Backwoodsman

The Institution

Chapters 21-23

Chapter 21
Robert

Wow, I thought. What he saw in me I didn't know, yet he was looking me up and down as I was him. I wasn't actively fat, by any means, but my musculature had always been under-done and I was inclined to thickness in my thighs and bottom and abdomen. Still he was looking at me as if he'd just won a serious prize at a circus booth, and couldn't wait to get home and play with it.

Looking at him, I felt the same.

"There's no rush," he said in a strange, rather tight voice. "I just like looking at you."

Well that was a departure. I supposed that my two companions did too, but they had never said so. And I still couldn't see why he did. There was plenty to please the eye in him, though. I thought Colin was pleasing on the eye, and Jimmy sweet, but here was a really beautiful young body in prime condition at my own stage of development. I could feel myself falling…

He did a sort of shake of the head, as if to draw a line over his close inspection of my body. We must have been standing, about 10 feet [3 m] apart, just looking at each other, for about five minutes. We had neither of us moved, unless you count the lengthening and rising of two penises as moving. Not a word had passed between us.

"Stay there," he commanded, and crossed to his cupboard which he opened. In it, apart from a spare pair of shorts, were lots of the small bottles of lubricant that we were all provided with. He took two in each hand and dropped three of them on the bed. The fourth stayed in his hand as he crossed back to me.

"Cup your hands."

He poured the contents of the bottle into them, then carefully took some onto his own palms and started rubbing it on my shoulders, down over my nipples, under my arms, down my arms, then over my chest and abdomen, taking more from my hands as he needed it.

"Do the same to me."

I poured the oil on his hands and repeated the performance on his muscular body, thrilling in the feel of it: the hard yet supple muscles contrasting with the firm, yielding boyish flesh in other, less developed parts of him. The supply of oil was just about enough to anoint him.

"Lie on your back on the floor."

Is this where it starts, I wondered. Or has it really started already? I did so.

He retrieved another of the bottles, unscrewed the stopper and knelt on the floor, straddling my thighs. A pause for another long, appraising scan of my body. I looked into his eyes and at his gleaming, oiled torso. He looked like a Greek god. Not the impressive, muscled appearance that Blondie had, but something more appealing, softer in spirit yet as capable in movement.

"Pull your balls to the front and put your legs together."

I wondered why he didn't touch me. Surely, after all his searching looks had said he wanted to? I needn't have worried.

Taking my penis between two fingers he pulled it back so that it pointed straight up to the ceiling. He held the bottle over the tip of it and, drop by drop, let it run out all down the shaft, over my testicles and into the sealed cleft between my legs. As the level rose up my thighs I brought my knees up to make sure nothing escaped that way. It also brought my thighs up against his. He smiled at me as he saw why I was doing so.

The bottle emptied: he put it down. Dipping his fingers in the pool between my legs he smeared oil liberally over my belly and around the side, going as far onto my buttocks as he could reach. Then he started from my ankles, up each calf in turn, then at each knee.

And then he started on my slightly raised thighs, reaching under his own which were either side of them. To feel his oily hands feeling right round them to the back… well. If there had been no oil on the tip of my penis already that sensation alone would have caused a deposit of more than oil there. I have no idea if he had done this before or whether it was just a trial, but it was mighty effective. He finished what he could reach of them, then just sat there, looking at my face and torso and the organ that was beating in time with my heart. Suddenly he smiled and looked directly at my erection, then slowly dipped his hands into the diminished pool of oil between my legs. Tantalisingly slowly he brought his hands, dripping oil, over my scant pubic hair, paused again and dipped then dipped them gently into that thin bush. Caressingly, he rubbed oil into it, and around it, then took more from the pool. He started on the testicles, massaging them, and pulling them and touching them all round, an rubbing the oil into them… He could see I was being affected, for I was starting to make little moaning noises, like an anxious dog. I knew I was doing it, but I couldn't help it.

Finally he turned his attention to the penis.

How I didn't come then and there I really don't know. I didn't want to, because I sensed there was more, and even better, to come. He anointed it from root to tip, then easily skinned it and made sure I was wet under the foreskin too. Finished, he sat back on my thighs and looked at me, gently laughing.

"Nice?"

I nodded. I could hardly speak.

"Let me get all the rest of the oil off you… right. Turn over."

I had forgotten that. I did as I was told, as always. He deposited the spare oil into the little dip at the small of my back.

More swiftly this time, as if aware that I was lying rather uncomfortably on a full erection, he covered my back, then worked on my calves and the back of my thighs: a return of the wonderful sensation. Then he dipped again, and very slowly started on the outside of my buttocks, gradually working inwards. He kneaded the soft flesh like bread until they were covered. I felt him separate his legs a little.

"Legs apart," he ordered. I did so until his were in the way, whereupon he brought his in between mine. "Further apart – far as you can."

I pushed them out, almost knowing what was going to happen. With one hand he levered apart my bottom until I knew there was nothing more left to expose. With the other he pushed the oil on my back down through the valley, a little at a time, and as soon as any quantity reached a dry part in there he smoothed it up the sides to meet the skin that was already anointed. As his fingers progressed downwards I was half afraid and half hoping that he was going to go inside me, and alternately relaxed and tensed my sphincter muscle. But he avoided pushing there, and instead took the oil under my legs until he reached the edge of the scrotum again.

There was still a coolness in the small of my back, so I knew there must still be oil there.

"Relax completely. Nothing matters now, no mess, nothing. Just relax. I felt I could trust him completely.

He swept the last of the oil down into the valley of my bottom, but held a finger just below the sphincter to stop it flowing further. Very gently he applied another finger to the muscle there and wiped oil all round the entrance. I tried to relax even more. Still very slowly and gently he pushed a little way in, then withdrew. I tensed and relaxed. This was repeated a few times, and he went in deeper each time. There was no pain, just a strange sensation, not unpleasant. He got all of his middle finger in at the end, right down to the knuckle, and only then did I feel uncomfortable. But he withdrew as he felt me tense up.

He got to his feet rather unsteadily. I lay there.

"Come on! It's time for you to start on me."

Carefully I got up. I'd never been oiled all over before, and the slipperiness under my arms, under my legs and particularly inside the cleft of my bottom was strange. I stood for a few moments, moving from foot to foot, deciding whether I liked it. On the whole, I did. Robert was already lying on the floor. I opened the first of the bottles.

I did a repeat performance on him. And I enjoyed it thoroughly. The contrast in skin tones between the muscled and the non muscled parts of him was exciting. Hearing the quiet little expressions of pleasure come from him was also very exciting. We both enjoyed it when, straddling his thighs, I leant forward to start on his shoulders and chest. Our penises touched, so I wriggled a bit. He laughed, so I dabbed his nose with an oily finger.

