Date: Wed, 14 Oct 2015 10:05:12 +0100
From: tom <amias09@fastmail.fm>
Subject: LabTech chap 28

The Lab Technician

Authors note: Usual caveats and warning apply, read this at your own risk,
no representation of any person, animal, vegetable or mineral intended
although if you do find yourself somewhere in this story with any of the
aforementioned just think yourself very, very lucky!

As ever all comments, ideas, suggestions, good bad or indifferent always
welcome.

Tom
email: amias09@fastmail.fm

###############################################################################
Chapter 28 – "He's still alive then!"


"I ain't heard no screams yet, have you?" Alfie stopped polishing the car
and looked back up the road towards his house.

"Yer a bit hopeful, they'd have to be pretty loud for us to hear 'em unless
they was having a right ding-dong in the front garden." said Martin cupping
a hand on his ear.

"I `spose yer right." Alfie returned to polishing for a few
seconds. "Mart... uumm.."

"Wot?" Martin moved behind the front wing where he hoped Alfie couldn't
see, he pulled at his jeans which, with the excess of semen were beginning
to stick to him.

"Mart...well.."

"Wot? Wot you trying to say?" in desperation to free his pubic hairs
Martin, hoping he wouldn't be seen had pushed his hand down the front of
his jeans into the sticky abyss. It was a mess.

"Well, y'know wot we was saying earlier.." started Alfie only to stop
again.

"Not really, no!" replied Martin more concerned with the revolting contents
of his briefs and the adhesive powers of semen in relation to his pubic
hairs.

"Yeah you does... you knows about us looking at, at each others pants and
that!"

"Oh bloody hell! Ssssssshhhhh... bloody keep yer voice down!" Martin looked
frantically around, luckily they were still alone. "I didn't say I would, I
only said I'd think about it."

"Oh! Oh.." Alfie's voice instantly changed, he sounded very flat. "Oh, that
all then?"

With that he stopped polishing and looked across at Martin, the smile gone
from his face. Just as Martin was obsessed with sex, so in his own world
was Alfie. It was something which hadn't really registered with the older
boys, yet fantasy and masturbation were equally important regardless of the
age difference. Having been thinking about the contents of Martin's jeans
all the time he had been indoors, he had finally make his mind up that he
could trust Martin to look at his modest boyhood without too much
embarrassment. So, to say he was now disappointed was something of an
understatement.

"Oh bugger.. uumm.. Alfie, I, I didn't mean.. well uumm.. I uumm... oh
fuck!" Martin immediately realized from his look and tone of his voice that
Alfie was upset at the decision, but that aside he knew it wouldn't be
right to do it.

"It's alright, don't worry. It's just `cause I'd thought of somewhere we
could have done it." muttered Alfie dejectedly, he sniffed. "But, if you
don't wanna do it now..."

"Alfie, it's, it's not that I don't want to.. it's, more that yer younger
than me and," mumbled Martin hoping it might be a kinder way out
extricating himself from the situation, "and, and well.. so it's not quite
right... uumm, d'you see wot I mean?"

"Nah, I don't see." Alfie sniffed again. In his view it wasn't a case of
being right, it was more a case of his new friend Martin not wanting to be
a real friend.

Martin had no desire to upset him, but it seemed there was little he could
do.

"Alfie..."

"If we ain't gonna be proper real friends, I'm going home then." slowing
putting the polishing cloth on the bonnet he sniffed and blinked, plainly
upset. "You can finish this, see I thought we was gonna have secrets and
all that, y'know just like real best friends does."

"Oh shit!" exclaimed Martin in a last ditch attempt to stop him erupting in
tears. "Alfie don't go, wait, just, just give me bloody a minute, let me
think! Hang on!"

"Why? You've said no ain't you?" Alfie was already starting to slowly walk
away.

"Alright, we'll do it then." mumbled Martin, he couldn't bear to see Alfie
start crying on his account.

"We will? Honest?" Alfie swung round and wiped his eyes with the back of
his grubby hand.

