Date: Sun, 10 Apr 2005 16:55:53 -0400
From: Richard <rwestgate@rogers.com>
Subject: Naked School Teacher Chapter 14

This is an original work of fiction, though based upon some true locations
and general circumstances. All of the characters exist only in my own
fevered imagination and none of the sexual incidents actually happened. I'm
happy to hear your thoughts about the story.

My sincere thanks to those who have written me. Your encouragement is
helpful in motivating me to write.

Love you all.


Naked School Teacher

Chapter 14

5:45 a.m. Sunday morning. David emerged naked and freshly fucked from
Minot's dormitory. Since Minot had not ordered him into Dalrymple's bed,
David had not gone there and so he was out early. It was a cold rainy day,
typical of September. Typical actually of almost any time of year in the
south of England! David had jogged, naked as ordered, from home and arrived
wet and chilled. Surely this could not go on through the winter? He had
stopped in the boy's showers to towel off before hopping gratefully into
the warmth of Minot's bed.

Minot had been fast asleep and was even more perfunctory than usual. He had
lasted just a few minutes and almost instantly was snoring without a word
to David.

If David had ever thought of this as the greatest sex of his life, that
thought was dissipating rapidly. The feeling that he was just a `fuck toy'
to be used, abused and then ignored, was beginning to demoralize him.

David stopped again at the boy's washroom to clean up as best he could
without turning the showers on and attracting attention.

He slipped into the turret stairwell and began padding quietly down in his
sodden running shoes. They felt cold ,clammy and disgusting on his feet.

He heard the door at the base of the turret slam shut. He stopped and
listened to the footsteps trudging up. In alarm David ran back up the
stairs as fast as he could without making a noise. He considered getting
out to a corridor, but had no idea where the person would choose to go, so
he continued up until he was at the very top of the stairs beside the exit
to the turret roof. He waited.

It had to be Johnson! The footsteps ceased only a single turn of the
circular turret stairs away from where David crouched naked on the cold
stone. David heard the secret stone doorway slide back and a bright light
from within Johnson's secret hideaway gleamed out into the stairs. Johnson
did not bother to close the doorway.

Very quietly, David crept down to the doorway to see what Johnson was
doing. The doorway was a large section of the stone that blended seamlessly
into the turret wall. It did not hinge aside, but slid somehow bodily back
into the room on some sort of overhead track. As a result entry could be
made on either side of the stone, but you could not see directly into the
room.

David held his breath and moved into the room slightly so he could try to
peer around the stone. He almost gasped aloud. On his previous visit, the
place had been a fully equipped film studio. Now it was totally empty! Even
the benches that lined the sides had gone. The walls were painted a crisp
clean white, and it looked as if it had never been occupied for anything.

Johnson was at the far end of the attic space facing a totally blank
wall. The roof sloped up to a peak high above him. As David watched Johnson
reached to the corner and pushed on something. Another secret door opened
up! While the door was open, Johnson stepped inside and switched on a
light. The light was low compared to the brilliant white of the now empty
studio. Inside David could see a desk and chair. Then Johnson was inside
and the door closed behind him.

David peered around the stone to confirm that indeed the room was
completely empty and there were no hiding places. He had thought that maybe
he could hide until Johnson left. Seeing that this would be impossible,
David contented himself with creeping silently up to the secret wall door
to see the trigger that Johnson had used to enter. There in the open
rafters was round button flush with the wood, that had been disguised to
look like a knot in the wood. David memorized its height and position, then
backtracked to the top of the stairs to wait until Johnson left.

It didn't take very long. David heard the stone door slide shut and he
prepared to descend. However, he was sure that Johnson was coming UP the
stairs instead. In great haste and panic, David rushed up the stairs and
opened the outside roof door, not sure how quiet he could be. The wind and
rain were making quite a noise; surely Johnson would hear that?

The turret roof was like a little castle, with a crenellated top and a tiny
portal that sheltered the doorway and the stairs. David flattened himself
against the brick wall beside the door, hoping that Johnson would simply
look out and then go back in, without looking around the side.

Glancing around, David decided it might be better to actually climb on top
of the sloping roof of the stairwell. It was covered in tarmac, and not
slippery, giving his running shoes a good grip. He lay flat against the
roof.

The door opened, and he could see Johnson's head peering around either side
of the structure below him. Miraculously, Johnson did not look up to the
roof. He went over to the edge of the turret and peered down, but was
getting so wet he did not look all around, before dashing back to the
shelter of the door. The door closed.