When he had turned over I realised that I would have to insert my finger into him, something I hadn't done before. With the oil I played around the puckered aperture, tickling, feeling him squirming and listening to him moaning with more pleasure than I had experienced. I assumed it was all right, so I pushed. I felt him relax as I did so and the tip of my finger went in easily. I did what he had done, working it in and out, a little deeper each time, and yes, I managed without any problem to bury it in him up to the end. I wondered what would happen if I felt around, and very gently did so. As I pushed down he gave a tremendous moan and instinctively tightened up. I withdrew my finger hurriedly.

"No! Put it back. Do that again."

I did. When it was at its deepest I felt down again and encountered the same resistance as I had before. He moaned again. With the end of my finger I massaged him, ignoring the contractions of his sphincter on my finger. The moaning became prolonged, then suddenly he rolled over, almost tearing my finger from him, and he sat up, eyeing me hungrily.

"I want you. Oh god I want you. Do what you want to me. Fuck me. Anything. Just do it."

I didn't know what I'd done to bring this on, but I was quite flattered. The ease with which my finger had entered him made me wonder if I could go the next stage up in my training, as I thought it would be. It was exploration on my part. I had got used to the idea that it happened between boys here, so that shock was out of the way. Here we were, with plenty of time, fully lubricated, and I really liked him.

"Roll over again." He did, and I spread his legs and started using my finger between his buttocks again. When I had again tickled around the pucker marks, I slowly pushed in two well oiled fingers. He sighed.

I withdrew them, then kneeling between his spread legs I positioned myself carefully and laid flat on top of him so that my erection sank parallel to his body in between the buttocks. He moaned again. Supporting myself on my arms so as not to put too much weight on him I rubbed as much of my body up and down, using the slipperiness to add sensation to us both. The felling on my penis was wonderful, and we enjoyed this for some time.

It's time, I thought. Grasping my penis I held it over the aperture and let the end tickle him there. He gasped.

Right, I thought, and pushed in.

Because of the oil my foreskin rode back easily and gave me no trouble. It was hot in there, and soft, and as I pushed in the tightness of his reacting sphincter played games with my shaft. I got in as far as I could, then again wriggled our bodies together. He gasped and gave a moan. I thought he was in pain, so I pulled back and out. We both sat up.

"Is that the first time you've done that?"

"Yes. Apart from trying it once with Colin and Jimmy. But we had no oil then."

"It hurts a lot if you don't. But that's wonderful."

He paused and looked at my penis. There were traces of dirt on it.

"We'd better go and clean that off. Then I'm going to use another bottle of oil on us."

Still naked and erect we made our way to the bathroom, fortunately without seeing anybody, and I stood there while he filled a basin. My foreskin was still exposing the glans, the longest time it had done so for ages. Carefully he wetted me there, and washed the end. I made myself put up with the intense sensations – my glans was still very sensitive indeed. It seemed that what it could put up with when I was in the middle of pleasure was much greater than when it was almost soft again, as now.

Despite my frequent winces and jerks away he got me clean. We both washed our hands and, with only slight erections, made our way back to his room. As we entered I could feel myself hardening again, especially as he bent to find another bottle from his cupboard. What a body!

There was no messing this time. He poured oil onto his own hand and came straight to me, cupping it under my legs, dipping my testicles in it, pushing them upwards level with the root of the penis, then letting them fall back and smearing the oil up my shaft. Kneeling, he massaged it well in to me, all round the area. I could feel my body adding its own lubrication too.

I did the same for him, and we once again stood, just looking at each other, never tiring of the beauty I could see in him and he seemed to see in me. When it got too much to bear any more I just walked up to him and hugged him like a bear, kissing him full on the mouth then exploring inside it with my tongue. With a wonderfully sexy little moan he did the same to me.

I keep trying to find the words to describe the sensation of hundred-per-cent-lubrication between two people who are in love, but language isn't strong enough for it. If you've experienced it, you'll know; if you haven't then find a lover – a real one – and persuade them to try. It's a pure, wondrous sensation.

We explored each other's mouths, our chests were rubbing together and our bellies. What was happening between our genitals was incredible. Our thighs, too, were in permanent movement, and my hands were exploring him at the back from the shoulders to the slim bottom, and inside there too, and occasionally right inside him.

I have no idea how long this went on, but eventually we found ourselves on the floor again, still wriggling together, still lubricated, still very erect. I wanted to kiss him everywhere, and something I had been wanting to do was to explore his protruding belly button, something I had never noticed on anyone before.

I licked my way from his mouth, down his chin and onto his neck, where I put my lips round his adam's apple. He laughed and the sound came out wavery with my movements. Onto his chest next, and I teased each nipple in turn with my mouth, and sucked hard at each one until he squeaked in protest. Then it was the tongue again, down to my target. I licked the protrusion and sucked at it, and ran my tongue around it for ages.

Credit to him, he said nothing. I've had it done to me since, and although the contact is nice and it isn't unpleasant overall, it's really not the sexiest thing in the world. Tired of that, mainly because I was getting no response, I started work further down, and to feel the slippery skin around his testicles yielding and sliding past my fingers was glorious. I put my face to his penis and was about to start work there when he stopped me.

"What about me, then? Don't I get a go? I won the fight, remember?"

So I stopped, and lay down where I was.

Everyone who had fondled me was intrigued by my low slung scrotum, and always made a beeline for it when they got me naked. Robert was no exception, and was really quite rough with it, but that was acceptable because of the oil and my heightened excitement. In fact it was wonderful. He started on the penis, and I took this as the cue to resume work on him.

Such a long time had passed since we began this marathon that it took about a dozen slow strokes up and down my shaft, with his lips and tongue massaging my testicles, for me to have an orgasm. The release made me stop work on him. Now usually after coming I need to rest and then clean up, like everyone else. But he was still high, and all he did was to catch the last few of my jerks in his mouth and lick off all around me, and then smeared the juice from me over my stomach and pubic hair.

"Roll over and relax everything."

It took an effort but I managed it. He separated me again, and exercised his fingers over that most sensitive part of me, then I felt the strong warmth as his manhood paused at the entrance. By his time I was coming down off the plateau, and was far from in a mood for accepting this, but he gave me no choice, and gradually entered me. Fortunately both of us were still well oiled.

I didn't enjoy it. After having just come myself it felt totally foreign. I was glad he was so excited – as excited as I had been – because it took him a very few humps of me to make him gasp suddenly, and then to go faster, moan, and slow down as I felt the hard strokes enter me as his own orgasm started. On and on, deep inside me… and that caused pain. I clenched my teeth and rode with him while he pumped me.

When it was over he drew himself out and collapsed by the side of me. I lay quiet, trying to ignore the pain that was still there, just inside me. I felt myself there, and looked at my hand, but there was no blood. We lay there for ages. I didn't want to be the one who moved first.

He looked into my eyes, and I looked back. He realised something was wrong, because I saw the look of concern start on his face.

"I've hurt you, haven't I?"

I nodded.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to be rough, and at that moment I forgot you'd not been taught. Was that your first time?"

