Date: Thu, 01 Sep 2005 23:45:42 +0100
From: jason argo <jacklloyd22@hotmail.com>
Subject: Hard Work for Hardwick  M/b

"Run to the wall - and back! Run to the wall - and back!" Each screech of Mr
Hardwick's voice sent a dozen boys racing to the side of the gymnasium to
touch the wall and then hurtle back to their starting place in the centre of
the floor.

It was part of his routine. Groups of them came to him daily, either for
dance, deportment or gymnastics, disciplines both he and the headmistress
considered imperative for developing grace and elegance in young people.
Hardwick's entire adult life had revolved around ballet, and he insisted
that when pupils came to him  they dressed as near as possible to emulate
the students of the School of Ballet he had long served. Tight, shape
hugging navy blue knickers and sleeveless white singlets were the order of
the day, and invariably each of his lessons began with a lengthy session of
ecarte and echappe at the barre, which he counterbalanced with a vigorous
circuit workout before everyone departed.

"Stand still!" he bellowed. "And now adjust your dress."

Without a word each of the boys pushed up his singlets beneath his armpits
and rolled his knickers down onto his hips until they resembled skimpy
bikini briefs - tight little pants holding precariously onto the contours of
small, cute bottoms.

"We'll conclude with an exercise in deportment. Right hand on right hip and
mince forward."

As his students moved across the room in small dainty steps he watched them
closely. It was a shame that the headmistress refused to provide the small
expense of equipping them all with high heeled shoes and nylons for
deportment practise, but even so most of them managed a deliciously alluring
sashay. "Swing your pelvis, Fifi. Roll your bottoms all of you."

Apart from his work boys were Hardwick's only interest in life, and one of
the indulgences he allowed himself was the freedom to observe their bodies.
Despite matron regularly dosing them with hormones they were not yet
curvaceous in a feminine way, but their slight stature lent them lissom
delicacy, while the absence of adipose tissue allowed smooth flesh
structured around small bones and immature muscle to present an enticing
effect. He often congratulated himself on how fortunate he was to have
employment that combined work and personal interests so closely.

"Running on the spot - begin! Up, up, up!"

They were the last batch for that day, and at such times when the mood was
with him he enjoyed viewing plenty of bare skin as he meandered between
their open ranks.

"Knees up higher, Nicola! Keep your arms by your side, Zoe!" Adjusting their
clothes he explained to his students, gave their hot bodies needed
ventilation, but none of them fell for that line. They knew he was a perv',
and yet in the vanity that resulted from constant sissification some of them
quite enjoyed his lascivious inspection and delighted in teasing him by
pushing out their chests and wickedly showing off their tiny pale nipples
whenever he passed near.

"Up, up, up - annnnd stop! Trudy stay here, the rest of the class is
dismissed."

With a veritable whoosh and scampering of feet the bulk of his pupils dashed
off like so many wood-nymphs. Usually Hardwick would have followed them to
the showers to watch as the water washed over their slender forms and around
their hairless young cocks, but that day he turned to the pensive youngster
left behind.

Trudy slouched with his weight on one foot, the pose accentuating the swell
of the opposing hip. The dark fringe of his hair was long, but it didn't
hide the despondent expression in his downcast eyes as he stared blankly at
the pattern of the tutors shoes.

What a stunner! thought Hardwick. Slim with nice legs and a narrow waist,
and with his pants still slung low and his vest draped across the top of his
chest, he was quite as attractive as any lad at the School of Ballet. Rather
willowy, but a handsome child all the same. Nice dense hair, black, cut neat
and brushed smart. He had a nice face too, with twinkling eyes and a
sensuous little mouth. His cheeks were flushed, the rosy tinge not solely a
product of vigorous exercise. Wow! He was a beauty! As good as a girl.
Better than a girl! Just licking his face would make some men jack-off in
their trousers.

His shoe tapped ominously against the floor and he put on a suitably severe
expression.
"I've not been impressed with you today, Trudy. You were lackadaisical in
our figure training session and full of contempt for any attempt at
inspiration. I'm quite in a mood to send you off to a prefect for a
strapping."

"Oh!" the boy murmured guardedly. He'd not been aware of doing anything
other than he'd been told, and his enthusiasm had been equal to that of
everyone else.

Surreptitiously the man took every opportunity to steal a glance at the
tantalising shape in the front of Trudie's skimpy pants. Perhaps the lad was
too innocent to know his penis could attract such attention, but knowing
Trudy as well as he did, he doubted it. "Do you want to be punished?"

"No sir."

"Well, it would be wrong to let you off scot-free. What other solution is
there?"

Trudy then understood. Despite his tender age he was no stranger to the wily
antics of the gym-teacher. He knew that Hardwick was playing out a charade,
and a lack of approbation was one of the ploys he used when he felt in the
mood to amuse himself and incite a boy into a commitment. He wondered why
the cranky old twit couldn't just say he was feeling horny. After all, a boy
such as himself may look angelic, but it wasn't as if he was virginal and
unused to being stuffed with randy cock. Aware that he had been chosen as
Hardwick's 'sissy of the day' and knowing his body mesmerised the man, he
put on an act of his own, one of thoughtfulness, and his small hands turned
out as if in supplication. "Kisses, sir."