"You mustn't dare tell nobody though." Martin looked him in the eye. Had
Alfie looked elsewhere he would have seen Martin's jeans were already
starting to bulge at the thoughts of forbidden fruit. "Alfie, you gotta
remember this is our gert big secret, yeah? So you can't go telling Mark or
anybody and I won't tell Andy. Right?"

"Course, if that's wot you want." the smile had returned along with a hand
which quickly gave up looking for a pocket and pushed itself down the front
of the shorts. "I hoped you was just kidding me!"

"Yeah, that's right." Martin smiled trying not to look him in the face,
knowing he shouldn't have agreed to it at all.

"Can't tell Andy wot?"

"Oh fuck!" Martin turned to see Andy standing by the front gate.

"That.. that.. that we ain't finished polishing it yet!" interrupted Alfie,
instantly dropping into irresistible infectious mode and grinning all over
his face.

"Right. That all?" Andy looked quizzically at his brother, was there
something else?

"See, I even got me helper." said Martin, desperately hoping that no more
of the conversation had been overheard, it appeared not.

"Alfie, is he paying you for helping him?" asked Andy with a grin.

"He ain't said nothing." Alfie looked at Martin. "Why, you getting paid for
this then?"

"I'll get you a gert big packet of crisps." volunteered Martin with a
guilty look.

"Nah, I wants gert big packet of crisps and a gert big bottle of Tizer."

"You bugger you!" said Martin to Andy.

"Probably!" replied Andy and winked.

"That's a deal then?" said Alfie looking at Martin. "Right?"

"Alright." replied Martin wondering just how much of his five shillings
would be left!




Mark had fairly flown into the house and on up the stairs to the bedroom to
see if any embarrassing items had been discovered by his mother during her
search for dirty laundry.

He was by no means unusual in wanting to wear clothes that had suffered by
way of sexual excess, in fact like many other boys he found wearing semen
infused underwear quite turn on. Having gained a reputation for being
distinctly lax when it came to changing his clothes, his mother it had
conversely turned it into a campaign to keep him looking presentable.

Other than the beds having being tidied up the room didn't looked as though
it had been as thoroughly searched as he had feared it might have been,
even the two heavily spunk stained handkerchiefs remained under the
mattress. Leaping up onto his bed he peered across to the top of the
wardrobe, there were missing clothes which had been purposely left to dry
or more accurately allow the penile deposits to crystalise. Throwing them
down on the floor, he jumped off the bed and began searching through the
bottom of the wardrobe in a frantic effort to find his old jeans. Seconds
later he had thrown the wet jeans up onto the wardrobe and was standing
there in the blue briefs, which it has to be said were still totally soaked
with semen and showed no sign of drying despite his body heat.

Even by his minimal standards it was obvious they needed a wash, so in a
flash of brilliance he pulled them off and after rummaging through the
drawers of the chest produced the only clean pair of underpants remaining,
some old Y-fronts. A further flash of brilliance crossed his mind, in the
interests of hygiene it might be an idea to wipe the semen from his
genitals before putting them on. And, what better to use for the sticky
operation than the time tested semen absorbent striped pyjamas? The area
around the fly was already starched, but the legs and end of the pyjama
cord soon showed their superior absorbative properties leaving his pubic
area relatively spunk, if not smell free.

"Mark hurry up!" the voice was impatient. "What are you doing up there?"

"Coming down, now mum." he replied not without some apprehension.

Progress slowed once he started looking at the heaped clothes, the very
grubby white shirt now dotted with strange stains courtesy of Sophie's
excess of orgasmic juices being notable. The rest of the clothes were
equally bad, if not worse and in particular the soiled underpants all of
which boasted large patches of dried semen. Taking a deep breath he
gathered up a full armful and set off down stairs.

"I wish we'd got this washing machine delivered before now, there are at
least two full loads waiting to be done."

Alison was plainly not in a good mood, whilst moving house may have brought
about the purchase of a new washing machine to replace the old twin-tub,
the slow delivery and installation had meant there was a weeks backlog of
washing yet to do.

"There, I'll pop it in the machine for you mum." said Mark. Having no
intention of letting his mother anywhere near the dirty clothes, he rapidly
started stuffing them inside the machine.