I nodded again.

"Then I'm glad it was with me, more glad than you'll know. Please let me hold you again."

We embraced, and I was able to enjoy it, but I was still in pain. He disengaged. "I'll get you something."

He went back to the cupboard. Despite myself I still watched him move with a quiet delight. He pulled out a small tube which he unstoppered.

"Roll over again. This will stop it hurting. It's only a temporary hurt, so when this wears off it'll be gone."

I trusted him. I rolled over and he put his finger into me again. I could feel it circling inside me, and where I was hurting it made it worse. Twice I tensed up. Twice he reinserted his finger.

As we lay on the floor I could feel the pain reduce to a dull ache, then disappear. I turned to him.

"It's gone."

"Good. I promise I won't do that again. In any case, if I did I'd get some of that on my prick and I don't want that anaesthetised!"

"What do you want to do now?"

"Recover, shower, have something to eat, and start on you again."

"It's a big prize you think you've won!"

"Any objections?"

I pushed myself back from him to look at his slim, beautiful body in the failing light.

"No."

We laid on the floor for some time, until the room was dark. Nothing was said. My mind was full of the joy of him, that fierce joy that comes from seeing beauty, loving its possessor, and knowing your love is returned. I was full of him. I was not wanting to be anywhere than with him. He was to be my life. We would be together always. Physically the blood kept rushing to the soft tissues between my legs, then ebbing as my thoughts became less erotic, then returning.

We stirred eventually and walked, still naked, to the showers. I saw Jimmy at the end of the corridor. He waved, and I waved back: neither of us spoke.

In the shower we were again alone, and it all started again. The feeling, the touching, the massage, the playing. And the kissing. He seemed as anxious to give me pleasure as I was to give it to him. Inevitably we gave each other another orgasm, almost without trying.

My excuse was that the oil was difficult to shift, so a lot of rubbing of soap was needed.

We went to eat afterwards. We were far too late for a meal, but there was always bread and sandwich fillings available. Fifty or so boys trained to be horny take a lot of feeding. We sat at opposite sides of a table, each hardly taking his eyes off the other one.

He had to bring me down to earth.

"What are you going to do after tonight?"

I looked at him, stupidly. I was going to be with him, of course. Then my mind clicked back to reality and Jimmy and Colin re-entered it.

It was like receiving a blow to the stomach.

The trouble was, I wanted them all. I wanted Robert for his beauty and for sex and for sexual games. I wanted Colin for a friend, for company and for sex, and I wanted Jimmy for fun and friendship and for a younger brother. But a foursome wouldn't work. I could see that. When I was with Robert I knew that I wanted him alone. When I was with the other two it was just that – the other two. We enjoyed ourselves as a threesome. They were good fun.

But I wanted to be with Robert. For ever.

"I don't know."

He looked at me, the look that already made me go weak inside.

"I want you."

It was as clear a declaration of his feelings for me that I could have wished for, not that there was any doubt. His way of looking at me, the long raking stare of appraisal at my body and the way he held my eyes when we spoke were testament enough for that. Yet I was so confused. I didn't know which way to turn. I couldn't do what I would do normally with a problem, because that was to go and talk to Colin. But part of me knew that I had to do just that.

"I want to enjoy tonight first, when you take the second part of your prize." I don't know why I joked. My heart was heavy with the knowledge that I had to tell the others… what? What was I going to tell them? That I loved Robert and was going to stay with him? That would break Jimmy's heart, and I didn't know what Colin's reaction would be. Or was I going to say that I loved Robert, but was going to stay with my friends out of loyalty? I clenched my teeth.

I think he sensed my turmoil.

"You love them, don't you."

I nodded.

"But don't you love me?"

"YES! That's the trouble. I've spent ages with them and we have lots of good times. I know them and I love them. But this afternoon…"

Words failed me at this point. He just looked at me and then very slowly put his hands on mine. It was one of those theatrical moves you see on television, when they want to make the next part of the dialogue really meaningful and important.

"Come to bed," he whispered.

Chapter 22
Lovesick

He showed me, that night, that he really did want to be one with me. He had difficulty in letting me out of his arms for a moment, as indeed I did him. We spent most of the time so close to each other that breathing was difficult. It got so hot that I thought I had been asleep, not realised it, and he had poured more oil over my body. For hours, it seemed, we squirmed together in this embrace, rubbing our bellies and our erections together. Now and again one or the other would feel the other's hardness, then fondle the softness below. Neither of us knew if we wanted to use our hands there to bring matters to finality, or whether just to enjoy the continuing stimulation of body on body. Matters did come to a head, though, when we each, by coincidence, started moving up and down the other's body, rather than gently around it to engage the erection as much as possible.

This new movement engaged our foreskins, and inevitably, it happened. He moaned and started breathing deeper and faster. This made me approach the climax too, so strong were my feelings for him, and just before my own orgasm he gave a low cry and I felt shot after shot of warm stickiness hit me on and between the nipples, on the stomach, then on the belly. It ran in trickles down our bodies and onto the sheets whilst adding to the slipperiness between us. Mine followed just as he was subsiding, and added to it, but we neither of us cared for we were holding each other as tightly as a subsiding orgasm will allow. I swear that if it had been possible for me to push and push so that my torso amalgamated with his I would have done it so that I could be him, and be me at the same time.

A long time previously we had thrown off the thin covering because of the heat. When I woke, three hours or so later, I was wet and freezing, and our juices had partly set on the heat of our bodies so parts of us were stiff to the touch. Also I needed the toilet.

As I went, I picked up the cover and gently pulled it over the bed. I was just turning away when my shadow shifted off his face, and for the first time I saw him asleep.

I know I'm a sentimental fool, that really happy endings to emotional films make me cry. But I challenge anyone to see that face and not be moved.

Totally at peace, the natural set of the muscles gave a look of complete serenity. The lips formed, not a smile, but a gentle, infinitesimal tilt to the corners which said as clear as if he was saying the words: "I'm happy." With this angel-like countenance was also that small-boy look of complete, heart-wrenching vulnerability that mothers and elder brothers can't resist.

I couldn't.

That made my mind up for me. I was staying with him. I was sorry for the other two, and hoped they'd be my friends, and the four of us might play together, or even play with each other, together.

But I was staying with him.

We were very tired the next morning. Robert and I were late to breakfast and got some add looks from some of the monitors who were starting to clear up. Of my two old room-mates there was no sign. We stood with each other at assembly, and I supposed Jimmy and Colin were at the back, as usual. After we had heard all they had to say about the day, which was basically that for us it was to be an academic learning day, we hugged each other: he went off to his session – a practical one, I realised with a pang of jealousy – and I turned to try and find the other two. To my surprise, Jimmy was right behind me. He greeted me with an oddly shy smile.

"Hallo." I started more formally than usual.

He said nothing, but just looked at me.

"What's the matter?"

"You're going to leave us."

