on me, one on the testicles and one doing the real work on my penis. I didn't take long. Despite having already come once that morning the orgasm was intense and deep. Jimmy kept going just long enough, and as I recovered he milked the remnants out of my penis, giving it quite a number of firm, upward strokes. He carefully pulled the condom off me, and held it so the semen ran into the back. Then without a qualm he blew gently at the wide part of the condom; the semen ran down the tube, and the phial was full. Carefully he put a stopper on it, wrote my name on a label and fixed it on.

"Next!" he said. I watched him perform the same service for Colin, who had produced rather more than me the first time, despite the number of spectators. This time, the phial was full before he had finished ejaculating. Jimmy had the presence of mind to hold the other end of the tube in the air, and as Colin pumped out his final three stokes we watched the semen rise in little bursts up to the expansion chamber. I crossed to fetch a new phial from the box, and what followed was some quite involved plumbing as we made sure we lost as little of the precious fluid as possible. Its manufacturer just lay on the bed. We managed, and found there was another third of a phial as well after we had created a little air space in the first one to bring it to the same level as mine.

"Your turn," said Jimmy. He started me off again, but it took me a long, long time. He was very patient, and gave me plenty of stimulation on what he could touch of my penis and on my sensitive testicles, and also gave me himself to suck and lick and massage. He was working on me when he gave a gasp, and I swear if he had been only eighteen months older my mouth would have been full. After all, he had been under constant stimulation from first me, then Colin, then me again, for the last half hour or so, After his jerking was over, he rolled off me and lay beside me, breathing deeply. I was just about to finish of what he had started, when I felt Colin take over, and after the sight of Jimmy's dry orgasm and with Colin's penis swinging just by my face, I managed to come for the third time. The results were disappointing, though: only a quarter of a phial. Similarly, Colin's next turn gave quite a small offering, bringing his second phial to just over half. We both sank back, exhausted and thirsty.

"What about me?" asked Jimmy.

"Don't I get another go?" Colin and I exchanged glances across the bed. As one, we grabbed Jimmy and, tired though we were, tickled him unmercifully everywhere we thought would be sensitive. We finished off on the part that he wanted 'tickled', and although young and having recently come, he managed it again. Then we were all exhausted. The buzzer went. Reluctantly, and without bothering with clothes, we staggered back to the classroom with our offerings. Well over an hour had passed, and most of those we saw in there were in a similar condition to us. In turn we handed our full phials to Mr. French and told him how many times we had come. He seemed pleased, although Martin had produced very little, and had only come once more. We totted it up. Colin and I between us had earned £40 [$80/€50] and it wasn't lunchtime yet. Colin had another £10 [$20/€12.50] worth in an incomplete phial and I had about £5 [$10/€6.25] worth.

"Normal school after lunch, boys, and don't forget to drink a fair amount. This evening, before dinner, the buzzer will sound and you are to report to the little room at the side of the assembly hall. And make sure you are clothed from now on, please. Oh, except you, Barton."

The afternoon was uneventful except that we all felt like dropping off to sleep. We three joined the rest of our class in the anteroom, as directed. To our surprise the Principal came in, too, accompanied by a monitor with two boxes, which he put down on a table without a word.

"You are prompt, I see. Good. You will now change from your school clothes into those you will find in the box. Those who are sexually fully mature or whose voice has broken will use that box, the others will use the other one. If there is any doubt, I will judge. You will find different sizes in each, starting at the biggest. Queue up, in height order, at the correct box.

My voice had sunk so slowly I didn't know how it qualified. It sounded fairly broken to me, but I wanted to risk no punishment.

"Has my voice broken, Sir?"

"It's in the middle. There are more mature boys here than children, so you can go to the little ones' box."

I wished I hadn't asked. Children's box indeed! We found that the older ones ended up wearing stretchy jeans, very short, and a denim waistcoat. We supposed younger ones – there were only four of us – had wide legged PE shorts which were very brief indeed. In fact if I'd sat down I might just as well not bothered to wear them. They were made from a very thin, floppy cotton. For tops we had short-sleeved school shirts, again very thin, with very little material below the waistband. The Principal ensured we had suitable sizes. The monitor just ogled. When he was happy, the Principal told us that anyone talking from now on would receive a punishment. He left the room. We waited, standing in silence, for ages. I wasn't going to sit because I knew the shorts would ride up my thighs even further and expose me to the monitor's stare. Some of the others eventually did. There was a call from the other door, that led up onto the stage.

"Older ones, please."

The six of them rose and shambled into the lit staircase area. Before we remaining four had a chance to see what was up there the monitor shut the door behind them. We waited. And waited. The door opened again.

"Children, please."

Huh! We trooped out, up the steps into near-darkness. Then the lights came up and we found we were on the stage. Apart from the Principal it was empty. The stage lights were shining brightly straight at us and we couldn't see who was in the main hall, if anybody.

"Walk round in a circle," came the command. We did so.

"Stop."

Down to the front of the stage, face the hall."

"Sit down, with your knees up."

I couldn't tell, but I'm sure that exposed everything I'd got to whoever was out there.

"Stand up. Off the stage."

We returned to the anteroom. As soon as the door was closed the monitor said "No talk."

The Principal returned eventually with the older boys who had returned through the corridors to avoid the stage and auditorium.

"They want to see you, you, you and you," he said. One of the chosen was me.

"The others can go. Take off your special clothes and put them in the box again, and hurry."

He marshaled the four of us into descending height: there was Blondie, Colin, me and the other young one, Peter.

"Follow me. And when you get on stage, stand along the middle, facing the hall."

We trooped obediently after him, and found ourselves dazzled again. Under his direction we bent forward, backward, sideways, sat, lay, stood, stretched, smiled, frowned, tried to look appealing, tried to look scared… Then there was a voice from the audience: "that's the wrong one, that youngest one. It was the little one we wanted."

The voice came as a shock. Although I'd supposed there were people out there we were none of us certain until then. We couldn't see them over the bright lights in our eyes. Thank goodness, I thought, Jimmy will be with us. So they went and fetched Jimmy, who, because nobody had told him, came onto the stage, blinking like a startled bat, in his 'school' clothes. There was a silence from the hall. Then: "How old are you, boy?"

"Eleven, sir."

Silence.

"Take your clothes off."

I started. Why pick on Jimmy? "Sir," I asked the Principal quietly, "wouldn't it be fairer if we all did?"

"Silence," he hissed back.

"They know what they want."

I suppose Jimmy was inured to it by now, and he quite quickly stripped and stood in front of the bright lights, completely naked. There was a whistle from the hall.

"Good, very good. Now you, the blond one. Take yours off."

He was almost proud to do so, probably rightly as his musculature was so impressive.

"Hmmm. Now you, the younger one that's left. And do it a bit slowly, as if you're reluctant, will you?" As if? I was reluctant! I slowly undid the shirt buttons, and paused for a brief moment, looking straight to where the voices came from, with the shirt swinging loose around me. Then I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of the shorts and eased them down onto my belly, showing it off, but still hiding everything else. Grasping the loose sides of the legs I gathered the cloth together, tightening it over myself to show what little bulge I could muster, then slowly pulled downwards, allowing the penis to pop over the top first, then my long testicle scrotum… I eased them over my feet and stood up, the shirt still hanging round me. I eased the arms out as sensually as I could, having frequently seen the pose struck by strippers in my real school friends' dirty magazines. The shirt slipped finally off my shoulder on the floor, and I stood there naked with, I'm proud to say, the beginnings of an erection. Silence. More silence. Then muttering.

"Last one. See if you can do as well."

Sensuality was not Colin's game. He turned three-quarters to the hall and looked at Jimmy, who was next to him. Encouraged by my acting, he motioned with his eyes to his waistcoat and Jimmy meekly obliged. He turned, and the boy slipped it off his shoulders. Then he looked down at the zip on his shorts, and the boy slowly unbuckled him at the waist. I heard him whisper "Stop! Look at it."

Obediently Jimmy looked at the zip, and it was bulging. Unbidden he ran his fingers down to the crotch, and stopped, looking up at his friend. He nodded, and Jimmy very slowly, pausing frequently and taking away his hand for all to see the increasing view, drew the zipper down. Colin was so aroused by this that even at its lowest all that was visible was curly black hair starting from a straight line, and the root of a wide penis that was holding the material away from his thigh. Jimmy pulled on the bottom of the shorts, and they gradually descended, exposing centimeter upon centimeter of shaft, and the outspread testicles behind. When finally he reached the start of the bulb he paused again, then pulled, allowing the restricted organ to escape, to straighten, to stand. He swiftly pulled down, Colin stepped free, and his penis seemed to dance in time with the movement. There was an expulsion of breath from the hall. We were told to pick up our clothes and follow the Principal off the stage. As we left we heard an explosion of talking, and thought we might have been quite effective… The Principal watched us dress in normal clothes again in silence.

"What made you two do that?" He asked, eventually.

"He asked me to strip slowly, sir, so I did."

I said.

"Well sir," said Colin, "you told us we had the opportunity to make money out of all this, so I thought that if I made myself as attractive as possible I might get a part in whatever it is they want to do."

"I think you succeeded. I've never heard them react like that, though."

He sounded human for a minute.

"When you are seen by the club people tomorrow I advise against being so forward, though. They might offer you employment beyond your training, and it would not be politic for me to tell them you're not trained fully when you act so experienced. Be careful with them. That's all. You may go."