"So where were these clothes then?" she looked at him. "I couldn't see
them?"

"Uumm.." he looked at the floor for inspiration. "they were on the floor by
the wardrobe."

"What? Where? I couldn't see them."

"Oh, they were." it was something of an economy with the truth. Technically
they had been, but only after he had retrieved them from the top of the
wardrobe.

"Mark now just slow down, where are those new trousers, they don't need to
go in." she looked at him with the obvious inference she hadn't believed
what he had just said, doubting that the clothes had been on the
floor. "You've only worn them for a week and as they were new if they get
pressed now they'll be fine, so just fish them out and pop them on that
chair for ironing."

"Oh.. oh.. really?"

He sounded very disappointed as having assumed they were going in the wash
it would automatically ensure his pathetic attempt at semen stain removal
would be superseded by a machine wash. Pulling them out from amongst the
armful of crumpled clothes he very nervously hung them over the back of the
chair where they were immediately picked up and the shaken to get rid of
some of the creases.

Alison looked at them. "Mark, I said bring your new trousers, not your old
ones, surely even you can tell the difference they were brand new barely a
week ago!"

"They are the new ones." he muttered weakly. It was almost as if the
temperature in the room had suddenly risen. Very dramatically. He was
starting to sweat.

"No, they're not, just look at them. Now go up and get those new ones." she
waved the stained fly of the trousers in his face. "Look they are not new."

"Mum, there are the new ones, but they had a bit of a gert accident at
school."

"What! What sort of a gert accident at school?" snapped Alison staring at
him and then to the trousers. Unfortunately she began to look at grey
material in minute detail whilst he quaked before her. "And, what the hells
this all this you've managed to smear across the front? They were new!"

"Uumm... mum.. uumm..."

Mark was already skating on thin ice and needed to answer instantly if he
were not to fall though and be subjected to the fires of hell, conveniently
also stoked by Alison and burning so brightly beneath the aforesaid thin
ice.

"It's, it's custard, some silly kid was throwing it around during the
school dinner on Friday!" he managed to blurt out, praying it sounded
convincing. "See.. I, I tried to wash it out."

"Custard! Custard?" she looked at him as though he were mad. It wasn't
convincing, they both knew it, even to Alison the stains did look rather
familiar. "Are you sure? You're quite sure it's not something we've been
seeing a lot of lately?"

"Yeah, went all over me trousers." the second lie was always easier than
the first, even if his face was bright red.

"Mark I'm telling you, if these don't look like new after they've been
washed and ironed I'm sending that school the bill for another pair!" the
words were underlined with a wagging finger. "Throwing food around, what
are you babies?"

"Uumm, ah, yeah that's a good idea." he said keeping his eyes on the floor.

"Well you'd better get on and put the rest of that filthy looking stuff in
the machine then."

"Yeah, of course." he replied, his confidence evaporated it was with
trembling hands that he managed to push everything else inside the machine
in one swift movement

"Oh god! Mark you're useless! Now look what you've done now!" she suddenly
exclaimed pushing him to one side and reaching inside the glass
door. "Don't you know by now that the whites get washed separately! This is
the whites wash."

It was time to run away. Possibly for ever. The further the better. Right
now.

To many teenage boys there was one situation which they absolutely dreaded,
knowing it would turn out to be one of their most embarrassing, humiliating
experiences of growing up. It was, of course their mother finding
uncontroversial evidence that they masturbated, their fate a thousand times
worse should such evidence be discovered whilst they were together or
possibly a million times worse if fresh semen were in evidence and heaven
forbid, a trillion times worse if caught with cock in hand! Mothers in
general, could never appreciate that once a boy had discovered masturbation
it would be constantly on his mind with the act being performed daily,
nightly or even hourly if the flesh was willing! In contrast such a
discovery by the father, who had also been through puberty and knew lure of
the flesh, it generated nowhere near the same level of embarrassment.