I was lost for words. This was the last way I'd have thought of to tell them.

"What d'you mean?"

"We saw you two together after the fight. Colin didn't say anything, but just looked. Then he said you wouldn't be back to us."

"What made him say that?"

"He said you two were just right for each other, and we mustn't stand in the way." His eyes filled. "Tell me it's not true. Say you'll come back!" And he flung his arms round me. What could I do but hug him back? But I felt like a rat.

"Jimmy, look at me. I'm sorry. I don't want to leave you two, but what can I do? I just spent a night with Robert, and he's even better looking than Colin, or you. And he seems to think the same way about me."

"But I love you, too," he wailed. "I don't want you to go. Colin hasn't done anything all night, so I know he's unhappy."

"I know. I'm sorry. But what would you do if it was you who had fallen even deeper in love?"

There was silence for a long time. I was just about to speak again, to say again that I was sorry, when he fixed me with so adult a stare that I was stunned. You know when a teacher or a boss is about to tell you you've done something very wrong? It was that look. Coming from an otherwise more or less carefree eleven year old it was transfixing.

"I'd be loyal to my friends." The voice was shaky. He turned away and walked off down the corridor.

Now I didn't feel like a rat any more. I felt like rat droppings.

I had to follow him to the classrooms. He, Colin and I were all in separate classes: Robert would have been in mine. All the morning I was silent, and when break came I made an excuse and went to sit on a toilet to try and sort out my emotions and thoughts, without success.

Similarly lunchtime brought no solace. I found myself falling in with Robert – or rather he fell in with me.

"Something's happened, hasn't it? What's the matter?"

I shook my head. I couldn't talk about it yet. He sat beside me at lunch, and when we were waiting for food to appear he put his hand on my thigh. The other two had never done that. How long could my indecision, started again by Jimmy's distraught face and his accusing words, last? How long could any of it last? That started a hare running in my mind. I turned to Robert and spoke for the first time that morning.

"How much longer have you got here?"

He looked at me strangely, then took his hand off my leg.

"I thought we could at least have some good times before that came up. I've got another six weeks."

Six weeks! I'd got another ten months, so had Colin and Jimmy!

"But… but… I'm here for ages longer than that! What am I going to do once you've gone?"

"I don't know. I hoped you'd contact me when you came out. I'd wait for you."

That was new. I hadn't got that far yet.

"But that means another nine months without you."

He said nothing.

"What am I going to do? Where would you be, anyway?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Where do you live? Would you go back there?"

"Don't know. They'd not have me back at home, so I'd go wherever they sent me from here."

"Can't you stay in Spain and keep going to the club? I'd see you twice a week then."

He laughed. "I shouldn't think they'd let me come back here. I've got no passport, no money, and no means of getting either. Besides, d'you know what it costs to get into one of those clubs?"

"You'd have plenty of money with all that you've earnt here."

"Not that much. I only got a six month sentence. I want to live in England, and I need everything to be able to set up there."

"But what about me?"

Silence.

"Look, I love you very much, and what I want to do is to set up in England so we could both live there. I can't spend money on living here and visiting the club, there just isn't enough. I know it's tough, but it's as bad for me as it is for you, you know."

Would it be? Did he really know what he meant to me after just one night?

"I've got to think," I said desperately. "There must be a way round it. Can't I escape and go with you?"

He laughed. "There's as much chance of making it away from here and staying uncaught as there is flying to the moon."

I suddenly thought of Gary, and his offer to give me a home. But then he wanted me for himself, not to share me with someone else. But was it worth a try?

"I've got an idea," I said. "There's this guy – my first client ever, actually – who was also new to the game and wanted to give me a home. He would hide me, and he might even get me back to Britain."

"Where you'd be on the run, and searched for, and sent back here to face the music."

I was silent again. It was almost as if he didn't want me with him.

"You don't want me with you, really, do you?" There. I'd said it.

But he looked at me with those eyes. "YES! Yes. How do I tell you? Yes, I do. But I know I've got to look after us both first. Let me set up a home, then I can wait for you."

It sounded attractive. But I still was hesitating. I finally made up my mind to think about it more. In fact I wanted to talk about it all to someone. I told him I wanted to sleep on it.

"Aren't you sleeping with me, then?"

Damn. "Let me think. I need time on my own."

He was reluctant.

"Don't let anybody else get to you. I want you. Remember."

I nodded. Nobody would 'get' to me. I just wanted advice. And Colin was, after all, the only other person who was old enough, who I knew and could trust. He was also heavily involved.

But I couldn't find him anywhere.

Through the rest of that lunch I searched. The only place I didn't go was the obvious one, the old bedroom. If he was there then Jimmy was with him, and I couldn't face the two together in those surroundings. Eventually I waited just out of sight, down the corridor, until it was nearly time for lessons to start again and was about to walk away when it struck me that if they were in there they would have to come out when the buzzers went. I waited. The buzzer sounded just above my head, making me jump. After a bit the door opened slowly and Jimmy came out, closing the door behind him. Do I ask him, or do I wait?

I'd spoken to Jimmy already. I'd wait.

I was there for a long time. Nothing happened. Realising I was going to be late, whatever happened, I started walking to the classroom area. As I passed the door I hesitated. What if he was in there? Now would be a good time. Perhaps it was even worth the usual punishment…

I knocked. There was no answer. I opened the door. Technically it was still my room, after all.

My heart skipped a beat. He was there. He was sitting on the end of bed, leaning forward, his head in both hands. He never moved.

"Colin?"

Hearing my voice he looked up.

Was it possible that my actions were really responsible for making him look so ghastly? His face was white, apart from the reddened eyes and two red blotches where his hands had been supporting his head. I'd never in my knowledge of him seen him looking so awful. Not only white and drained, but actively ill.

"Oh, christ," I said.

I couldn't just leave him like that. And I couldn't just ask his advice when he was in that state. Love or no love I just had to cross to him and put my arms round him. He made no response.

"Oh Colin," I said, and I could feel the tears start in my own eyes. For ages we sat there, my arms around him still, and both weeping onto each others' laps.

The door crashed open. A monitor stood there, looking impatient. I have to say that our impression on him made his face soften, and his voice, when eventually he barked one of the usual monosyllables that count as orders, was softer too.

"You. Come."

This was to both of us. But we were neither in a fit state to be seen by anyone. I tried. "Please… two minutes?"

"Now." The voice was harder again. I supported Colin and he rose, unsteadily. We padded after the monitor who led us, not to the classrooms, but to the Principal's office. He knocked, and in a more respectful tone, introduced us.

"Ah yes," he started as the man withdrew. "You two. Sit down."

"It seems you have a problem, I see. I was going to demand an explanation as to why you were not in class. What has happened?"

I was less choked up.

"There's been a… um… er…" I tailed off.

"You mean that you have found someone who you prefer, and in deciding to stay with him, have caused a lot of hurt."

Blunt, but I couldn't have put it better. I just nodded.