Naturally we discussed this all the way to dinner, and beyond. I had forgotten all about my extra lesson, and about keeping myself peeled. After the meal, instead of retiring to the pool, we thought we'd try to make some more money, and went to the bedroom. As the formula of last time seemed to work well, and Jimmy was keen to play, that's what we did. I nearly filled my second phial, and Colin managed to get a similar way up his third. We were doing all right! At the pool I found a monitor waiting for me. As I hadn't bothered with clothes I was a bit worried when he just pointed at me and said "Come!" He followed me along the passages to our classroom, and I could feel his eyes boring into my bum as my buttocks moved. In the classroom was Mr French.

"You failed to arrive for your extra lesson. Why?" I explained about the appointment on stage and dinner and what we had done afterwards.

"Not good enough. Lessons come before profit. I was here to check, and have sent Billy away. You will have me to contend with now. Come with me."

He led me straight to the shower. I remember Billy saying there were no cameras in there and was suddenly worried again. He handed me a jar of the cream which we had all been given as lubrication.

"Rub it on your penis, mainly over the foreskin."

Doing so gave me the usual erection. He switched on one of the showers, quite softly, and motioned to me to stand underneath.

"Stand so the water hits your genitals."

I adjusted both down and up jets to suit.

"Roll back your foreskin."

Very cautiously I did so. It was less difficult with the cream, but the force of the water was painful. I moved so it didn't hit me square on.

"No. Move back."

"Sir, it hurts."

"It will. If you put up with a little pain now it will save you trouble later."

I moved back, and just let the water play on it. Gradually the pain lessened, and it began to feel quite pleasant. I looked round to the teacher, and found, to my horror, that he was getting undressed.

"Whaat… ?" I faltered.

"I told you you'd now have me to contend with."

He finished by taking off his underpants, which I noticed were quite tight. I remembered thinking they needed to be in his job if he wasn't to show an erection every five minutes. He was certainly showing one now. All in all it was not attractive. He was quite trim, but too old to be attractive to me. But nevertheless he came up to me and took the shower hose above me from its fixing.

"Hold still, boy, so the water hits your tip from below."

He trained the spray on my chest, down to my belly, and then down my left leg. Then he switched to the right. Then suddenly he pointed it straight at my testicles, and from there onto my exposed glans. I nearly jumped through the roof, but he held me firmly by the shoulder and pulled me back over the up shower again. Having the spray trained on me while he held me was the only way I could stand still. Once again, gradually, the unpleasantness grew less and I grew more still. He reached over and increased the force of the shower. Once again I jumped. This time he stood in front of me, holding my shoulder with one hand and the shower with the other. His erection was still there, and unpleasantly close. Once again, it became bearable, although I began to feel that I needed a pee. I said so.

"If you want to, then do. Here. If it hits me then so be it."

He held the shower so it hit be just at the back of the glans, with some force, and immediately I knew I could hold on no longer. My stream from the half erect penis hit him just above his, and dribbled down his legs. I didn't know what to do. There was nothing I could do. I just let it all come. Once again he increased the force, and this time the temperature as well. Once more I had to stand there and get used to it. At last he reached over and turned the water off. I was about to move away, but he held my shoulder again. His other hand grasped my testicles and gently massaged, then went to the root of my shaft and pulled gently up it. He never stopped when he came to the roll of skin under the bulge, just dragged his fingers over the exposed flesh until they came together at the top. It was not nearly as painful as I thought it was going to be. He stood there, very much aroused. In a shaky voice he said: "If I asked you to masturbate me, please, what would you say?" I was completely taken by surprise. I just looked at him, and wondered if this was a trick of some sort.

"Look," he said, "it's just like yours, or your friends'. There's no difference to it."

There was. It was attached to someone I didn't like very much, who had shown he was vaguely human only twice.

"Must I, sir?" I asked at last.

"You needn't, but I hope you will. You see, I love you. I'm attracted to all the others, but I love you."

This was too much. I looked at him again, and said: "I'm sorry. Can I go now, please?" The look of disappointment on his face almost made me change my mind.

"Yes. But Gaston…" I paused.

"Despite everything you may believe about me, I care. I do this job because I can get no other in Britain. It hurts me when you have to do things which… well, some of the things we teach you to do. But at least you'll be able to support yourselves at the end of it. And that's really all I stand a chance of doing, now. Yes, you may go. And if you believe what I have just told you, say nothing of this to anyone."

The trouble with being young is that when someone catches you with a request like that, you do what they say. Because you've been brought up to obey, and they start the order with 'if you believe me,' or 'if you really love me,' or something else to which the answer is obviously 'yes'. If he'd just said 'don't tell anyone', I obviously would. I felt under an obligation now. I returned to the bedroom and lay there, confused. If I had made him come, would that have been the end of it? Would I be able to go through with it anyway? And what if he wanted more in the future? Then I thought back to what he had said, and how genuine he had been. And then I heard his footsteps pass the door. Was I being stupid? I rushed to the door, looked out. His back view was just disappearing along the passage, fully clothed by now.

"Sir…" I squawked. The footsteps stopped. He waited, and I thought he had reverted to his teacher's mode. Slow steps retraced towards me. I saw he was looking at me, up and down – I wondered at this; after all, he had seen me naked many times before. Now I know that seeing something desirable in quantity is nothing compared with seeing it solo, with no distractions. I must have presented quite a picture to him, framed in the door, looking as if I was about to import some tremendous news. His voice was unsteady: "Yes?"

"Yes, sir. I'll do it for you."

He just looked at me. I began to think I'd dreamed the whole thing and was about to get a punishment. Then: "Paul…" he seemed to savour my name, the first time he'd used it.

" … Paul… it's too late tonight. But tomorrow, if you still will, after the lesson which I'll give you again… ?"

"Yes, sir."

Swiftly he walked to me, pulled me into the corridor, kissed me on the lips and ran his hands once down my buttocks. Then he turned swiftly and walked away. Although he was old, about forty, what he had said and done excited me. I was aroused. Soon I had filled another quarter of the phial. I joined them at the pool afterwards. They were relieved to see me, and not in any pain. Funny, I couldn't think of much to say. I was even quiet when we finally got to bed, and declined Jimmy's offer to produce some more for the collection, although Colin the semen factory made his phial overflow. Even Jimmy's playful hands as I settled down to sleep brought only a small response from my body, and he gave up in disgust.

Chapter 14
Second Inspection

I slept so soundly that I remembered nothing until the buzzer sounded in the morning. Jimmy was already working on Colin, producing the first offering of the day: yet another phial was well on the way to being filled. I felt more communicative than the night before. My subconscious mind had filed away the unusual events, and although I was not really looking forward to the extra lesson, hey, it was a long way off yet. I wondered if I had time to make some, but by the time Colin had been finished Jimmy and I would have been too late for a shower. It didn't seem right just to do it on my own. So we went to the shower room, and I had to content myself with Jimmy's fondling of me as he gave me the usual all-over soaping. I walked back to the bedroom erect and proud, as did he. We three were alone at breakfast. It was interesting to see who else had palled up with whom. There were some unlikely couples, including the two heterosexuals, who seemed not to be talking too much. My two partners asked me about the night before. They were worried that I had been kidnapped by the monitor! I told them that Mr French had taken matters into his own hands – literally – and the lesson had gone on rather a long time. From the knowing looks they exchanged I wondered if they had seen or heard what happened afterwards, but the grins and the sarcastic comments about having enjoyed it told me it was the usual schoolboy smut humour which would have abounded in any normal school, but which hadn't been much in evidence here, for obvious reasons.

"Did he make you come?" asked Colin.

"What's his willy look like?" asked Jimmy. I answered no, it was too uncomfortable for that and 'bigger than yours' respectively. And that shut them up. I said nothing about his request, or that I had agreed to it. Thinking about it, and my assignment of later, aroused me, for some reason. I hoped they'd put the bulge in my shorts down to adolescence. We all presented our phials at the first lesson of the day. The labels were carefully checked by Mr French. Did I imagine his hand shook as he took mine? We three were complimented on our achievement: the two heterosexuals were told they had to do better if they wanted to make any worthwhile money.

"Now what we need are the photographs to go on them," he continued.

"The people we use are setting up in the other room. What you each need to do is to decide how you want to appear, what image of you is going to persuade people to buy your goods. Some of you I can probably guide. Others will have to try various poses to see what comes over best. We do trial runs on a digital camera, then the real thing on film. There's no charge for these, by the way, the photographer sells them to a web site."

Hang on… did that mean that erotic photographs of me would be circulating throughout the world? But little plaques with my photo and semen would be available in the shops anyway. How was being on the net any worse? I just had to get used to the idea, just as I had nearly got used to the idea of being naked in the school. I was almost starting to look forward to the challenge of making myself walk out of the bedroom now, and didn't think next Wednesday's ordeal would be that bad.

"You'll go in all together and watch each other, in case that gives you any ideas. What you do is up to you – there are no poses barred. For example if you want to be taken as you have an orgasm then that's fine. So follow me. Oh, Barton, if you need some clothes for your shot, borrow them off someone else. You're allowed to do that. Most people are shot without, though."

I had no idea what I was going to do. I was still amazed that anybody found my body remotely attractive, although the low-swinging testicles were a bit exotic, I supposed. By the time it came to my shot I was almost convinced that I wanted at least one of the other two in it with me. In a flash it came to me that poor little Jimmy was going to be left out again, since alone of all of us he could produce no semen at all. I looked for him, and found him huddled in a corner, trying to disappear.