After a few minutes, David decided he could risk returning to the
turret. He cautiously turned the door hand and pulled. Nothing! The door
had been bolted from the inside!

David was now stuck on top of the highest turret, naked and in a rapidly
rising storm. He was cold, wet and miserable! There would be no way to
attract anyone's attention from here. It was Sunday and so the whole school
would sleep late, and then find activities to do inside. No one would be
out doors, and with the noise of the wind howling around the ancient towers
and roof tops, he would be unable to yell loud enough to be heard even by
someone hurrying through the parking lot!

It began to dawn on David that he was in a fairly serious predicament. It
would not get cold enough to kill him ^Ö at least so long as he didn't have
to stay here all day and all night! He had no doubt at all that Johnson had
guessed that he was up here and had deliberately locked him out.

David did a serious examination of the tower and how far down it was onto
one of the rooftops. The nearest one was only about six or eight feet down,
but it was very steeply pitched and on the north facing side, the pitch
dropped way down to overlook the parking lot. If he were to lose his
footing, he would slide down and fall fifty feet to the ground! There was
another roof on the south side that was maybe twelve feet down from the
tower, but although just as steeply pitched it was surrounded by other
roofs so the worst that could happen if he slipped was that he'd land in a
valley formed by two pitches.

David looked over the parapet to see the condition of the brickwork of the
tower. It was red brick with some fairly deep finger holds where the mortar
was pushed well in. In addition there were some relief patterns in the
brick that provided additional toe and finger holds. David decided he could
make it. He was getting colder by the minute, so he decided to just go.

Hanging outside the parapet, still clinging to the ledge, and searching
with his toes for the first foot hold he had identified, with the wind
seemingly trying to pluck his naked body and fling it into space, David
wondered how the hell he had gotten himself into this mess. He shook his
head in exasperation, no time to be distracted now!

David found a firm foothold and began to lower himself down. He got down a
couple of feet and was holding on with frozen fingers pressed into the
mortar ledges above him, with his toes just perched on the relief pattern
bricks. He looked up, the parapet was now out of reach, and he didn't think
he could get back. He looked down, and realized that the ridge of the roof
was not all that far away. He took the next step down and then the next. He
was standing on top of the roof ridge. Carefully he squatted down and sat
on the tiled ridge with a leg down each side as if he were riding a horse,
the rough tiles pressing painfully on his stretched anus.

From here David could slide down the roof about fifteen feet or so the
valley on either the east side or the west side. He chose the east, since
to travel along the roof in that direction would take him away from the
parking lot and over to where the swimming pool was. Also he knew that
there was ivy climbing up that end of the school, and if it came up high
enough, it might be possible to climb down it.

Decision made, David brought his leg around so he was ready to slide down
the east side. He sat on his heels with his bare ass on the roof
tiles. Slowly he edged down, his running shoes gripped the slate and
wouldn't slide. He had to do a ridiculous kind of duck-walk to get down the
roof. He thought if anyone could see him squatting in the pouring rain and
howling wind, waddling naked down the roof they would never stop
laughing. Finally it was over and he found some shelter from the wind in
the roof valley. From here he could not see where he was aiming, so he just
set off in the direction he had mapped out from the tower.

David got about halfway towards the far end of the school before he was
faced with having to climb up another roof pitch in order to get over to
the next section. The rain was now lashing down and the wind was getting
very high. It had become a very violent storm, and here he was running
around naked on the roof! What kind of imbecile had he become?

Taking a deep breath, David did a running leap up the steeply sloped
roof. Unfortunately, on this sheltered side of the roof, some moss had
grown ^Ö just a very thin layer of green. He got about five feet up the
slope before his feet flew out from under him. David fell flat on his face,
with his arms and legs splayed out in four directions as he slid
ignominiously down the wet slippery slate tiles. He landed in a heap of
naked arms and legs, bum in the accumulated dirt in the gutter. He sat for
a moment until the pain in his hands, elbows and knees kicked in. Then he
curled up in a fetal ball and yelled. Loudly!

When David calmed down a bit, he looked at his scraped elbows and knees to
see how much blood there was. Not too much.

David stood, feeling too miserable to make another attempt and took stock
of his surroundings. There was another of the silly Victorian turrets at
one end of the roof he'd tried to climb. He walked over to it and realized
that it had a small window around the side. He crawled on hands and knees
up the valley of the two pitches to reach the window. David was unable to
open the window. He looked around for something to break the glass with,
and found a small tree branch deposited nearby by the storm. He smashed the
window in and used the branch to scrape away all the small bits that could
cut him as he squeezed his body through. It was a tight fit, and David
scraped his skin in all kinds of places, finally falling inside onto the
turret stairs in a naked bloody tangled heap.