Mr Hardwick smiled at once. "Ah, yes. Well, if you're in a mind to oblige we
can make do with that."

He slipped an arm about the sissy-boys waist and allowed his hand to drop
onto the rounds of his small bottom to savour the warmth that permeated the
flannel knickers, then in a casual fashion stood up and guided him into the
gym-store, then through an adjoining door into his room in the gatehouse.

Hardwick's accommodation was Spartan, consisting of just a small table a
couple of chairs and a bed, but unlike most bachelor pads it was
conspicuously tidy. Without waiting to be told, Trudy dropped down onto the
bed and picked up a magazine that lay there. It was entitled 'Hung'n'Hard',
and the front cover depicted a naked young man in an obvious state of sexual
arousal,  an item of stimulation Hardwick had conveniently 'forgotten' to
tidy away.

The man settled behind him and viewed the magazine over his shoulder. "I see
you've found my catalogue of male art poses. Some of the young fellows in it
are really good looking, aren't they?" He beamed as he assisted Trudy
turning the pages. "Most of them seem to be excited about something, don't
they? Look at that one! A battering-ram - he could knock down a door with
what he's got, couldn't he?"

Under no elusion as to why he'd been brought to the store, the boy giggled
as the gym-teacher's arms encircled his chest, his little utterances of
modesty serving to heighten the excitement being stirred. "They're probably
thinking about having sex with a nice looking boy, Mr Hardwick. I expect
they're thinking about pussyboys."

The young pantywaist eased back against Hardwick's chest and glanced up,
then immediately dipped his eyes, which created an illusion of him being
slightly shy. An illusion he knew intoxicated men. Hardwick brought his chin
up with the tip of a finger and observed that while the eyes remained
languid the boys mouth was poised half-open and ready. The magazine was
unnecessary now. No more titillation was required with Trudy. The seduced
had become a seducer.

How nice, he thought as the boys slender arms looped around his neck. His
eyes were beautiful, the lashes so long, his face so girly. There were no
pretensions with Trudy, he was a saucy little pillow-biter ready for sex at
the drop of a hat. He'd had him in his bed several times in the past and
knew him to be a first-class shag - a sissy conversant with all the delights
of fucking. What joy to have him alone and fondle him until he opened his
mouth and clung on with that delirious urgency that meant surrender. Soon he
would make himself available, shaking with desire and yearning for the
fucking to begin. There were so many boys just like him at Fairyfield
Grange. They all needed cock, and so few of them got as much as they needed.
No doubt they practised various things with each other and that was better
than nothing of course, but to find real release for their urges they needed
to be fucked by a man, and he was the only one available. And right at that
moment he was just in the mood to pork the pooper of the effeminate little
doll in his arm.

People were so worried about perverts abusing their sons they missed what
was under their noses. In his experience most young lads were gay-curious
anyway and wanted to experience being dicked as much as the men who admired
them wanted to make the provision.

Trudy didn't think quite along those lines, but he didn't mind giving the
man some lurid thrills. Hardwick may have been a tired old geezer and his
prick less than the Lavanthian snout his conceit thought it to be, but
spending a couple of hours with him was better that doing the two hours of
'shine' before supper that everyone else would have to do.

Hardwick's hands stroked up and down the boys lean body a few times before
lifting the singlet off over his head. He didn't know too much about women,
but he knew that just like women sissy-boys enjoyed a bit of foreplay. They
needed to be warmed up, excited and aroused. He liked them to be impatient
and hot for cock when the time came. He liked them to want it. His face
descended and man and boy mouths rolled together squeezing and sucking. When
the gym-teacher thrust out his tongue he found Trudy's own pink, wet tongue
already flicking forth to slide juicily around it and make him quiver.

Kissing boys was always a pleasure for Hardwick, especially when like Trudy,
they were completely without inhibitions and experienced enough not to hold
back and kiss with an open mouth and wriggling tongue. Gently he lay the
sissy down and pushed his arms above his head before spreading his tongue
into the concavity of his armpits to get the flavour of him. When young lads
were physically fit they rarely perspired much, instead when they became hot
their skin exuded a subtle aromatic scent that was a joy to his senses,
sweet and pleasant, like blossom after rain. While his mouth sampled the
young body his fingers scurried over it like creatures of the night,
stroking the naked torso, exploring the tummy and chest, causing Trudy to
arch his body and making the teats of his tiny nipples rise up.

The hot young body felt so fragile in his embrace. What would those
sanctimonious doyennes of respectably at the School of Ballet think if they
could see him at that moment, laying on a bed, kissing a boy and lapping his
bare flesh with far more abandon than they were ever likely to show with
their own spouses?