"I want you," I whispered to him.

"You've got to photographed holding me as if I'm coming in your mouth. Then we can share the profits."

It was worth halving my potential earnings just to see the look on his face. Astonishment, gratitude, and then a rare genuine smile of … what? Love? Something very different from the usual impudent grin. I told the photographer what I wanted. He said something to a monitor who translated.

"He say you silly. You have give little boy money. What you want, him bum?" Mr French said quietly to him: "Silence."

Then to me: "He's right, you know. It means you'll have to share the money. It's your semen, so it'll have to be about 20%."

"I'd give him half," I said.

"But can you tell the photographer I don't want his bum, please."

To give him credit, he did. We stripped off our clothes and got into position, with me lying face up and Jimmy sitting cross-legged by my side, overlapping my outstretched legs.

"That's not really very good," said Mr French.

"Try this. Separate you legs, Paul…" He checked, realising he'd used my first name in public. He forced himself on, sounding as natural as possible.

"… then Jimmy can sit between them, facing you, and you can hold each other's penis. If you then get him erect, Jimmy, and bend over with your mouth open you can make it look as if you're catching the semen in your mouth."

We tried it. When we saw it on the computer monitor it really looked quite effective, and I found myself reacting physically to it.

"You're not stiff," I told Jimmy.

"You'll have to work harder on me," he retorted. The different poses people tried were amazing, some of them. Colin was very quiet throughout all this, as were most of the older ones. His turn came last, for some reason.

"Sir, can Paul and Jimmy stay and have mine done alone, please?" he asked.

"I suppose so. All right, the rest of you. The last twenty minutes of the morning in your room or the classroom, filling phials, I suggest. Go."

When it was just the three of us, Mr French, the monitor / translator and the photographer he explained.

"Sir, I want the three of us in it. I want to be coming, and I want Jimmy licking at me down there, and I want Paul with his in my mouth."

"We can't do that! That means splitting the money three ways. It's not on."

"I don't want any money from it, sir. Split it between Jimmy and Paul."

So it was done. We had all been naked in front of these people for so long that morning that the initial reticence had worn off. We got into position, Jimmy started work on Colin. I watched, penis erect, ready to offer myself to the older boy's mouth when he signalled, which he did quite soon. The feel of his tongue around my organ was so exciting, as always, that my foreskin started pulling back with the ferocity of my erection. The extra lessons were obviously having an effect! We were all three wet by the time Colin said "Now!"…"Now!"…"Now!"…"Now!"…"Oh!…" and sank into a sweaty, moaning silence. It was just as well he had decided against an trial action shot on the digital camera. The monitor was told to leave, and walked out with an amazingly big bulge in his trousers. I felt as though I needed to fill a phial in one go. Jimmy's eyes were shining. Colin looked bedraggled and exhausted.

"Well done, lads. Lunch," said Mr French. But there were things we all had to do first. We steered Colin back to the bedroom and he flopped onto the bed. Jimmy and I lay side by side, and fondled and masturbated each other to relieve the sexual tension that had built up over the morning. I was probably nearly there the first time when Jimmy remembered the apparatus and, hard though I was, pushed it over me to waste nothing. A further few minutes and … Well, I didn't fill it, but I did as well as Colin's first attempt. And at thirteen! I was very proud. We were late for lunch. We were interrupted while we were chatting in the canteen by the Principal, who told all we new ones to be in the anteroom to the assembly hall at 2.00.

"Come dressed," he said. We found Billy in there, in charge, with a monitor hovering.

"The people from the clubs who employ us are here early," he explained "That means you'll miss some of this afternoon's real school. They want to see you, how you move, how good looking you are, and how you're built. Oh, and what your level of training in the arts of sex is. Leave that to the Principal to sort out. They won't make you do anything you can't, and what you wear is color coded so everybody knows what you can do."

This alarmed me. I didn't want to go and perform in a club. It was bad enough showing off my body here, but to do it again in public, with strange, clothed people, well! "You'll go in there in a minute, individually, then out the other side into the other anteroom. You'll find me over there, and I show you what to change into. When you're out there, look happy, look sexy, and make sure that you walk slowly all the way. You go twice around the inside of the circle of chairs, more if they ask for it. If anyone asks you to go to him, do it, and stand right by him, touching him with your thighs or whatever is at the right height to touch him. If you get an erection, so much the better: flaunt it. They're allowed to touch you, by the way, wherever they want, and you must do what they ask. If they ask you to do something you can't, the Principal will intervene."

They sent in the two older heterosexuals first, of whom Martin was extremely reluctant. It was only when the large monitor started to move toward him that he darted through the door. I was about in the middle, just before Jimmy. I found myself heading into the hall between circle upon circle of chairs, all full. This was more than I bargained for. I was still very shy, and such a large number of people made me quake. I knew I had to go through with it, though; the thought of the monitor next door was enough to persuade me. So I walked as normally as I could between the chairs and out into a circle of clear floor about twenty feet [6 m] wide in the middle of the hall. I remembered to walk slower. As to having an erection, if anything I was having the opposite. My entire genitals were trying to retreat into me with the embarrassment. I completed the circuits and was just about to leave when a voice called: "Boy!" Reluctantly I turned toward the sound. A middle aged man was beckoning to me. I walked over to him and only stopped when my thigh was touching his. He looked up at me, appraisingly, then down at my baggy school shorts.

"Turn round, please."

I turned slowly, a complete circle.

"No, stop with your back to me."

I turned half way, wondering what he was going to do, scared.

"Walk forward two meters [6½ feet], turn and face me, and sit on the floor, knees bent."

This, of course, made the thin shorts ride up my thighs. I had no idea what they showed. But it seemed to satisfy him, for he thanked me, I got up, and went. I hoped Jimmy would be all right. In the anteroom I found Billy and another monitor. Billy wasted no time, but stripped off my T-shirt and shorts, and handed me something that looked like a large, but thin, white table napkin, together with a black belt.

"Put the belt on," he said. I did. He found the place on the belt that he wanted, above the centre of my right thigh, and started tucking one of the long sides of the napkin up between me and the belt. He worked along the front, around my left thigh, and across my bum. The material ended half way over the right buttock. Effectively, I suppose I was technically decent. Almost all my right thigh was open to the world, and of course my right buttock. As I walked the cloth swung round – it ended just below my unrestricted penis which, of course was also swinging. If I walked normally, every time the right leg came forward the cloth swung away, exposing some of my genital area. I was to all intents and purposes nearly naked in front, and if I moved either thigh too far it left very little to the imagination. But Billy took no notice of my discomfiture, slapped me gently on the rump and told me to return via the passage to the first anteroom. I wasn't surprised to find another monitor outside the door to escort me. I rejoined the group, who were all similarly 'dressed'. I started to talk, but the monitor shut me up. The thought of going out like this in front of all those people made me very anxious indeed. I waited, miserably, as one by one they were called on. Three had gone in, in slow succession, when the outside door opened and Jimmy came in. He had been crying. I rushed over to him and embraced him, whispering "What's the matter?"

"Silence!" said the monitor. I shot an angry glare at him and held Jimmy the tighter.

"What did they make you do?"

"Silence!" hissed the monitor again and moved towards us.

"Can't you see he's unhappy? What have they done to him?"

"They laughed at the size of my willy," he said, " and made me show it all round."

"Silence!" hissed the man again, and raised his hand. Now I am far from brave. If there is trouble I will go and crawl into a corner until it's over, even if that hole is the metaphorical one of sitting motionless at my school desk while war rages around me. But Jimmy… I loved. I had promised that I would stand up for him. I pushed him away from the monitor.

"You hit him, and punishment or no, I hit you. Go pick on someone your own size, you ugly bully."

His face changed: I don't think anyone had talked to him like that before. It changed like an overcast day suddenly becoming thunderous, with all the evil shaped black clouds that brings to mind. I was just waiting for the lightning to strike when I was called into the hall. Thinking quickly, I bundled Jimmy before me, just to get him out of the man's way, but forgetting that, once inside, there would be no escape from the circle of interest. I had my hand on his shoulder as we entered, and because I needed the comfort of the physical contact I kept it there as we walked the gauntlet of the chairs to the 'circus ring' at the middle. I had forgotten all I had been told about looking cheerful, or being sexy, and whatever else Billy had told me. As my anger blossomed, my confidence grew out of measure with my state of clothing or earlier state of mind. I looked round, not at chairs, but at faces, trying to fathom the sort of man who would enjoy humiliating a child in such a way. We got to the circle and I stopped, bringing Jimmy to a stand also, pulling him back to my side.

There were two of us, against the world. Even there, my stupid, inconsequential brain thought of early Christians in front of Caesar, about to be torn to pieces by the lions. The idea, and the knowledge that there were no lions, did wonders for my courage, and I just looked round the ring. Jimmy stood there, looking absolutely worn and degraded: thinking back now, had I been one of the audience I would have scooped him up and carried him of to somewhere safe, just on the grounds of that expression. Feeling very virtuous I continued my scornful search of the eyes, then, keeping Jimmy on my left, toward the middle of the circle so his bare thigh was more or less hidden by my body, I slowly walked round twice, as required. It must have been impressive for there was absolute silence. I got to where I was before, and the same man said again:

"Boy!" I froze to the spot, and with all the adult hauteur I could muster I swung round to him and looked at him with the most supercilious stare I could muster. Jimmy swung round behind me. I bent to him and said loudly: "they have seen you. Go back into the room," and gave him a push toward the safety of the anteroom. Happy that he had been allowed to escape I turned back to the man, suddenly a bit less confident, and stood a meter [3 feet] away from him, still looking steadily at him.