Out of the wind and the rain, he immediately felt warmer, though in reality
it was cold inside the turret. The stairs had not been used in years and
were coated in thick dust. David was instantly filthy as he rolled around
in the dust and broken glass raising a thick cloud of it that settled onto
his wet skin and stuck there.

As soon as he recovered a little of his breath and his composure, David
staggered down the stairs. It seemed a long way down, but eventually he
came to a door. He tried it. Locked. He continued down the stairs, but
walked into a dead end ^Ö the stairwell was blocked by rubble!

David returned to the doorway and checked it out more carefully. There were
several heavy bolts holding the door shut. They hadn't been moved for years
and required an enormous effort from his numbed fingers, but he did bit by
bit manage to move them all. He pushed on the door. It didn't budge!

In despair David began to throw his body at the door, trying to move it
with his shoulder. It took several exhausting and noisy charges, but the
door did begin to move.



The dormitory where four students of David's class were sleepily dragging
themselves out of bed on this stormy Sunday morning, was in fact the same
dormitory that Mac, Delroy and Tom had occupied last term.

Pierre Martineaux was sitting on the side his bed having just wrapped his
towel around his waist prior to getting a shower. Three other boys were in
varying stages of waking up or finding their towels or underwear.

This dormitory had a peculiarity in that there was a mysterious door at one
end that never opened. It had been painted shut and no one at the school
could ever remember it having been open nor where it led. It was one of
those features that gave rise to a reputation. It had been called the
`doorway to Hell,' the `ghost closet,' and other names designed to prey on
the minds of the more nervous boys who had slept there over the
years. Brian Malloy was one of those boys. Very skinny, almost
underdeveloped, Brian had dark hair, brilliant blue eyes, and a pasty
almost anemic complexion. He was fourteen, the same as the other boys in
the room, but he appeared to be much younger. The other boys treated him as
though he was about nine ^Ö as if he were the baby of the group and they
all felt the responsibility to take care of him.

He'd been horrified when he learned which dorm he'd been assigned to upon
his return to school after the summer holiday. He had chosen the bed
furthest from the door, pleading with Pierre to switch with him. Pierre
rather liked Brian, so he gave in.

On this Sunday, with the wind howling outside, the rain battering the
windows, and the heavy overcast reducing the daylight to a kind of dusk,
the sudden crashing noises from the OTHER side of The Door came as a
profound shock to all four boys, but especially to Brian!

He screamed, his eyes going wide as he stared with horrified fear at the
shaking door. SOMETHING VERY BIG was pounding on it! He could see the door
bulging with every thump. Cracks began to appear in the paint surrounding
the door jam and it was perceptibly giving way. Brian had been sitting in
his underwear on the side of his bed. Now, instinctively, he drew his feet
up into the bed and began to crawl under the sheets until just his nose and
petrified eyes could be seen staring fixedly at the door.

Pierre jumped to his feet, towel unraveling and falling to the floor at his
feet. He backed up towards the door to the hallway, poised to run and get
help.

The other two boys, still sitting up in bed just stared appalled at the
rocking doorway, their breathing all but stopped.

With a sudden loud cracking noise, flying chips of paint and a big cloud of
choking dust, the door flew open and slammed back against the wall!

A filthy CREATURE came cart wheeling into the room, flailing ugly misshapen
limbs in all directions and landed in an ungainly heap in the middle of the
dorm!

Time stood still. The four boys stared in shock at the weird creature. The
creature moaned and moved. The boys backed as far away from it as they
could. It moved again and struggled to raise itself onto all fours. As it
did so, it became clear that it was a man!

Brian was trembling under his sheets and his chattering teeth could be
heard quite clearly. Pierre was standing by the door to the corridor with
his hand over his mouth, the picture of shock. When he realized it was just
a human being, he took a tentative step forward. As he did the creature
looked up at him.

Pierre moved closer, recognizing something in the blue eyes set in that
filthy grey dust-covered face. "Mr ^Ö Mr. Jones?" he blurted.

"Martineaux?" said David in surprise. He knew this dorm, since his boys had
been in it last year ^Ö and of course he knew of The Door and its
reputation. So that was why it was always shut!