Since it was designated a whites wash, one by one Mark's items of coloured
clothing were now pulled out by Alison and thrown on the kitchen floor. He
partially closed his eyes and tried not to look as the magnificent
selection of spunk encrusted coloured underpants and socks were
ceremoniously retrieved and disdainfully dropped onto the floor. With each
soiled item warranting a withering look of disgust from his mother, he
cringed by the kitchen doorway awaiting what he knew would be her, the
ultimate, the finite experience in handling spunky teenage underwear.

The look of revulsion on her face spoke volumes, it confirmed Mark's
nightmare was now reality. It was a sight which would transform any
oversexed boy into a flaccid wreck, he watched her hand emerging from the
washing machine clutching the sticky blue briefs, the excess of spunk being
squeezed out between her fingers.



"Wot was that?" Alfie turned to Andy, who had now rejoined in polishing the
car.

"Dunno, sounds like somebody shouting." Andy looked at Martin. "Wot d'you
think?"

Martin in turn looked at Alfie. "Oh hell, you don't reckon it's yer mum and
Mark?"

"Why, wot's going on then?" Andy grinned mischievously, he liked the
thought of a bit of teenage neighbourly strife, it also helped take his
mind off of Alfie's shorts.

"It's Mark innit." Alfie looked nervously towards the house, unsure if
there were any further shouting. There was.

"Is it? Mark? I dunno wot yer on about." said Andy. "Why, wot's he done?"

"Mum's gotta gert thing about having clean washing and all that." said
Alfie.

"Her as well! You can tell her she ain't the only one!" Martin started to
laugh. "Well maybe she oughta meet up with our mum then!"

"Oh shut up Mart. Why wot's he done to the washing then?" asked Andy, who
from personal experience already had an inkling what the matter could be
about.

"I `spect he's been wanking over his clothes again, he only changes 'em
when she nags him!" replied Alfie with absolutely no regard for Mark's
privacy nor sensitivities. "I reckons he's done it so much now that she can
spot a spunk stain miles away!"

At which point both Martin and Andy doubled up with laughter on realising
that the exact the same problems which so often confronted them were far
from unique.

"Why you laughing?" asked Alfie looking between them. "It ain't funny,
`cause I gotta go in there later and she'll be all hopping mad!"

"We're laughing, `cause our mum does exactly the bloody same thing!"
spluttered Martin. "She's got a big thing keeping white sheets white!"

"It ain't just a thing, it's bloody crusade!" added Andy. "So tell us
Alfie, if yer right wot's gonna happen to Mark then?"

"I dunno. Depends on how much mess he's made," Alfie grinned, "this time!"

"This time?" said Martin looking enquiringly at Alfie.

"He's done it before then?" added Andy more than intrigued that he wasn't
the only one to have a similar history and interest in such sticky
situations.

"Yeah, he made a gert mess! Few months back he was left alone for a
Saturday afternoon, he found dad's bottle of whiskey and got a bit sorta
pissed." Alfie was obviously finding it very funny and started
giggling. "Mum and dad went bloody mental when they came back with me and
Soph, especially when they found he'd thrown up all over the kitchen
floor."

"Oh shit!" said Martin. "So wot happened then?"

"It got worse, `cause he was still pissed they said he had to lie down and
sleep it off." Alfie could barely talk for laughing. "So dad starts
cleaning up the kitchen and mum gets him up to his room and finds all these
dirty girly pictures of tits stuck to the bed that he'd been wanking
over. That's when she really went bloody nuts!"

"Fucking hell, I'm not surprised!" said Andy, thinking for a moment it was
just the sort of thing he might have been tempted to do. Although if were
pictures of naked boys, he still would!

"Well you'd better not say nothing, `cause he's just come out the house."
said Martin taking a second look to make sure he was not mistaken and that
it was Mark who was leaving the front gate and walking slowly towards them.

"Cor, he's still alive then!" exclaimed Alfie immediately starting to go
towards him. "Mark wot happened?"

"She went fucking mad didn't she!" looking rather pale he approached very
slowly. "She ain't fucking happy!"

"Wot have you actually done then?" asked Martin, wondering if whatever
cardinal sin had been committed, it was of the same magnitude as his own
recent seminal escapade on the landing carpet.