"Come here, boy."

I approached him, as before, but didn't touch his thigh.

"Let's see what you're made of."

I just stood there. He reached out to me to grab at my covering. I jumped out of the way. A door opened and shut. I took no notice.

"If you want me naked, you'll have to take your clothes off too," I said. A murmur ran round the hall.

"Gaston!" came a voice I knew.

"Strip. Now."

It was the Principal.

"Sir, why did they make Jimmy cry?"

"What?"

"Jimmy came from here crying. He's only eleven. Why did they bully him?"

"Wait."

I could hear speech, but not words. Then he came out into the circle and looked around, rather as I had done.

"Gentlemen, I asked you, when I had to leave, to conduct yourself normally. That has not happened. Who, and why I will discover. Whether I can correct the reverse to our training of the child I don't yet know. But what happened was out of order under our normal agreed codes."

"Oh come on," a voice called.

"We need boys, not infants in nappies."

The Principal wheeled round to the voice and the chorus of agreement.

"It was to your establishment that a dangerous molester came last week, and your attitude since has been one of carelessness for the young man who may have been badly damaged. Now this. I am not confident that there is any safety in your club for these boys, and am not prepared to provide any more to you. Please will you leave."

There was a silence. Then the first voice called, mockingly: "what you going to do, call the police?" There were laughs around him at that. I could see the Principal's face. It was smiling thinly.

"No," he said, and felt in his pocket. He drew out a whistle and blew it. At once alarms went off all round us. I suppose the whistle must have been on a special tone which made something react. Anyway, all the doors around the hall opened, and what must have been the institution's entire staff of monitors were there. They must have practised this, for the efficiency with which they rounded up the undesirables who were pointed out to them was astonishing. There were some of them who looked really worried at being manhandled by theses ugly, bulky men, and I wondered what they knew that I didn't. Eventually, with some alarmed shouts in the distance, the hall quietened down. The Principal was still standing in the centre, I was still a meter [3 feet] from the man who had told me to strip.

"Gentlemen, and you, Gaston, that was regrettable. If it caused you distress I apologise. I imagine that club will be changing hands soon, if any of you are interested."

He crossed to me.

"Fetch the small boy back here."

I was only too glad to leave the hall, but as to going back, well. By this time my bravado had vanished. It did look as if I had been right to do as I did, though. Jimmy was there, weeping in Colin's arms, but the latter almost dropped him as I came through the door. He almost ran to me, but stopped and said simply: "Are you all right? What have they done to you?" I told him I was fine, and crossed to Jimmy, who was looking wide eyed at me. I put my arms round him.

"It's all right. They've got rid of the men who laughed at you. The Principal called the monitors, and they've taken them somewhere to deal with them."

I didn't actually know that, but it would show Jimmy they didn't just leave.

"They're not going to put any of us in that club any more. We're all safer, and it's all thanks to you."

"More like to you," said Colin quietly, behind my back. I could see it wasn't wasted on Jimmy.

"They want you back, with me," I continued.

"I think he wants to apologise."

It was that word which persuaded him, I'm sure. As we walked back he looked nowhere but at the floor, and sniffed from time to time. I walked back to the Principal and looked him in the face.

"I will repeat what I just said, boy. What happened should not have done. The people concerned have been… removed, and we shall not be seeing them again. I am sorry."

A face with very red rimmed eyes lifted to his for an instant, and then dropped again.

"You may go."

We started walking.

"Not you, Gaston."

I jerked to a halt. Jimmy walked two more paces, then stopped too. I turned.

"You were being spoken to by one of your clients. He wants to see if you will be acceptable in his club."

The man who wanted me to strip. By this time I just wanted to get it all over with. I walked back to the man and stood at his thigh, hands on hips. He looked at me, then beyond me. I was aware of a presence beside me, also standing at the man's thigh. A face looked at me, then at the man. He reached down to the buckle of his black leather belt, the one that was holding up the cloth which was all there was between him and nudity. In his case it was little more than a large pocket handkerchief. He fiddled with the buckle. And released it, and stood there, naked. Very quickly, I did the same. Tears welled into my eyes. Through a mist I looked again at the man.

"You'll do," he said.

Chapter 15
Mr. French

I couldn't trust myself to speak as we collected our clothes and Colin, and made our way to the room as it was too late by then to go into classes. We closed the door against the world, and I threw myself onto the bed and just lay there.

"Come on, then, what happened?" asked Colin.

"There were people milling about all the afternoon, but towards the end it got frantic. I know it somehow involved you two, but I don't know how, 'cos we hardly coincided at all."

Neither of us spoke.

"Please?" he insisted. So I pulled myself together and told him the full story. He was incensed.

"You should have called me!" he kept on saying. I stopped talking when we got to the bit where I had told to strip, and Jimmy looked at me anxiously. I never knew that biting your lip, like you read in books, is the instinctive thing to do to stop yourself from crying. I thought it was just something writers say. It works, up to a point. Colin looked at me, realizing there was something wrong and was with me in two bounds, his strong arms round me in a hug.

"What did they do to you?" he whispered.

"When I get out of here…"

"No," I gulped, "it wasn't that. Jimmy had come in with me and … he… stripped himself so I wouldn't be alone."

And with that I broke down completely. Until I arrived at The Institution it must have been years since I had really let myself go when crying – not that I had had much reason to cry for years anyway. But the strain, the surroundings, the unspecified and unpleasant events and actions I was anticipating, the summons on what little courage I have, and the ridicule we had all suffered today, and the love of my two friends: all had taken their toll on my emotions. But what my little Jimmy had done for me had affected me most of all. I think we collapsed on the bed as a trio at some point, and I was being embraced from both sides. It was all quite non-sexual for a change as we were all dressed. But as my emotions subsided I knew it was a great comfort to have them there, as comforting as a parent would have been. We must have spent about an hour lying together, either talking softly or in silence, or dozing. It was all rudely interrupted by the door opening, and there was Mr. French.

Colin was on his feet in a second, standing between the door and us. I think he was trying to make up for not having been there when we needed him earlier. The teacher was quite startled by his sudden reaction, and blinked. I remembered my extra lesson, and then a split second later I remembered my promise. Although I was still unwilling in some ways to do what I had said, I was sorry for the man, and at least after today he was one of the people who were familiar to me, and someone I was used to being naked in front of. I followed Colin to the floor, grinned weakly at Mr French, and said I was sorry if I was late again.

"Do you want me to come down as well?" asked Colin. Normally I would have let him, although the manipulations and discomfort of my penis were something I would rather endure alone apart from the 'operator'. So I said I'd be all right, and now I had rested for an hour I felt all right. I followed the teacher down to the shower room, where he locked the door for my privacy as I was manipulated.

"Strip," he ordered, and started doing so himself. When we were both naked he was about to hand me the cream again when he changed his mind.

"Stand in front of me."

I stood about a meter [3 feet] from him, Aware that he was looking at every square inch of my body. The knowledge made me erect again, and I blushed, squirming inside with embarrassment. Then I saw that he was also getting bigger, and soon his penis was jutting out from him like a handle. It was unremarkable, neither attractive nor unattractive. He was slim, hairier than Colin, and more angular. But he wasn't too wrinkled, nor did he appear dirty. He took the jar in his hand, dug some out and motioned me forward. I took a step towards him. He bent to his knees, took me in his hand, and smeared the cream along my erection. Taking the covered glans inside a ring made of thumb and forefinger he massaged it well into the foreskin, and made sure I was covered with it further down. Then he grasped the foreskin firmly, and gently peeled back. I was expecting pain, especially with a hard erection, but I got none. A little discomfort, but no pain. Just as gently he took my exposed glans between finger and thumb. That was… well, not painful exactly, but I knew I'd been touched. He rubbed more cream into that, then rolled the foreskin back up.

He stood up, penis bobbing, and walked me over to the shower, where he stood me under the jet as before. This time he stood behind me, and with an arm over my shoulder to keep me still he once again grasped the foreskin. With the force of the jets both up and down playing on the glans, he pulled the foreskin fully back, then replaced it, back and replace, quite slowly. Each time the water hit me I tried to jerk away with the shock, and soon I felt that he had brought himself nearer to me at the back to stop me moving out of the jet. His penis was resting up the cleft between my buttocks., and every time I winced I could feel it pushing closer in to me. It sounds awful, but it was a nice feeling. I just wish it had been Colin. After a few minutes of this he pulled me out of the water, looked at my face, then bent down to my genitals.

"I'll put some more cream on," he said, "and round the back."

I was anointed on and under the foreskin again, then he disappeared behind me. He dug some more cream out, then placed two fingers at the bottom of my spine, just where the cleft starts. He stroked down, separating my bottom as he did so, then stopped and did it again, deeper in this time. When he got to the bottom his fingers went right under me, one either side of the beginnings of my testicles. He withdrew them. I wondered what he was about. The next application of cream was even deeper into my cleft, and between my legs at the base, then I felt his finger rest in the cleft, pointing down it.

"Paul, I'm going to start to open your bottom," he whispered.

"I'll try not to hurt, but you must try too, because if you clench your muscles it will. Try to relax, like you were on the toilet."

"Sir… no… please. I need the toilet."

"Oh. Oh, all right. Go, but come back. We're still in the middle of the lesson."