The relief after his adventure and the exposure he'd suffered combined in
his mind and he began to giggle, then as he breathed in the dust, he began
to choke. Suddenly he was writhing on the floor, coughing and
spluttering. Pierre Martineaux couldn't tell if Mr. Jones was laughing or
crying or even dying!

He bent down to David and brushed his face with the towel, seemingly
unconscious of his naked state. He began to realize that under all that
grime, David was also naked.

"Mr. Jones, what are you doing?"

David, his choking spell subsiding, was now shivering violently from his
ordeal, and had difficulty getting any words out. Pierre could see blood
mixed in with all the nameless crap all over his teacher's naked body, and
said, "Can I help you get cleaned up?" and he held out a hand to help David
to his feet. The other two boys leaped out of bed and came to help the two.

Between them they got David into the shower room next door. The corridor
was quiet. Inside they put David into the communal shower area and turned
on the water. David stood under the stream, but was having trouble staying
upright. Since Pierre was also naked, he jumped under the shower with David
to help him stay on his feet.

"Hold onto the rail at the back, Mr. Jones," he suggested.

Pierre took a washcloth, soaped it and began to wash David down. David
flinched as he touched some tender spots, so he dropped the washcloth and
soaped his hand, rubbing them gently all over David's body. Slowly David
came clean, the filth of the stairwell flushing down the drain, and his
golden tanned body reappearing in all its glory. It was a glory somewhat
marred by cuts, scratches and bruises.

David's head was spinning and he held on tight to the support rail. Pierre
finished washing him and allowed the soap to flush off both of them. The
other two boys watched. Brian peered cautiously around the door.

"Where did the monster go?" he asked wide-eyed staring curiously at his
naked teacher and at Pierre's hands touching him in all kinds of personal
places. "What are you doing to Mr. Jones?"

"Mr. Jones was trapped behind the door and we're cleaning him up."

"There's no monster?"

"No monster Brian."

"Why is Mr. Jones naked?" Brian moved further into the room to get a better
look.

"Do you shower with your clothes on?" asked Pierre mildly.

Brian giggled, "'spose not! Why was he behind the door?"

"I don't know yet," Pierre replied seriously, "but Mr. Jones seems to be in
a bad way, and I think we may need to get him to Nurse. Go get my new blue
tracksuit.

Brian ran out and moments later carrying Pierre's new track pants and top
^Ö they were a birthday gift that was way too big for him, but which his
mother had said he would `grow into.'

Pierre decided to wash David again -- just to be sure he was clean, he told
himself. He had been understandably nervous about running his soapy hands
over every square inch of his teacher. He was also incredibly turned on. He
started out with some shampoo on David's head. "Close your eyes,
Mr. Jones," he murmured into David's ear. He rubbed the stuff into David's
hair, tugging his fingers through the long blonde locks to squeeze out the
filth.

He rubbed soap all over David's face and around inside his ears, just like
his mother had done to him when he was small and he'd hated every minute of
it! He didn't hate doing it to David now. David sighed and sagged against
his body.

Pierre held David's head under the water until all traces of the soap had
vanished. He began on his shoulders and arms. He traced his hands along the
muscular biceps, over the shoulders and down David's strong defined
back. Standing behind David, Pierre ran his hands around David's body and
soaped his pectoral muscles and down to his abs. As he did so, his body
clung tightly to David's back and he ground his hips into David's buttocks.

You would hardly know it from watching Pierre Martineaux, but he was quite
shy about his body. His sexual awakening had occurred last term when a
naked Mac Macdonald had jumped naked into his bed to escape a patrolling
house parent on Pierre's dorm floor. Yet here he was quite brazenly washing
down his favourite teacher's naked body under the shower, naked himself,
with no thought to the other boy's open-mouthed stares.

And several people were watching. His fellow dorm mates, one or two from
other dorms and a mysterious watcher via a hidden camera, who was busy
taping the whole scene!

Pierre wondered even as he was soaping David's body, how far he would
go. His hands traveled down David's back and at his buttocks he hesitated.

For his part, David was almost in shock. He had been chilled to the marrow
naked on the roof. The warmth of the water was comforting. He had been cut
and bruised by his adventure, and to some extent terrified of being trapped
and abandoned up there. He had been suffocated and choked by the dust, cut
by the broken glass and finally ^Ö he had almost knocked himself
unconscious by his manic attack on the door, his final desperate attempt to
escape his entrapment by the wicked Johnson.