"You realise that Fraser leaves here shortly, that he will be put in care until he is sixteen, and then has to fend for himself?"

I looked at him agape, suddenly realising that Robert had either not realised, or not been told, about the care part of it.

"He has not told you? But then he does not perhaps know. But if he imagines he will be welcome at his parents' home he has to think again. That he does know."

"He knows he can't go there, sir. But…" I swallowed. "He thinks he will be able to get a house or a flat and live there."

"What, at fifteen? Don't be silly. Nor will you at fifteen when you leave here. He will," indicating Colin, "Because he will be eighteen. In fact he could provide a home for you and Jimmy. In fact that is what we had rather imagined would happen since the three of you were so, er, together."

I looked at him stupidly again. Was our future already mapped out?

I felt Colin stir. In a tight voice he said: "I'm not sure I want to."

There was a pause. The Principal spoke again. "What will happen is that Fraser will go to Britain and will go to a children's home for the next two years, I don't know where. Naturally he will not be able to send letters here, so none of us will know where he is. When you three are released you will also return to Britain – in fact you will not be officially released until you are in Britain. Accommodation will then be found for you for two months until you have been able to make your own arrangements. If you decide not to take the other two with you then they will be released to their parents or, if they will not accept them, they too will be put into a home until they are sixteen. I cannot say if it will be the same home as Fraser. It may, or it may not. There will be no way of contacting him."

This was too much for me. "But we're in love! You can't separate us! I've got to be with him!" The Principal's face grew thunderous, then cleared as he regained control of himself.

"You do not tell me what I must or mustn't do, boy. I decide that. You should know some things about Fraser, though. When he was brought here it was partly because of an offence like yours, but also to get him away from parents who had been making him perform sexual acts with adults since the age of four. If you don't believe what I say, ask him. He has been the subject of so much pornography that he knows little else. He needs to be kept away from his parents and their inclinations so that no harm will come to him and so he can get some balance into his life. At the moment all he knows is sex. I'm sorry to say that what you think is love is really just a need for sexual fulfilment and release. I feel sorry for him, because although all of you are by nature sexual animals even at your early ages, he is in an advanced stage of addiction to it. He's also very good looking, which is what has attracted you and many before you.

"I'm sorry, so very sorry. It's a hard lesson to learn at any age, but especially when you're only just embarking on your romantic life. To give the boy any chance at all he has to settle for a few years into a normal family, then he can make up his own mind."

"But sir, if he needs to be cured from an addiction, why is he here?"

"Because the legal system sent him here. Because what we do is the only way he can get a good financial start in life. And believe me, he's good at it. Too good, because of his background. He'll be a wealthy young man at sixteen."

My brain was in a mess. That's not what he had told me. I could think of nothing to say. Colin was silent, too.

"All right," said the Principal resignedly. "Let me know what you each decide. You've got two days."

Silently we left the office. Silently we walked – together – down the passages. Silently I found myself going with Colin into our old room. Silently we sat on the bed. Silently he put his arm round me.

I burst into tears.

He said nothing, he did nothing. He just sat for ages with his arm round me. When my tears ran out I sat, tense and still, staring in misery at the wall. If I'd been alone I'd have curled up into a little ball and stayed there until time or hunger cured me. My body still craved for Robert with every fibre. But my mind knew that it was hopeless desire, that it would never last, that I'd never find him again, that if I did he'd not be in a position to welcome me even if, by then, he wanted to.

The fourteen year old mind can so easily be overruled by the body. Mine was. But in this case the mind was so final about it that the body had at least to pay lip service to what it was being told. Although it still needed Robert, it could respond to other stimuli.

Impatiently I shook my head, then turned to look at Colin.

"Well, it looks as if you've got me back." I was cruel, I know, but it was the cruelty of anger against the situation, not dislike at Colin.

"I wish you'd never have gone," he said, in a voice that suggested that tears were not far away for him either. "As you feel about Robert, I feel about you."

This was a new aspect on events. I'd never realised he felt that deeply.

"You can't know how I feel about Robert. It's more than love. It's… oh, I don't know."

"I do know. Because I can't manage without you either. All day since I realised what had happened I've been walking round like a zombie. I've got a punishment tomorrow because of it."

"Oh… oh no. Oh, I'm sorry."

My volatile emotions had started to swing. He had been given one of the institution's painful, degrading punishments because of me. I remembered how I'd seen him when I went into the room earlier. He had looked like death warmed up. Perhaps he did know how I felt, after all. Perhaps I'd been very silly and gone off on what my mother used to call a wild infatuation. Perhaps I'd caused more misery than I new.

But I still wanted Robert's body by me.

I lay back on the bed, tired and stiff with sitting so still for so long in one position. Colin moved his arm from behind me.

"Do you want me to lie with you?" the voice was still quavery, uncertain. I couldn't believe that I was responsible for the breakdown of this positive, fun-loving seventeen-year-old's equanimity. At the moment his presence was better than non at all. All thoughts of being on my own had vanished.

We lay together, his arm around my neck. He made no move, just lay there, sometimes on his side looking at me and other times on his back as I was.

The afternoon passed.

I felt, when the buzzer went to signal the end of the afternoon's lessons, that I was on a more even keel. I couldn't bring myself to kiss Colin yet, but I knew the time would come.

"I'm sorry," I said at last.

He stirred, and lifted himself onto his side again to look at me. "What for?"

"Being a fool. I'd just not expected anything like that to happen. What am I going to do now?"

"Come back to us. To me."

"You mean you'd have me, even knowing I'd been with someone else?"

"It's only three years back I was fourteen. I know how difficult it is to judge people when you're blinded by beauty."

I remembered being blinded by his good looks too. What sort of a bloke was I? Someone who throws themselves at the nearest good looking thing with a cock?

"How do I keep out of his way?"

"I don't know if you can. You'll have to be strong. If you weaken once or twice, I suppose I can live with it, so long as you come back to me."

I whimpered. He looked at me enquiringly.

"You make it sound very easy," I said.

"I need you," he said again.

My body's screaming for Robert grew quieter.

"Let me adjust to what I've been through today. Then I'll know what to do." I remember sounding very adult about it, but I suppose I was trolling out the sort of things the heroine says in the films.

"All right. But don't forget. I need you. Do you want me to come with you?"

I was about to answer when the door opened and Jimmy came in. When he saw us both on the bed he stopped as if pole-axed, then gave a wild whoop and shouted "he's back!", before flinging himself beside me on the bed and giving me a big bear hug. I had to return it; he'd have been disappointed if I hadn't.

It seemed my mind had been made up for me. Colin never realised what it was that sorted me out finally, but that was it. Jimmy.