I unlocked the door and escaped to the toilets next door. While I sat there – I hadn't been lying – I tried to think straight. Was he right to do this? Was I right to let him? Did I want an adult, a master, doing this to me? Should I let it happen in a lesson? Should we try it again in the bedroom now we had some lubrication? I knew I had to go back into the shower, although now I had emptied my guts the pressure on my prostate was less and I wasn't feeling nearly so in need of an orgasm. I didn't know how to stop the man doing what he wanted without opening myself for punishment or making myself unpopular with him, which probably amounted to the same thing. So I made up my mind I'd go for it, and once the decision was made it didn't seem quite so bad. I swung next door to the showers, and found him standing where I had left him, looking anxious. His face cleared as I turned and locked the door and walked purposefully over to him.

"Sir, I think you'd better put some more of that cream in me. Most of it's on the toilet paper."

I bent down, to make it easier for him.

"Stand up," he said in a shaky, husky voice. I did. He turned me round, put both arms round me, and kissed me. His penis was pressing against mine, and the feel of it made me start to react again, as it did him.

"Oh Paul," he whispered, "oh, Paul."

How could I tell him my heart had already gone out to people; that it had gone out two ways already? There wasn't enough love left in me for him, especially not for him. I was doing this because I had to. It was just that my body didn't know the difference. When he had had enough of that he moved round to the back of me, I bent again, and he smeared more of the cream deep between my buttocks. He found the muscular opening, and was particularly keen about smearing that. Once I had got used to the idea and feeling of his finger there it wasn't too bad, almost sexy, but I wish it had been Colin or Jimmy doing it. He grew more and more specific about the one spot, and then, still rubbing, said: "Paul, I'm going to open it up for you now. Relax completely. Use your muscles as if you were going to the toilet again."

His finger stayed stationery on the spot, then gradually it started to push in. I could feel myself pushing against it, and sure enough he told me to relax, to make a conscious effort to relax my muscle, to let go as I did in the toilet. Somehow I managed it, and his finger penetrated further before I clammed up again.

"Relax!" he called. Again, that effort, and I felt him enter me up to the end of his finger, his knuckles touching my buttocks. It was an odd feeling, as it had been when we practiced in the bedroom. But what he did next was a stranger feeling. He pulled his finger out, slowly, fortunately, then held two against me and pushed. That was too much. I said "No… no!" and pulled forward, standing up. He grabbed me and pulled me back.

"Let me try. Just a little way. It's no more painful than one finger, and it'll help you."

I must be soft in the head, because I slowly bent down again. He quickly found his target, and slowly pushed, urging me to relax. Each time he pushed, I tensed, he told me to relax again, I did so… Each time I felt it widening a little more. Soon he had both fingers inside.

"Good, good. Now, relax completely. Really let yourself go. Don't strain, but you're sitting on the toilet and you're just letting go. If you want to piss, then do it."

The younger you are, the easier it is to flop. There comes an age when you can choose which muscles to flop, which is just as well, as otherwise you'd just fall over when you did so. I flopped all the muscles around my middle – or at least that's what it felt like – and could feel the pressure on my anus decrease as the muscle really gave way. He slowly spread his fingers wide, elongating the hole. Along with a stab of pain and a feeling of being ripped apart, I felt another finger join them. Three! How could he do that? How could I accept it? I tensed right up, trying to expel everything that was in there. The pain increased to an intolerable level as I did so, and a shout rang from my white face. He slowly withdrew all three fingers and I stood upright, shaking slightly, still in pain, all traces of erection gone, an ache deep within my buttocks. I turned round, looking at him. I don't know what was on my face, but I felt betrayed, angry, used. Had he been one of my own it would probably have ruined our friendship, but then I couldn't conceive of Jimmy or Colin doing something like that; nor, so far as I knew, would the more experienced Billy. But then this man wasn't my friend. Any approaching feeling of sympathy for him had vaporized. The teacher must have read in my face some of my feelings, for his eyes slipped away from mine.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"That was too much, too soon."

"Could I have some soap, please? I need to get this stuff off me."

I was no longer standing on ceremony. It was a struggle even to be civil to someone who started off by 'helping' and ended by giving me real pain and discomfort. He fetched some, I washed thoroughly as he watched me. I was careless of him: I felt neither disquiet nor embarrassment. So far as I was concerned at that moment he was a non-person. Having washed, I handed him the soap and made headed for my clothes which were by the door, with his.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to my room… sir."

"But you said… you promised…"

"Not after that."

Swiftly I opened the door, shut it behind me, and dripped my way down the passage. I knew he wouldn't follow me in the nude, but was anxious to get somewhere he couldn't follow. Once in the empty room I jammed a chair under the door handle and flopped on the bed, still wet though I was. What to do? I couldn't trust him enough to be alone with him again, for fear that he might try the same again, and this time use force to get me to comply. Yet he was due to give me more extra 'lessons'. I mulled over all of the problems, round and round in circles, for some time. The door handle rattled. He obviously knew I was in the room, otherwise the door would have opened. I rolled off the bed, and stood facing the door, undecided. If I went behind the door I might have a chance to slip out as he entered the room. A voice said: "Paul? Paul, what's the matter?" Colin! I nearly wet myself with relief. Until that moment I hadn't realised how much the ordeal had affected me, but when your bladder nearly gives way you really start thinking.

"One minute," I said, and pulled the chair away. He took one look at me and I was in a gentle bear hug. For the second time that day I was in tears. It was some time before we could communicate. I broke down and told him the full story, right from the first special 'lesson' the previous day. Was it really as recent as that? He was incensed.

"Even here, that's out of order, Paul. I think we go straight to the Principal and tell him. You can't go on like this, having him for lessons and all, and neither can I now you've told me. He's got too much power over us."

"He might give us a punishment, for telling on a teacher."

"Then he can punish me. 'Cos if you're not going, I am."

"No… Colin. I don't want to see you go through that."

"I'd rather be mauled about by a monitor than be worried about you getting raped all the time."

He'd given a name to it. It cleared my head, made me think his way. Almost.

"Can we talk to Billy about it first?"

"All right, but I'm still going."

It was time for the evening meal by that time, and Jimmy, who'd been at the pool, joined us there. We cornered Billy afterwards, and asked to speak to him alone. Chris and Jimmy, who we were rather pushing out, were not amused, and we had to pacify them with the promise that it was too difficult to talk about in a big group, but we'd tell them later. Billy, too, was angry when we told him.

"That's wrong," he said.

"Teachers aren't meant to touch us except to punish or help: it's usually to punish. They aren't meant to get enjoyment from us, it gets too personal and they start to lose control. Or at least, that's how I imagine it. That's what was said at my normal school where one of the female student teachers started to get fresh with one of the pupils. She was out before her feet could touch the floor. Pity; they were both besotted with each other, too.

"No, we've got to go to the Principal. Now."

Now! My brain jolted. I was not prepared for this. But they marched me through the passages to his office, and we were soon standing, like naughty schoolboys, in front of his desk. He didn't look surprised to see us.

"I know why you're here," he started: so did we. We were stunned by his words, and said nothing.

"One of the reasons we are wired for video and sound almost everywhere is to stop this sort of thing happening. When you two were in your room somebody happened to catch sight of what was going on tape, and alerted me. I have only just had a chance to watch it myself, otherwise I'd have required you to come here and spill the beans. Now, all I've gathered is that you, Gaston, have been molested by your teacher. I don't know the details, so I'm afraid you're going to have to tell me. If you'd rather do so alone, without these two here I'll understand, although I rather gather you've already sought their help."

So I gave him chapter and verse, and I could sense a growing agitation under his outward calm. There was silence when I had finished. Then he looked at me.

"You two, leave the room, but wait outside."

They looked at him, worried, but had no option but to obey. Once we were alone he said quietly: "This is serious. If everything you allege is true, then it will be extremely serious for Mr French. If your allegations go through and they are found not to be true then it will be extremely serious for you. If they are true, then you must say so; if they are untrue, say so now, and I promise you no action will be taken against you."

He paused for this to sink in. Then, even quieter, as if hoping for the answer 'no': "Paul Gaston, are the allegations you have made against Mr. French true?" I gulped.

"Yes, sir. I wish they weren't."

He sat back and sighed.

"All right. I believe you. Go and get the other two back, would you?" I did so. When we came back to the desk there was a tired look in his eyes. He looked at us.

"Paul has just said that he wishes his allegations weren't true. So do I. I wish it for his sake, because then he'd not have seen himself let down by a figure in authority. I wish it for Mr French, because he's given way to his own desires, a thing that we're all bound not to do. And I wish it for myself, because now I have to throw a basically decent man on the scrap heap.

"Nevertheless, what's done is done. I realise that there is no way he can be here any more. There is an outside chance he may be able to get a post at another of these places, but in view of this it's a bit doubtful. Anyway, he won't be here any more, which is what concerns you. I'm sorry you had to go through this so early, and we'll see what the future brings. Thank you for your honesty."

He stood up, to dismiss us. I was thinking hard.

"Sir, what will he do?"

"Why should it concern you?"

"Because I'm the one who… Well, told about him."

"He'll go back to Britain where he won't be able to get a job. He'll go on the dole and stay there."

He'd been a brute to me, and I had no time for him, but could I really do that to him? Wasn't it all he deserved, for working in a place like this to start with, and then molesting me into the bargain? What would happen if he continued here? Would we accept him as a teacher any more? "Sir, if I drop the charges, could he be given a job?" He looked at me, hard.