"I uumm..." muttered Mark, "oh, I've, I've just fucked it all up again!"

"It'll be alright," chimed in Alfie cheerfully, "she'll have forgotten it
by tomorrow."

"Maybe not." said Andy quietly, speaking from experience.

Martin didn't say anything, instead out of the corner of his eye he was
watching Mark's hand in his jeans pocket which was still freeing the odd
pubic hair from the clutches of the congealed semen. Mark was wearing his
old jeans with the defective zip which gave the initial impression that all
was securely fastened. Eventually though the zip would fail and allow the
fly to gape open, giving a first class view of what Mark's fingers were
doing through the pocket lining as they toyed with the clammy contents of
the old Y-fronts. It didn't take long as Martin was soon aware.

"She bloody won't forget it that quick. I knows she won't." replied Mark
unaware he was making himself the subject of Martin's bedtime fantasy. "Oh
fuck it!"

Andy wasn't sure what to say since he didn't know exactly what had
happened, glancing idly around he saw what Martin was watching.

"Mark."

They all turned.

"Oh fuck! Oh no, it's dad!"  murmured Mark, he looked whiter than
white. "Dad?"

"Ah, there you are." Jim smiled and looked around the surprised
faces. "And, so you must be the boys who I've heard about and are able to
give these two a lift to school now and again?"

"Yes, I'm Andy and this is my brother Martin." said Andy in his best
manner, he indicated to Martin and then took the hand that had been
offered.

"Nice to meet you, Jim Baker," he smiled and looked at Alfie, "and, I also
gather you have been adopted by our resident mechanic!"

"Oh dad!" Alfie flushed, why did parents always have to try to be funny.

"Yeah, he's certainly into taking things apart." Andy smiled at
Alfie. "And, very good he is too."

"He's very good on bikes as well." added Martin. "Punctures in particular!"

"So I gather."

"Oh shut up!" muttered Alfie now totally embarrassed by all the
compliments.

"But now, if you'll excuse us," Jim looked pointedly at Mark, "we were just
going for a little walk around the block weren't we, Mark? I'm sure you'll
see him later."

"Where's mum?" asked Alfie looking up. "Is she alright?"

"She's fine," replied Jim, he glanced at Mark, "no, she really is
fine. Come on Mark, let's go for our little walk before it rains again."

"He don't sound too mad do he?" Alfie watched Mark and his father walk
off. "Wonder wot they're gonna say?"

"Dunno, `cause we don't really know wot it's all about do we?" said
Martin. "You should nip in the house and see wot you can find out from yer
mum?"

"Yeah, go on." said Andy encouragingly. "We'll be out here doing this for a
while, so if you come back out alive you can tell us.

The temptation was too much, Alfie downed his polishing cloth and headed
home.

"Hey, I saw you looking in his fly when he was scratching his cock," Andy
nudged Martin.

"Yeah alright and he wasn't wearing his new pants was he?" he grinned. "Wot
d'you think, looked like old Y-fronts, I saw you looking as well, wot'
d'you think?"

"I wasn't sure, but I've seen enough bloody Y-fronts so I think you were
right. He took the piss out boys that wore 'em when we sorta spoke about
it, now seems he's wearing 'em!"

"Maybe he's wanked over everything else and that's wot the row's about?"

"Dunno, sounds like the sorta thing you'd do!" Andy pointed to Martin's
jeans. "I'd say from the looks of things you've just done it yerself!"

"Balls. Does it show?" Martin blushed, strangely proud of the fact, he
couldn't deny it as the evidence was there for all to see.

"Won't be so bad when it's dried, keep in the sun to dry out a bit and
you'll get away with it!" Andy laughed. "But, don't get too close to nobody
or they'll smell it!"

"Bollocks." replied Martin taking Andy's advice and moving into the
sunshine. "I've been thinking I'm gonna have to get a paper round or
something, I needs the money now dads put a stop on things."

"Well what about that newsagents, off Vale Road that's been there for
years. I went in the other day and think it's got a new owner, he might
want some help."