Chapter 23
Partial Cure

I was eventually freed from them to sort myself out alone. Whenever I thought of Robert I felt sick that I wouldn't be able to spend the rest of my life with him. I mean physically sick. And numbed. But then some sort of common sense would click in, and I realised that he probably didn't actually want to spend all the time with me, but just have me available in case he wanted sex or couldn't find it elsewhere. Even in my infatuated state I knew that was no basis for a friendship, let alone a permanent relationship. I still didn't know what to do about him, but at least I knew I had my comfortable bolt-hole to run to with Colin and Jimmy. And Colin had given me carte blanche to spend some nights with Robert if I wanted to.

I remembered back to Chris's appeal to me to spend the night with him when Billy had been away, and my response about long term partners. The knowledge that I should be upholding my own standards was not a help: rather it split my mind even more. I reached a decision of sorts. Firstly I needed to ask Colin if he really meant that he wouldn't mind if I spent the occasional night with Robert, and secondly I needed a long session talking to Robert to see if he was aware of what was going to happen. I wanted it all to be in that order, but I wasn't expecting to bump into Robert as I wandered aimlessly round the grounds, trying to sort myself out.

But that's what happened. And the first thing he said to me was: "A fine friend you've turned out to be!"

"What do you mean?"

"You went straight back to your boyfriend and told him everything!"

I didn't need this. For one of the few times in my life I lost my temper. "Now just you wait a minute. I went to find Colin to tell him about us. We were called into the Principal who told us about you, and how you're leaving here in six weeks and going into a children's home, and how when you come out I shan't be able to find you again, nor you me. He told us you knew this and weren't letting on. How's that for not telling me the truth? Who's the fine friend now?"

He was silent.

"Is that what he said?"

"Yes, and you know it's true."

"They told me I was earning money to get a place of my own."

"Yes, but not at fifteen! They must have told you that!"

Silence again.

"Well, that's it, then."

"What d'you mean?" I asked.

"I thought I could settle down with you, that we'd be together for always."

"You know you couldn't. The first pretty face you saw, you'd be after him."

"Yours is a pretty face."

It was my turn for silence.

I once again didn't know what to do. Thoughts and desires floated around my mind like motes of dust in a draft. Something eventually clicked – I don't know why, because I'd always been someone who avoids the making of decisions like the plague. I could see a way which would perhaps please me, please him, and keep faith with my two lovers.

"Robert, I want you like hell. I just don't trust the situation. I've talked to Colin, as you said, and he doesn't mind if I spend some nights with you…"

"That's good of him. Very kind." The tone was sarcastic.

"Don't spoil what I'm going to say. I stand to lose everything, don't forget, if I do the wrong thing now. I want you, and if you do want me as much as you say you'll accept that, and the fact that I can't be with you every night. If I did stop being with Colin and Jimmy, when you go I'd have nothing, no friends, and certainly no lovers, and nobody else would trust me. So while you're here I'll come to you when I can.

"If you take anyone else to bed, I'll give up on you. When you've gone, I'll go back to Colin and Jimmy full time. When we get released I think I'll be unwelcome at home, and will stay with Colin as he's old enough to have a home of his own. If I can find you, I will, or if you can find us when you get out, and you haven't found anyone else you prefer, and if we still want each other… well, we'll see what happens.

"Is that it?"

"Yes."

"It's not enough."

"I haven't got anything else I can do. If you had the same length of time here as the rest of us things would be different. But the rest of my life could depend on what I do now. I don't want to get sent to a home, and I'm sorry you're going to have to. But there's really no hope of us finding each other after six months away from here, is there? It's not as if any letter you write will get here."

"What?!!"

"How d'you mean, What? Have you had any letters while you've been here?"

"No. But nobody would want to write to me."

"Well. I never said goodbye to my parents. I was hurried away to the police station. I know they'll have written, even if only to say they don't want to see me any more. Other people know they should have had letters too, but nobody's had any."

"You mean that even if I wrote, you'd not get it?"

"I'm sure I wouldn't."

"But what if I wrote to your home?"

"Well, it depends what they think about me. If they have written and haven't heard back they may think I'm dead or something. So perhaps it would be an idea if you wrote and at least told them I was alive. They'd know there was something wrong, then, but they'd stop worrying so much."

"And what would you do when you came out?"

He was insistent, I say that for him.

"I'd make contact with them as soon as I could get to a phone."

"Then give me their address and phone number. No, not now, before I go. I'll write to them and tell them you're all right, and when you're due out I'll write again asking them to let me know where you are."

"Would you? Thank you. You'd better memorise the address. But nearer the time, or you'll forget it."

"I'll write it down."

"Where will you keep it? Don't you think they search our rooms?"

"I'd not thought of that."

So that's how we left it. I told him that I'd sleep in my old room usually, and come to him once or twice a week. Following the Principal's comments and Colin's exhortations I still didn't know whether or not to believe him fully, although he certainly sounded genuine. But the physical side of me, the part that told my brain that I must have him with me, was more at peace now. In fact it was exultant, because it knew I could play with Jimmy and Colin, and have an even deeper physical contact with Robert. The mental side was still calling me an unfaithful rat, though.

After the excitements, the trauma and the anguish of the day the three of us turned in early to our joint bed. Colin was extra attentive, I thought, but Jimmy was his usual self. I will admit to lying back on the bed, stretched out, and letting them do what they would with me. It was very warm, their love; their bodies were exciting and anxious, and they gave me a great amount of physical pleasure between them. In fact they were so good at making me forget everything but their caresses all over me, their manipulations with hands, mouths, penises, testicles, and with body liquids and manmade lubricants that I never thought once about Robert until I had been fitted with my collection condom and been made to have an orgasm in the name of profit, of money for our joint future and, I suppose in the name of their love for me. Then I remembered, and fell silent. They thought I was just exhausted, and as they started to give pleasure to each other I fell asleep..

The next morning saw me a little bit more decisive about spending a few nights with Robert, but most of the time with 'my two'. Having re-read what I've said about the last previous days I come out of it very badly, with no morals and even less decisiveness or fairness on anybody. In my own defence I'd say that I didn't feel I was coming out of it very well either, that I was fourteen and confused, and that any sense of moral values had long since been shot to pieces by the legal exposure at home and school and court, by the physical exposure as I started in the institution, and by the sexual exposure and acts ever since.

I was not on an even keel, but I could go about my business fairly adequately. Until, of course, it occurred to me that both Colin and I would almost certainly receive punishment for skipping lessons the previous afternoon. To give myself more credit I did promise myself that if it came to it I would take all the blame to myself. I still had very few pubic hairs to pull out, so let them do it.

To my surprise, nothing happened. The three of us and Blondie were told to meet in the Principal's office before going on to classes – academic – but only this gave us anything to worry about. Once dismissed, we reported there. He told Blondie to wait outside for the moment.

"So what has happened between the three of you since yesterday?"

We looked at each other. It seemed up to me.

"We've talked, sir, and I'm staying with them. Colin has said he doesn't mind me visiting Robert from time to time. I've spoken with Robert and he accepts that."