"Are you saying that you've lied, boy?"

"No sir, of course not. But I can't be the one who, well, kills him."

"After what he did, you're prepared to forgive him?"

"Not forgive, but well, forget, if he will too."

"I don't believe it. Are you sure you're not still scared of him? He can't harm you, you know."

"No sir, it's not that. But if he's… gay… then so am I. And it might be me one day."

"But you, I hope, wouldn't rape anyone."

"He went too far, sir. If he'd just done what he asked to start with that would have been that."

"No it wouldn't. He'd have asked you again and again to do more and more. He just craves young boys."

"Still, sir, please couldn't you let him off with a warning?" He looked at me for a long time, until I wondered if he was about to ask me to be intimate with him. Then suddenly the icy face melted, had its brief instant of humanity.

"Let me sleep on it. Please go now. And say nothing of this to anyone, nor in your room in case anyone else is watching the tapes."

We could all see the sense in this, so it was a silent trio who went to their room.

"Shower?" I asked innocently, knowing we could talk there."

They agreed. Under the arousing water I was called all the names under the sun for not getting my own back on one of our tormentors. I did my best to persuade them that I couldn't face being responsible for someone's future like that. No matter what he'd done to me. The only reason I'd 'gone public' with the facts was to stop it happening to me or anyone else again. Before that, he'd been one of the instruments that caused all sorts of things to be done to us, so apart from the pain and the fact that he shouldn't, where was the difference? If he was a rapist, then so were all the other teachers. I won them round, grudgingly, by asking them if they couldn't foresee a time when they, as gay people, might be in a similar situation. We were all in better humour when we went to bed. I was tired, and they were still rather shattered by the days events. We lay thinking, all three going to bed at the same time, for a longish period. Colin broke the silence.

"We aren't going to make much today."

"What?"

"Money."

"What? Oh, I see what you mean. D'you want to start now?"

"Why not?"

"Are you asleep, Jimmy?" There was no answer.

"Looks like just us two, then. Shall we get together?"

We rather unkindly, although very gently, shifted him to one side of the bed so we could lie next to each other, then just lay there, looking into each other's eyes. It sounds soft, I know, but he had the sort of face that just cries out to be looked at. I still don't know what he saw in mine. I ended up by just touching him on the cheek and waiting; we kissed, we embraced, we pushed our bodies together, we rejoiced in the feel of the aroused hardness lying against each other's belly, we wriggled, we felt, we fondled, we became wet. I have never explored so much of someone else's body through love before, and it was the most exciting thing I had ever done. Because of what we had learnt at the Institution neither of us had any qualms about where we could touch or where we were happy to have someone touch us. Nipples, buttocks, the crack between, testicles, penises, foreskins, and yes, very gently, he skinned me and, with a wet finger, traced along my exposed glans. It was exhilarating, it was the nearest thing mere humans can get to magic. We used hands, bodies, and inevitably, our mouths, everywhere. Even when his bottom was next to my head I used my mouth on him there, and my passion – there's no other word for it by that stage – was so great that I even licked right down into it, to the entrance that I had been so wary about when we experimented.

We were so careless in our movements that eventually Jimmy awoke, rather crossly, and was about to mutter and turn over when he sensed the excitement, saw the perspiration and the sexually induced flush over us, and the slippery wetness which now covered our genitals. Being the boy he was, with all our shared experiences, he was fascinated and very quickly aroused, as we both could see. In his turn he started to feel, to explore each of us. We did the same for him, sharing our wetness, feeling the wonderful young softness of his beautiful little body everywhere. He found every opportunity to do the same for us. Colin suddenly made a grab for his apparatus, and with our swift help had it fitted over his throbbing penis. As soon as it was there I performed the necessary rites and we could see that it was only just in time as only ten strokes were necessary to send quantities of his precious semen up the tube for collection. I kept going as long as I could see he was having the orgasm, and for some minute afterwards as he came down again. Jimmy then fitted me with my condom and tubes, and with Colin deeply fondling my bottom despite his exhaustion, Jimmy feeding my mouth with every centimeter he could muster whilst working on me at the same time with his hands it was not much longer before I, too, reached heaven. It was the longest, most intense orgasm I had had so far. When it had died down, and Jimmy and Colin were lying as close to me as they could get I felt just… complete. That's the only word for it.

It took us about five minutes to recover, and we would have slept like that if Jimmy hadn't moved. We were so happy, despite our circumstances, that we just had to help the youngster as well. So I moved so he could climb over me and lie between us, then we really went to town on his body to arouse him and excite him and make him feel at one with us. Eventually I held him in my arms as he lay on top of me, my erection once again hardening against and inside the crack between his buttocks, while Colin manipulated his foreskin. Soon there was a shudder as the orgasm began, and a stiffening of muscles, and a gasp, as he climaxed and, with another year or so of growth, would have spurted forth three or four times. To have him touching me, in ecstasy like that, and gradually relax on me as he recovered, was an intensely moving, intimate experience, especially with someone so good looking and so young. My love went out to him, and I wondered, not for the first time, how I could be so much in love with two other people. We relaxed, separated and, soggily, one by one, fell asleep.

Chapter 16
Trial

The knock on our bedroom door next morning was a novelty. Usually teachers, monitors and prefects just opened it and came in. I didn't want to wake up after the previous night: Jimmy was still sleeping and both Colin and I were dozy. It was the Principal. He wanted me to report to him in five minutes. I just made it, and swayed, still half asleep, on the carpet in front of his desk.

"I've thought long and hard about you and Mr French," he started.

"I have to say that I had no doubt at all that he should go, and with a bad reference. But if, as you say, you cannot face being the person responsible for doing that, then I applaud you for it in many ways, but I have to be sure that no harm is going to come to any of the boys here.

"What I am going to do is to interview him and tell him exactly what we discussed along with your reaction. That will put him in your debt, and I will make sure he knows it. We will then put him on domestic duties for the next month. By that time he will not need to be in daily contact with you and I shall keep a very close eye on what he does. Should he make any approach to you apart from apologizing once, you are to tell me immediately. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

I rather dreaded the idea of his apologizing to me, but hoped it would be over soon, and in other people's company. I decided I should ensure that one of the others was with me at all times.

"The other thing is that if this is to work, you must say nothing about it to anyone else, except your immediate friends, on whom I imagine you are relying for support. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

I was happy about this.

"Very well; go. I will call you back in when I have had words with Mr French. That will be after assembly."

He was as good as his word. He was noticeable by his absence in the hall, as was his subject. We were told to report for academic classes, and on my way I was told by a prefect to report once again to the office. It was a desperately uncomfortable interview. The teacher had obviously been told the options, and was uncomfortably apologetic and grateful. I think he was genuine. I was just glad to get out. It turned out that the whole day was to be academic. We met together only at break and lunch, as being different ages we were in different teaching groups. I gave them a rundown on the encounter, and the commiserated, and in fact said that, wherever possible, we should go around as a threesome. It suited me! Apart from a little fun filling phials at lunch, which made us even less apt to do academic work in the afternoon, it was an uneventful day. We were all quite impressed at the amounts Colin and I had produced the night before, after all that love following a day's abstinence. We would still have made more, we thought, if we'd really made an effort to wank off (Jimmy's words, not mine) at every opportunity. It started a discussion. We were looking at the advantages of doing it lots of times, which obviously produced the goods, as against the fun and the emotion of saving it all up until a really good, long session. What came first, money or enjoyment? "Or love," said Colin, quietly, looking at me, which unexpected comment made me go weak. I think Jimmy was a bit put out again.

"How about trying both," he asked.

"You know, go for it during the day and then have a good orgy in the evening? But can you start a bit earlier tonight? If you go on late I get tired."

It was one of those typical Jimmy comments we loved him for – he had little sense of Colin's and my deepening feelings for each other, but just knew we liked playing, just as he did. And he really did, very much. His comments would always bring us down to earth when we were getting too serious, but it always rebounded on him, for we would tickle him unmercifully, or take his few clothes off him and hold him upside down until he begged for mercy, and when he did that, and we put him down he would always do everything to try and arouse one of us, so we ended up by enjoying yet another threesome on the bed. I keep on coming back to the notion that the love and friendship and respect between us was more or less balancing out the requirements of sexual exercise with others.

Without Mr French, from now on, we were given over to a man who was as correct – according to the requirements of the Institution – as the Principal would wish. He was Arthur Martin by name, appeared to have no sense of humour or normal humanity at all, and was a stickler for practice, practice and more practice. With him we went back to the beginning on the practical side, to the extent that we were told never to make semen for our phials in the mornings, or at lunchtime if the afternoons were practical, as he wanted each of us to be at maximum potential for arousal by hand or tongue. That week was completed, and the next, before we learnt on the Friday we were to be put on to the next stage the following Monday. The long sessions of practice had one effect. The two heterosexuals – or, I suppose, one-and-a-half – got so used to being pulled, pushed, fondled, licked, sucked, and having to do the same to the rest of us, that they got very used to the idea. They would be able to produce fluid far more readily than before, and to produce it in others with no fuss or complaint. It made for an easier existence for all of us, but certainly the full hetero was getting no fun from it, and he said so in moments of leisure. He did unbend enough to ask if someone else would help him make semen, though, and Jimmy the player volunteered. He got so many searching questions during the exercise about how he knew he was gay, and didn't he want ever to have a girl, and how he could really enjoy doing all this, that he came back in two minds about doing it again for him.