"Worth a thought innit? I'll pop down there later then."




"Well what are we going to do with you then?"

Jim had concluded there seemed little point in getting angry since there
probably wasn't a fifteen year old boy anywhere who could abstain from
masturbating for very long.

"Dunno." muttered Mark, he looked at his feet as he walked along. "Is mum
really alright?"

"Sort of, she understands you are can't stop doing it regardless, but in
the words of the song, it's not what you do but the way that you do it. The
way you did it was disgusting, so she'll be a lot better if you apologise
straight away when we get back. Understand? There's no argument about that
at all."

"Yeah, alright." he lifted his eyes. "Dad, I'm sorry it just sorta
happened."

"Well don't you dare let it happen like that again. Didn't we have a
conversation about this subject in relation to sharing the room with Alfie
the day we moved in?"

"Yeah, we did."

"Thought so. Now look Mark, I realise you can't resist doing it, but all we
ask is that you try and keep it to yourself. For heavens sake don't do it
over your clothes, that's what really winds your mother up and it's not as
though you are buying them is it?"

"I know." reluctantly admitted Mark. "Dad, I'm sorry.. I can't.. but I
can't stop doing it!"

"That's obvious and I think quite natural at your age. But not over your
clothes."

With Mark avoiding eye contact Jim thought maybe a stronger approach was
needed to get the message across, hopefully without ruining their
relationship. For a subject which generally dare not speak it's name, it
was now getting a very robust airing.

"Now listen Mark however embarrassing this is, I'm going to spell it out. I
don't want know what you had been doing earlier, but for mum it was
absolutely disgusting to find those pants put in the wash all soaked with
semen like that. Can't you use an old handkerchief, buy some tissues or
something?"

To hear it put like that Mark was mortified, he remained silent if bright
red.

"You do realise that some fathers would have knocked the shit out of you
for doing that, don't you?" he paused to help make the point, "Which brings
me to the state of those new trousers, whilst mum might have fallen for the
story about custard, I've no need to guess what happened there, because we
both know what probably happened don't we? I just hope for your sake nobody
saw you doing it or you'll be in big trouble and that they wash up alright
or you'll be buying a new pair from your savings."

Mark had stopped walking and turned to face the tall hedge they had been
walking past, now so acutely humiliated so he couldn't even look at his
father.

"Well, I might as well finish, so look at me." Jim stopped by his side,
wondering if he had overdone it. "I appreciate, even if mum doesn't that
you are at a time when you are highly sexed and you can't leave it
alone. So, just remember that the rest of us we don't want to know what
you're doing, well that is until your eyesight starts to fail!"

"Dad." he slowly turned and sniffed, almost in tears although the final few
words had brought a faint smile to his face.

"Mark, sorry about the bad joke!" they finally made eye contact. "Look, I'm
just being honest. I expect you've guessed we've got Alfie at it as well
now and to be fair mum really accepts that between you there will be
accidents. You understand? And, to add to our worries we've got Sophie, but
I'm letting mum deal with her."

Mark nodded with his eyes closed.

"All I saying is that you are not twelve any more and you must act with a
little more responsibly. Is that too much?"

"No." Mark's voice had all but gone.




Meanwhile, the car had been polished and Martin's jeans had all but dried
in the sun. The two brothers were leaning on the car, waiting to see if
Alfie was going to return.

"You hadn't forgotten you'd said you was gonna take me and Adam to the park
tomorrow?" asked Martin. "I know he's getting some more film today."

"Oh yeah, I `spose, I said I would."

Hoping to give the impression was that he hadn't remembered, in truth his
Andy's heart had fluttered on hearing Adam's name, he certainly hadn't
forgotten about it.

"I wonder wot's gonna happen when we gets there." said Martin expectantly,
knowing something was stirring for the hundredth time in his jeans that
day. "I hope we don't get caught."

"Well it'll be the fucking end of everything if we are caught won't it?!"
Andy looked up the road, "So I dunno about that, but I do know I can see
Alfie's on his way back, so if we're lucky we might find out wot happened
to Mark."

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Chap 29 to follow