"I see. Well I'm not happy about that. You stay with one group only unless you're put with someone else. You do not spread your favours around. As it is we have made an exception to allow the three of you to be together because you are a natural trio and to do otherwise would have resulted in a very young inmate being on his own. As it is we have a fourteen year old inmate on his own. You see, it strikes me that it would be better if we moved you in with him anyway so we have two fourteen year olds who are naturally attracted to each other, together. Then we couldn't have a seventeen year old with an eleven year old, so we'd have to split you up. You'd go in with the other youngsters, and you'd be alone."

This last was to Colin. I looked at the Principal with dismay on my face.

"But Sir, you couldn't split Jimmy and Colin up, they'd be heartbroken!"

"Don't tell me what I can or can't do, boy! I've told you before. This is all your doing anyway."

"Sir…" I added desperately. "Don't split anyone up except me and Robert. I'll stay with Colin and Jimmy, and…" I thought, again desperately. "… I promise I won't tell you what to do again."

I don't know what made me say this. Perhaps it was just that when I had said something remotely amusing to him before he had softened momentarily. I notice that I seem able to do this to some in authority. As it was, he actually laughed.

"I don't want to split up two people who are really attracted to each other."

"They are, sir. That's why I couldn't split them up."

"I meant you and Robert. So you're doing this for these two, not for yourself?"

"No sir. I mean, yes – for all three of us." I was getting myself lost in the forest of words. "How about you two? Do you want him back with you, or should we let him stay with his new friend?"

"He belongs to us," chimed in Jimmy. "We'll look after him."

Colin said, slowly: "We want him, sir, if that's what is going to make him happiest. I need him more than he knows."

I nearly cried at this. How could I be so cruel to someone who could say that to an adult?

"And is that going to make you happiest?"

I nodded, unable to speak. My mind was, in truth, still blowing with the wind. But the Principal had made it up for me. If I couldn't get to sleep with Robert, there was nothing I could do. But he hadn't finished yet.

"Right. You three are together again, and together you will stay. If you do go to sleep with the other one I shall find out about it, and you will be punished. And I mean punished. Not just a handful of hairs from your manhood, boy, but something we haven't had to use yet. If you prove yourself to be an easy target in the way you have been going on, we shall show you what it's like to be a really easy target. I would dislike having to do it to you, but you would spend a night with the monitors."

He paused for this to sink in. I must say that his double standards struck me even then. We were being trained to have sex with each other all day in one way or another, and to hawk our favours round a night club two nights a week. But he wanted us to be monogamous when it came to night times. How could this be? But I didn't argue. The last thing on earth I wanted was to have multiple rape performed on me by the ugly monitors, which I was convinced is what he was angling at.

"Sir. But please, sir, could you tell Robert what you've said?"

"You don't think he'll take it from you? Very well. But you need to do so as well."

As if to underline the double standards he started on another tack.

"Call the other one in, please."

Colin went to the door and beckoned Blondie in.

"The other day you all appeared before a group of people to do with making a film. I'm glad to say, though not surprised in view of your performance there, that they are giving you the opportunity to take the parts. On Wednesday you will be driven to their site under the supervision of one of the monitors. While you are there you will do exactly as you are told: if you do not you will lose the opportunity of earning more money than few others get the chance of, and you will also receive punishments – notice the plural – from us here. This is an opportunity to get work for all your colleagues here, so they can easily amass enough money to make good lives for themselves when they leave. "Any questions?"

"What's the film about, sir?"

"You'll find out when you're there. In fact, they've not told me."

"What is the pay, sir?"

He named a figure. It was impressive.

We agreed.

For some reason we were all three excited about making a film. In the back of our minds was the knowledge that it would involve nudity, but we were so used to that and more on a daily basis that it didn't matter. We discussed all sorts of possible stories that would involve four naked boys, some of which we should have written down and sold to a film maker. Some were violent, some were sexy: we talked about them all so lightly. We knew that they could never actually happen. It never dawned on us that what was springing to our imaginations could also be springing to the minds of others: other people who would use boys' bodies for pain and defiling.

Tuesday passed without anything untoward happening. I found Robert, and spoke to him: the most difficult interview I had experienced to date. He was obviously as affected as I was: lovesickness may be born of the mind and the emotions, but it's as debilitating as severe flu, especially if you're young and it's your first time. I don't want to say too much more about it, because it still hurts me now.

I wasn't very good company that night, and didn't sleep very well. Jimmy gave up on me out of frustration, but Colin… Colin, I treated you so badly that night, and you never wavered once from your understanding. You just kept me warm, and held me when I needed support, and looked after me as I slept. I can never thank you properly.

So it was a rather spaced out Paul who accompanied his friends and Blondie to a waiting minibus the next morning.

We could see nothing from the bus as its windows were blacked out and there was a solid partition between the driver and us. We had seen the back door, the only door, being locked, and knew that it was useless to try it, even if we had known what to do if we got out, or could speak the language. We hadn't really thought of escape before, but travelling alone made our minds bend to the idea.

The journey was long. The bus was hot. I quickly nodded off, my head lying on Colin's shoulder. When I awoke, I had a thumping headache, a crick in my neck and felt sick. I told Colin. He looked at me and nodded, and went forward to the partition. A few moments of knocking brought the bus to a halt, and a voice said "What the matter?"

"One of us feels sick. We're too hot. Can we get some air, please, and have a drink?"

There was some muttering in Spanish and we heard a door slam. Keys rattled at the back door, which opened to reveal one of the monitors. The cooler air flooded into the bus, much to our relief.

"Who sick?" he asked.

"I am. I feel… oh…"

I got up and hurriedly pushed past him. He stood in the way so that the others couldn't see. The other door slammed as the driver got out too.

I looked frantically around. There was a bush at the side of the road. I managed to reach it before the inevitable happened and I collapsed by it, returning my breakfast to nature. When it was over I sat down a short distance away and hugged my knees unhappily, but strangely felt physically better. There seemed to be an argument in progress by the bus. I looked. Colin was trying to get out, but the overweight monitor was keeping him in by the simple expedient of just standing in the way, holding his legs.

"Please," I called, "have you any water?"

Grumbling again, the driver went to the cab and fetched a bottle which he gave to me. As I washed out my mouth and then cautiously drank some he watched me. I tried to read his face, but couldn't. I just disliked him, and not just for what he was. I stood up, feeling a bit giddy still, and sat down hurriedly again.

"Can't you let the others out, please? It's very hot in there."

"I let out, you run."

"No, no. We don't know where we are. We're in the middle of nowhere and besides, you've got the bus. You could catch us in no time. And I feel giddy."

He looked at his friend, who nodded. Colin was out like a shot, and Jimmy and Blondie very shortly afterwards.

We sat in the shade of another bush, out of the sun's rays, while I recovered.

"Is it much further?" I asked.

"Ten kilometres [six miles]."