"Having done you two so often, I'm good at it," he boasted. Quite truthfully, I may say.

"I made him do a lot – I think he reckoned I was a young girl!"

In truth he probably saw Jimmy as being asexual in view of his age, and as posing no 'threat' to him. The other of the pair was gradually appearing to be bisexual, if that's the word. Although still talking about girls and girlfriends he was very free with offering, not just his body for others to arouse, but to help others do the same. We started hearing about nights of passion on beds around the Institution, so either he was lying about the girls or was discovering a facet of his makeup that he had never seen the need to recognise before. It interested us. We had known about the existence of homosexuals, and joined in ridiculing them amongst our various selves at normal schools, whilst knowing in the kernel of our being that it was others who shared our sexuality we were deriding. How youth follows the mob! It takes an immeasurable amount of courage to admit to yourself that you are not as your peers, and as to admitting it to them, you either have to be worthy of the Victoria Cross or somehow be so self assured that you do not care what others think of you. In fact, in that part of your mental development you have already become old. Cynical? No. It's just that had I not been to the Institution I would still be 'in the closet', so securely locked in there that nothing would have been able to break in to me, not even common sense. But anyway, we had never heard of bisexual. Some of us imagined having the genitals of both sexes, until one of the older ones told us about hermaphrodites, and explained the difference.

The following Monday, by which time we had been there four weeks, two things happened. Firstly we had been told that, after Sunday night, there was to be no more semen produced, for any reason, and that we would be told why at Monday's practical session. Secondly we were all told that the following weekend we would be given our first opportunities at the clubs. Despite all our experience this last caused us quite a bit of concern. We had been told not to worry about it, and that we'd be given full instructions beforehand, but it seemed to require us to be naked in public. We were used to being naked in public within the Institution – in fact I still had to appear on the stage every Wednesday and remove my clothes, skin my penis and show the depths of my bottom. But to strangers? As I said, it worried us.

Monday's lesson started the same as usual. We paired off, with one on the couch and the other as an operator. I noticed that as far as possible Mr Martin was keeping together those who had paired up, which meant that I was with Colin. Jimmy was with the lad just a bit older than him. The two 'straight' boys had been split up, as their efforts at working with each other almost always failed. We were told to arouse each other, and produce fluid.

"But then," he continued, "you will continue by masturbating, and periodically taking the organ in your mouth. When he knows he is about to have the orgasm, the subject will say "yes", and the operator will cover the glans with his mouth, and take the semen in. It is best then to swallow it. As has been said before, there is no danger of any sort in doing this. You may start."

It was all right for Colin and me. It was all right for Jimmy and his partner, since Jimmy could produce no semen yet, the youngster produced very little, and Jimmy was used to doing this with us as a part of our play. For some of the others, whose pairing was a matter more of convenience than attraction, it was a bit of a shock. For Martin, the really straight boy, it was only the knowledge that he'd have a monitor to deal with if he didn't comply that made him do it. I never saw what happened when he was himself the subject. Nothing untoward was said, so I assume he managed to come.

Operating on Colin was really enjoyable for the two of us. When it was my turn it was even better, so strong was my feeling for him and my trust in him. Having his lips encircle me as I came was such a peaceful, loving release after a night's unaccustomed abstinence that I deliberately lay still afterwards, eyes closed, while he continued to lick me and fondle my manhood with his tongue, and my testicles with his fingers.

After a necessary break we were given different partners and had to perform the routine again. It was markedly difficult: doubly so as we were still really recovering from the first orgasm, and were with people we didn't necessarily feel for, even if we did know them quite well by this time.

After a shortened afternoon's academic schooling we assembled once more in the 'practical' classroom. Four monitors, the Principal and Mr Martin were there, and we were rather worried by all this attention.

"We are going to start telling you about working in the clubs," the Principal explained.

"Remember above all that this is to earn you money. Think of what you do there as a whole load of banknotes. Especially think of the people in that way, for that should be all they mean to you. If you start to get involved emotionally with them it causes all sorts of problems, so don't. Some are quite mature, some are fairly young, and some will have brought with them their young friends for a night out. Don't get involved in any relationship problems or take sides or try to help any person against another. Incidents have occurred where boys have misread the situation and it has become very unpleasant. Get involved emotionally with dirty old men in a sex club? Some chance!

"Firstly, then, you travel there in the clothes in which you arrived here. You will start of the evening wearing clean shorts, which you will change into when you arrive. At a certain point in the evening you will change into something a little briefer, and about two thirds of the way through you will report to the backstage, change back into your outdoor clothes, and will eventually be brought back here. Clear so far?"

It didn't sound as bad as I expected. I had almost assumed we would be required to wear nothing when we were there. That was a relief, but I had no idea what he meant by 'something briefer.'

"Whilst you are there, you will serve drinks. You respond to a signal from a table, an instruction from one of the bar staff or management, or a simple request from a client. You take his 'tab' from him to the bar: the staff give you a tray and mark the tab with what he has had, and you deliver it to the table. Spillages due to carelessness are deducted from your fee, so be careful."

He paused. I could feel something else was coming.

"All these people like boys, otherwise they wouldn't be there. The first part of the evening is for them to talk to you if they want. The second and third parts we put on a show. You become involved in the first of these shows when you have had more practice, and when you change to come home you do so on stage, so are already contributing to the third part of the show. In the last six months of your stay here you may elect to become more involved as it is very lucrative, but that is your decision."

My mind skipped the last sentence. So that was the catch! We had to change, on stage, from whatever brief clothes we would be given into our ordinary ones. How were we to do that without being naked for a short while? As I thought of it someone else asked the question. The answer was simple.

"You're not. You'll be wearing quite little by that time, so you'll just undo them and climb into your trousers or whatever you came here in."

"But that's not fair, sir."

"What d'you mean, not fair? Fair or not, as has been explained to you it is to make money for yourselves and this establishment that you are going to the club to work. It has also been explained to you that while you are here your bodies are not your own. So you will do as the club wants, as the clients want, and you will do it with a smile to show that you are enjoying it. Think of it as banknotes coming into your account. Besides, the more experienced ones will be giving a show which requires them to be naked for far longer than you, and they are to be paid more as a result.

"Now, while you are serving you will probably get clients who ask you to do more than chat. You will learn all this during the rest of the week, but there is a price list you must learn, and some decisions you must make. If they want you to sit at their table and talk to them, that is free but you must be aware that club staff can call you away at any time. If you are asked to sit on someone's knee and talk or let them touch the parts of you they can see, then that costs them £3 [$6/€3.75]. If they want you to let them fondle your genitals or bottom, without going inside your clothing, taking it off or disturbing it, then that is £7 [$14/€8.75]. For you to touch them as well costs them £10 [$20/€12.50]. You do not have to do any of these things, but the charge must be made if you do: it is your income, don't forget."

We were silent, trying to digest this, amazed at what we were hearing.

"I do not expect you will want to go further at this stage. But there are rooms at the back of the club where assignments can take place if it involves a client removing his clothing. So, if he wants you to strip at the table, in public, the charge is £15 [$30/€18.75], and the same if there is touching involved. If he wants to go somewhere private, and you agree, then take him to a room – you will be shown where they are. Once there, everything you do will be recorded, for your safety, and there is a panic button placed secretly which you will be shown. Once you are both in there he will expect you to do whatever it is you have agreed. The sort of activities you can expect are the sort of things you do here, and there is naturally a much higher price for doing them. That means there is more income for you.

"Now you may go, and digest all this, and make a list of questions. We shall meet again tomorrow and I will give you details of the prices again, with more, and I shall expect you to learn them all. That is all."

This gave us reason for a great deal of conversation, as you can imagine. Serving at table was one thing, but doing so wearing very little was completely different. Funnily it was Martin who took the lead.

"If I can get this far, and can put up with you queer boys raping me every day, then I can go and act the stripper in a night club," he said. "I've got so used to wearing nothing at all that, if people expect it, I'll take off my clothes to order. I've got a good body, and I'm well hung, so why not?"

It got us all thinking. I hadn't got a good body, particularly, and I wasn't well hung apart from in the testicle department, but the club people had liked me, as they had Jimmy. We must each have something. Colin was all right, of course, but then he was older. If I could make myself do some of these things then I would, just to make some money. Even if they were all complete strangers, they were paying to get in, paying us, paying for the show, so it wasn't like one of those nightmares where you're in school, naked… I psyched myself up, and told the other two how I was thinking. They had more or less reached the same conclusions.

Over the next few days we must each have swallowed many pounds worth of each others' semen. Phial filling slowed to a trickle, and I use the word advisedly. We were each having so many orgasms that we were desperately tired at the end of each day and there was neither time nor strength left for play or money making. We were told the remainder of the price list. For you to be stripped and felt was £15 [$30/€18.75] and the same if it was reciprocal. Anything involving sucking was £20 [$40/€25], and the same for what Jimmy politely termed 'a 69'. I couldn't see myself putting any adult's penis in my mouth, and I sincerely hoped that Jimmy couldn't either. The list went on: if the client wanted to be brought to orgasm it was £25 [$50/€31.25], and £30 [$60/€37.50] if he wanted you to come, too.

"If you are asked for anything else, ask one of our people. That's Institution people, not the club's." The answer will probably be no, but we can probably suggest someone else.