Pressing down he nuzzled the boys chest with his mouth, marvelling at the
satin-like sheen of the youthful breasts with their prominent, sensitive
nipples. Relishing everything, he anointed the bare flesh with adoration,
kissing neck and chest and then slithering his tongue over the nipples
before sucking on each of the delicate morsels. Trudy started and twitched
and quaked with pleasure. In the midst of his debauchery the man stroked the
length of the boys body, running his hands over the soft, flat tummy and
reaching for his groin - feeling for the shape of his cock.

"Oh sir, ooh!"

A fleeting strum of fingers found the lads pants to be at full stretch. He
was fully aroused, and Hardwick smiled as he peeled the garment down, noting
with delight how Trudy raised his bottom to let it pass under him.

He felt excited by Trudy's hairless body. There was something so sweet and
innocent about it, something that made him fall in love with its soft skin,
skinny legs and abdomen, and the swollen rubbery penis that poked up atop
smooth hairless testicles. The boy was beautiful, Hardwick couldn't help but
feel that way. The cock that stuck up like a flagstaff betrayed that the boy
was excited too, as did other aspects of him. The parted lips, the slightly
flaring nostrils, the glassy gaze in half closed eyes, and the quickness of
breath. They all proclaimed heightened sexual tension.

He took a good grip on the newly exposed rearing prick and slid his fingers
up and down the shaft to pump the sheath of skin that shrouded the plump
pink jewel at its tip. It always surprised him how some boys not yet old
enough to show any hair below their ears could so often produce an erection
that was so amazingly substantial in proportions, and they always looked so
beguiling when their sturdy members became juicily slick with excitement and
stood up proud.

Slowly he made each movement more urgent, tugging the membrane of silky soft
foreskin back as far as it would go to reveal the emergence of pre-cum from
the flaring exocrine gland at the cocks swollen pinnacle, before sliding it
back over the sensitive tip. There was no doubt that Trudie could muster the
juice that made babies, but at that moment he was far from combining with
anything a woman could offer.

"Oh, oh - Sssugar!" Trudy gasped.

"Am I distressing you? Should I stop playing with you?"

"No!" The boy was certain about that. "It's okay, I like what you're doing.
Go on sir, toss me off. I feel bonky now and I want to jerk."

Hardwick had his own ideas for bringing Trudy to a conclusion. Trailing his
kisses down over the lads stomach, he pushed the boys legs open and dipped
his face down until he was able to lick under his testicles, taking his time
and relishing the texture of the soft, warm flesh of his scrotum on his
tongue and jousting with his balls in their delicate sack. His tongue was
wet and flexible and he knew how to pleasure a sissy-ballbag.
Eventually he cuddled that item of anatomy in the cup of his hand while his
tongue slithered around the succulent tip of the cock, a preliminary to
sheathing the entire straining stem of stiff, smooth boy-flesh with his
mouth. It was luscious! Hot, wet and alive.

"Ooh sir, oooh!"

Yes, thought Hardwick, he'd not yet met a boy who didn't enjoy a lusty
gobble, and Trudy owned a fine mouthful.

He made a meal of it, briskly moving his lips up and down the tense shaft
and paused only to spit on his hand so that he could triple the little
creampuffs pleasure by inserting two fingers into his tight bottomhole. Then
he was free to roll his tongue around the cute mushroom of the immature
cockhead and savour the engorged meat.

The sweet pantyboy gurgled with the thrill of being assaulted from two
directions and his hand clasped the man's head. To control him? To urge him
on? There was no way of knowing, but Hardwick shoved down the front of his
own pants anyway and the expression of his virility leapt forth, huge,
aroused and aching for satiation, tempting the sissies hand to ring its
girth and pump it.

The gym-teacher's lips moved up and down the lad's firm prong with ever more
intense strokes until he heard Trudy moan, then he blinked as the penis
twitched in his mouth and a blast of hot syrupy semen heaved onto his
tongue.

"Mumff, gluck!" Quite a respectable discharge for a boy so young, thought
Hardwick as he savoured the texture and flavour. He was sure Trudy's volume
increased each time they shared such intimacy.

Without showing any sense of urgency he then held the throbbing anatomy in
his mouth until it began to wane, suckling the pretty knob to prolong the
pansies pleasure as long as possible. He then eased up and smacked his lips.

"There! You enjoyed that, didn't you? And  it wouldn't be fair to complain
now if I pleased myself with your pretty bum."

Trudy's face contorted at once. "Oh, but Mr Hardwick, your cock's so big.
It's a monster."
That was pure flattery and not particularly true, but the boy knew from
experience such comments always put the old duffer in  a good humour, which
didn't do anyone any harm.

Smiling with delight Hardwick immediately rolled him over. All was ready for
the best session of the day, he thought, and dear young Trudy would soon
know the pleasure of his formidable length. He was going to get every inch
of it.

Over at the house the women would notice an absence from Domestic Practise
and would enquire, "Where's Trudy?" On being told, "He's with Mr Hardwick."
They would scowl a little, but nothing more would be said.

***

An extract from Fairyfield Grange