Well, that wasn't too bad. I could stand that. It was actually rather more than the six miles [10 km] he had said, eight [13 km] would probably have been nearer the mark unless we were going slowly. At long last the bus slowed, words were shouted and it began manoeuvring around buildings, or so we assumed. I felt almost back to normal by this time, although hot and still thirsty. Finally we stopped, footsteps approached the back of the bus, the door was unlocked. We piled out, looking for the large buildings and set pieces we knew from seeing videos about Hollywood. But there was a house – quite large, but still a house – and behind it, just visible, were some outbuildings. But the other way, past the bus and over the edge of a low cliff, wonders on wonders, was the sea.

"Is this it?" asked Colin. He was not answered. A man was walking from the house towards us, and the attention of the monitors was focussed on him. Tall, with a thatch of white hair, he had an air of authority about him which increased as he came nearer. Close to, I felt as though I was a particularly dirty fly being examined before being squashed. He had that supercilious expression that only headmasters, senior politicians, and those think they are more superior than they are, can perfect. To a downhearted, uncertain fourteen year old the effect was dispiriting. By my side I felt Jimmy squirming. Only Colin seemed to be returning his stare. I couldn't tell Blondie's reaction.

"Good. Follow me." That was all he said. Meekly we did so. He walked straight to the house and we found ourselves ushered into a plush office. The monitors were about to come in too, but he motioned them to stay outside.

He looked us over, very carefully. "Good," he said again. "Very good. When my men told me he had found some good subjects for us I was pleased. He was right. You are good. You will fit the roles in my film very well. How much have you been told?"

Colin acted as the spokesman. "Only that you're making a film, and it involves boys with our… um… training. Sir."

"Very well. My business is making films for people with specialised needs. Specialised sexual needs. Sometimes these are quite specific, but the one you are to be involved in is quite simply one for those who like watching young boys in action. By young boys I mean anyone up to about sixteen, but we needed someone older for this one, for reasons that will become clear as we proceed.

"I'm told that your training enables you to take your clothes off without being embarrassed. Is that so?"

"Yes sir," said our spokesman.

"And the touch and manipulation of each others' bodies, specifically the genital organs and that general area, is something you're used to and perhaps even enjoy?"

"Yes, sir." This time with a little less conviction. He was thinking about actions like that being performed in public, in front of strangers.

"And are you in the same physical condition in those areas as you were when my man saw you?"

"How do you mean, sir?"

"I mean have any of you had any injuries, or been circumcised, or shaved?"

"No sir!" He was emphatic and indignant about that. Circumcised or shaved indeed! The thought of the possibility of being circumcised while at the Institution lodged in my gut like a dagger, though. Circumcised! Like a baby! At fourteen! My penis shrivelled under my clothes.

"Very well. Now, most of this film will rely on each of you reacting as naturally as possible to the situation at the time, one that we will tell you how to develop. Tomorrow we start the main plot, but today I want you to demonstrate what you can do, and get used to the cameras and crew being there. We may – we will – do some shooting then, so we can see how you come through, and we'll probably film in the studio this evening if you react properly. We'll have an early start tomorrow though, to try and get it all done by Friday. We don't waste time. And your institution gets paid no more whether you're here for three days or a week, and as what you receive is tied to that, neither do you. So it's in your interest to do well, because time is money for you too."

He pressed a button on his desk.

"I'll get one of our people to show you to where you'll sleep. We've got a room each for you, so you'll be comfortable…"

This was news. Nobody had mentioned staying here. But I wanted company.

"Please, sir," I butted in, "we three sleep together."

Blondie snorted, I don't know why. Perhaps he was jealous.

The man looked at me. I felt my insides trying to contract away from my rib cage.

"I see," he said slowly. "Very well. There is a double bed, but it's in the studio. We can lock the door… yes. That's not a bad idea." He turned to Blondie. "You don't sleep with them too, I suppose?"

"No sir."

The first adult of a normal appearance that I had seen all day entered the room, and we followed him on our guided tour. The studio was in the outbuildings at the back of the house, and consisted of four rooms surrounding a fifth which was the control room. It was quite well set up. One of the rooms was furnished partly as a bedroom, and we guessed this was where we were due to sleep. Apart from being overlooked by the glass-walled control room it was all right, and the bed was already beckoning me. I wondered what Robert was doing.

Another of the rooms seemed to be still set for a previous film. It showed the inside of a fairly large shed, with tables and chairs set round, and two posts down the middle fixed as if to support a mythical roof. The third was a kitchen and the fourth a living room, both quite unremarkable.

Blondie was shown his room, and I wished him well with it. It was very small and mean compared with our film set! As we returned to the studio we noticed more and more men appearing. Two arrived with bundles of clothes which they carefully hung in the wardrobe and put in the chests of drawers in our 'room'.

When it had all settled down, the owner returned and told us to sit on the bed.

"The first part of this story, and we may as well shoot it now, as you're sleeping here, starts with you three in bed together, but not as lovers. You're dressed just in underpants. You wake up, get out of bed, then strip off your underwear and head for the shower. I think we'll have you two first – what are your names?"

"I'm Colin, and he's Jimmy, sir."

"Right. That means the camera here, Stan, and we'll get just a back shot as they strip off at the end of the bed, and follow it through and into the shower. You two will get in the shower together, but don't turn on the water."

"What do I do, sir?" I asked.

"You stay in bed all the time. We film you later. Right. Strip of, all of you, down to your pants."

"We don't wear any, sir."

"What? Oh, I see. There are some in that drawer. Make sure they fit, will you?"

We rummaged around and did so, or so we thought. Feeling a bit foolish we returned to where we had been standing.

"Well go on then, get undressed!"

It was like the first day at the institution, almost. There were men dashing about all over the place, and watching us closely were two camera men and three others. I thought my usual mental shrug, and pulled down my shorts. The underwear I had picked – sports briefs which hid me back and front but rode high up at the sides – were far too small. I looked at Jimmy's, and found they were larger, so we swapped. Covered once more, we looked at each other.

Why do clothes sometimes make people look sexier than when they're naked? Jimmy appeared even sweeter and more childlike than normal, while Colin looked almost macho. I could feel the inevitable reaction starting, so I led the way into the bed. They followed. We feigned sleep. They 'woke' us to tell us to tousle our hair. We did.

"Boys 23, Scene 1, take 1."

"Roll camera."

I was impressed.

A mock alarm clock sounded. With no rehearsal we quite naturally appeared to awaken and stretched. Except me. I turned over to face the camera so I could see what was happening, but continued to feign sleep. The other two muttered something about a shower, then Jimmy got out and stretched beautifully, showing off his muscular but thin little body, and then Colin joined him, and did the same as if to contrast the two. He had arranged a suggestive bulge in his pants, I noticed. He said "come on, we'll save time by sharing a shower," and without hesitation stripped off his underwear. Jimmy followed suit, and they turned towards the shower. The camera followed them. Then "Cut!"

I knew then I was in the pictures, big time.

NEXT PART