Two things happened on Thursday. Firstly we were told not to produce any more semen until after the club visit, and secondly we were given a mock club session. The main hall was set up with chairs and tables, and the clients consisted of a mixture of teachers, monitors and prefects. We were kitted up in quite old, brief white shorts, which hung on us more like underwear than trousers. We had no shirts. I think this must have been the monitors' benefit session, for they would ask us for a fondle, a kiss, to sit on their laps… But to start with not, I noticed, to touch them or go into a back room. Oh yes, they had set those up as well: just the two, the anterooms at the back of the stage. I saw Blondie was asked to strip at one of the tables, and to my surprise did so, whilst one of the ugliest monitors there fondled his cheeks and cleft, then his genitals, for what seemed like ages. I don't know how he engineered it but I found myself serving Billy with mock drinks. He asked me to go into one of the back rooms, and have a 69. So the term was a real one, then. With him, it was enjoyable, but we knew we mustn't go too far, for cameras had been installed even there. He gave my foreskin some exercise, and I was pleased to find that the three weeks of consistent manipulation had eased it off a lot and that I was a lot less tender when it was pushed back. After we had gone as far with that as we dared we pulled on our shorts and walked carefully back into the hall. Seeing us, the Principal stopped the proceedings to make a point.

"If you become erect, whatever you are wearing, you ignore it. You do not try to hide it. You make yourself comfortable, certainly, but continue as normal. The clients are far more likely to have erections than you are. It's also a selling point for you. If you want to engineer one, then do, but be careful not to go too far with it!"

The next person who called me was a monitor, admittedly one of the less repulsive ones, but I wanted nothing to do with them. I didn't trust them; none of us did, and rumours circulated about them. Also, some of the sounds that could be heard from their living quarters on the rare occasions we had to scurry past were, well, unsavoury. In retrospect some of the sounds coming from Colin, Jimmy and my room might have been a bit questionable in normal society. And if it was true for us it would be true for everyone else as well. But we never thought about that at the time. This monitor wanted to strip me, lay me on a bed in one of the rooms, and let him suck me.

I went straight into a state of panic. I thought nothing of price tags, of my 'duty' to entertain, or anything. I just wanted to avoid his company. I looked round wildly and caught the Principal looking at me. Was this, then, a put-up job? My hesitation was very noticeable.

Then monitor said, in quite good English: "You don't want I should do that?"

I didn't. But something inside me was solidifying into a resolve that I should. It's a strange feeling. You're so much against something that you're sure you don't want to do it. Yet there's a pressure on your sense of adventure that urges you in the other direction. Given that you're being encouraged by officialdom to follow along with it, against your better judgement you find yourself first seriously considering it, then discounting the reasons why you shouldn't, and then…

"I'll do it," I said weakly, wondering if it was really a voice that belonged to my body, was just about to be raped. Why did I say it? Was I mad?

In a sort of dream I followed the man over to the anterooms; he entered, and I followed submissively. I suddenly realised I hadn't been shown were the panic button was, but soon spotted it, just before the monitor drew me hard against him. My flesh started to crawl as his hands felt down my back, down my buttocks and the back of my thighs as far as he could reach. He kept doing that, then switched to under my arms, down my sides and onto my thighs. Inevitably his last movements were from my neck. Very slowly his palms and fingertips worked down to my nipples which were for some reason rock hard, and for a time he traced round them, squeezed them, tickled them… The disgust that had made me shudder to start with had receded: again, I don't know why, because I liked him none the more. When he had had enough of my chest he slid his hands further down, slowly, to the waist of my shorts, which was about two inches [5 cm] below my belly-button. He fingered that, too, and stroked around the top of my belly very gently, and by now I knew that my body was about to react.

Before he had a chance to feel any further down, the blood had started to enter the softness of the flesh of my penis and it had started to lengthen and stiffen and to push against the cloth of my shorts, and there was nothing I could do about it. You can't dissociate yourself from your erection, and you can't stop it except by reading a particularly boring book, and I was hardly in a position where I could do that. He saw, of course. He was probably waiting for it to happen. He looked up at me and a real, gentle smile came to his face. I couldn't react to it. But it was probably the one thing that kept me from yelping and running from the room. He looked back at my shorts, and slowly, softly, moved his hands down the front of my thighs, pushing the cloth back to my skin and making my troublesome manhood stand out even more. Down went his hands, and further down, and he was kneeling on the floor in front of me, face level with my crotch. He pushed his face forward and kissed me there, through the material.

In a detached way I realised that my dislike had started to crumble, and was immediately furious with myself. This was no friend of mine, this was an adult of thirty years or more, and I knew I should be revolted just as I had been when it started. What was my body doing to my mind? He stood up, moved to my side. With one hand between my shoulders and the other over my ribs he stroked down… and down… and down… and this time he went inside my shorts. At the back his middle finger went straight down my crack, the rest of the hand spread over my cheeks, whilst at the front they went straight over my erection, encompassing it briefly before continuing down to the testicles. He held me like that, squeezing and releasing gently in front and moving the finger which was getting close to my aperture up and down, up and down… It was very skilfully done.

He had given me just enough arousal to still most of my disgust, and all that was left of it was a wonder in a corner of my mind that I was letting a monitor, of all people, do this to me. I stood there and let him do it, and even enjoyed the familiar sensations. Swiftly he eased the shorts off me, ensuring they didn't snag on my hook of an erection. So loose were they that as soon as they reached the top of my thighs they fell to the floor. He put an arm under my shoulders and another under my knees, and lifted me out of them as if I'd been a five-year-old rather than a fairly solid boy nearly three times that age. He laid me gently on the couch that had been put there by a friendly Institution against this very possibility. He started unzipping his track suit which was even more distended in the front than my shorts had been. Then he paused.

"You want I stay dressed?" His voice was quavering, throaty.

I assumed he was affected by my lying there, stark naked, in front of him. I didn't know what I wanted. My mind wasn't really functioning properly. Eventually something inside me gave my muscles the wrong message, for I shook my head. Swiftly he continued with the zip, and pulled off both trousers and top. I have to say he was quite impressive, and not nearly as distasteful as the impression that I'd built in my mind. A bit more hairy than Colin around the belly and chest, but not as heavily pelted as some of the men I'd seen on the beach in real life. I was quite relieved. The next bit I was ready for and, I'm ashamed to say, almost eager for. Perhaps that was mainly because we had become so used to doing it that it was second nature. He knelt beside me, knees at my head, took my genitals in his hands and did everything that we had been taught to do to or for each other. It was a relief when he took me into his mouth; it was the next stage in the release of the sexual tension. This brought his body parallel to the couch, and to keep his balance he had to extend his legs past my face. His erection was now next to my face. Do I? I wondered. He smelt clean. No. You never know… I brought my hand up from my side and gently encircled his penis, then slowly pulled back. It looked clean, and by the time I had pulled it as far as it would go I could see that it was. This had brought a surprised reaction from the man, for he had gasped, looked at me in a dazed way, and gone back to working on me. I brought my mouth to him and took him in.

Afterwards, when I had swallowed what he produced, I was furious with myself. To do this to the strange boys who were my school colleagues, so to speak, was bad enough. We had to, anyway, for if we didn't the punishment would be in many ways worse. But to take down the semen of an old man, one who I had every reason to fear, and to enjoy the preamble to doing so… Well, I was revolted with myself. Fortunately he had been very careful not to make me come, and I think he would have been punished himself had he done so. He had released me in good time, while I still worked on him, and didn't resume even after he'd come. He climbed off the couch, a little unsteadily cleaned himself off on his tracksuit which he then put on, watching me as I climbed down and pulled the shorts over my still very erect penis. As we walked to the door we went out of view of the video camera's lens. Right in the doorway he stopped me, put a hand on my genitals again and whispered "Thank you. You trust me. Is worth a lot. You good, good boy, very sexy. I like."

Oh, and he kissed me. We went out into the hall, overtaking another pair, student and teacher this time, who were taking over our room. We'd been in there 45 minutes, to my surprise. The monitor went back to his table; I went over to the 'bar', the bulge in my shorts having been watched all the way from the anteroom door by Jimmy, who was standing there. I could see it was also being watched by a lot of those at the tables. My brain was still whirling and I didn't care, in fact I was proud of it. If that's what they'd be paying to see, well, let them see.

"Was it horrible?"

"I don't know. Not too bad."

What a way to sum up something I had been dreading for ages! By contrast the rest of the morning's session was simple. I did a lot of mock serving of drinks, although as I was carrying glasses of water I suppose it wasn't too much of a mock. I managed not to drop any: one or two of the others spilt some, and only one boy managed to drop a whole tray. The other duties I was a asked to perform were a public fondle, a chat whilst sitting on the knee of one of the teachers, and only one other assignment to a separate room. This one was just to let one of the teachers, whom I knew, strip me and fondle my testicles, so after the earlier baptism of fire that was nothing. Then there was a break, and we trooped off to the dining hall to compare notes. I told my two room mates what had happened to me the first time. I'm not sure they knew what to think. By the questions they asked it was a mixture of disgust, disbelief, sympathy and congratulations on having risen to the occasion, although I'm sure they thought I was mad or worse to have agreed to go with the monitor in the first place. I didn't have the communication skills to describe my mental processes at the time. In fact I could still hardly believe what I had done.

PART

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Backwoodsman

The Institution

Chapters 13-16

Chapter 13Inspection

Chapter 14Second Inspection

Chapter 15Mr. French

Chapter 16Trial

Chapter 13
Inspection

Chapter 14
Second Inspection

Chapter 15
Mr. French

Chapter 16
Trial