The soothing caress of Pierre Martineaux was like balm to a man rescued
from the desert. David recognized Martineaux, but did not consciously
acknowledge him. He would later when he recovered. Now, he was slowly
sinking into some dream state that became more surreal as the moments
ticked by.

Pierre overcame his shyness with David's bum only when David reflexively
pushed his ass back into Pierre's hands. Inviting him in, Pierre
thought. So in Pierre's hands went. They caressed the great globular
muscles of David's bum, and sought curiously the cleft between them. David
opened up to him and his fingers played with that tantalizing hole.

Pierre was really too young for all this on an emotional level, and later
he would pay a price, but for now his curiosity took charge and he just
followed his instinct. Besides, it was Mr. Jones! What more encouragement
did he need?

So he played with David's asshole and he allowed his fingers to explore the
perineum, following around and under until he found contact with David's
scrotum and the ponderously hanging testicles contained within.

Again he hesitated. He had never touched the genitals of a grown man
before. He knew this was wrong. On some level he knew that David was sick,
and getting sicker moment by moment. He knew that he was taking advantage
of David in this situation, yet he also knew that his young cock had never
been so hard! Even now, it was gently touching David's thigh as he leaned
slightly to push his wanton fingers around the delicious ass and bollocks
of his teacher.

Pierre turned the pliant man around and leaned him back onto the tiles of
the shower. David's cock was enormously engorged! It was purple and
throbbing. Pierre stared at it in amazement. He had no idea that a penis
could be that big and that hard! Tentatively, he reached out and touched it
with his fingertips. David gasped and thrust his hips forward, arching his
back and facing up to the shower, his eyes closed.

Emboldened, Pierre wrapped his fingers around the rude shaft. The feeling
of velvet-coated steel was amazing. His entire body began to tremble. He
felt he was going to have an orgasm without doing anything more. His legs
felt weak.

David's legs also felt weak. He was not very clear about what was
happening, but he suddenly felt that he needed to sink to the floor. Pierre
held him up, crushing their bodies together. Pierre pushed David against
the wall, his cock crushing against David's, his hands grasping the base of
David's buttocks to try to keep him on his feet.

David's eyes were closed, and his head drooped. Pierre held David up and
reached over to turn off the shower. "I need some help here," he called to
the breathless group of incredibly horny kids who were watching, everyone
with tented pajamas sporting copious wet patches!

They all eagerly helped to dry both of the naked men, often using their
bare hands instead of towels! It felt strange to them to be taking care of
a teacher this way, rubbing the towels over his bum and even in between his
butt cheeks, cradling his penis and his testicles with their hands, rubbing
the towel under his legs and up to his crotch. It did little to remove the
moisture from either David or Pierre, but sure did a lot to fuel their
erotic fantasies for weeks to come!

In the end David, dressed in Pierre's track suit and wrapped in dry towels,
was half carried to the infirmary to be delivered to Nurse.

They were all a bit in awe of David. Unlike Mac's class, to whom David had
been a `newbie' and therefore fair game, to Pierre's class David was an
established fixture already respected by most boys in the school. He had a
reputation as a `really cool' guy though they were not entirely sure
why. Then there was the famous soccer match. Here they were with their
hands all over the incredibly hot body of their hero teacher!

David meanwhile, far from recovering from his ordeal, was beginning to
collapse. The trembling in his limbs had become uncontrollable, and the
cough had taken on a very nasty croaking sound. He spat out some phlegm
into the shower gutter. It was dark from the dust he'd swallowed.



"Oh my God, Mr. Jones! Whatever is the matter with him, boys?"

"We don't know, Nurse, but he was trapped behind that door in our dorm and
he seems really sick."

Nurse McGowan fussed around and got Pierre to help remove the tracksuit
that he'd only just put on David and then between them they swung him into
the bed. She took his temperature, which was elevated, covered him up, made
some notes and phoned the doctor.

Pierre and the others were shooed out of the room. Nurse McGowan began to
work on the various wounds and scratches that she found all over David's
body.

She stripped the sheets off him and surveyed his bruised and naked body
with professional dispassion. And she raised her eyebrows. "Hmm," she said
to herself.

With some antiseptic and some cotton balls, she went to work on all the
visible cuts and scrapes that seemed to be just about everywhere. She
worked down David's body, dabbing and wiping. She found little drops of
blood oozing from David's chest, his arms and his abdomen. She found cuts
on his penis, picking it up and inspecting it all around, dabbing here and
there. She pulled the foreskin back to reveal the hidden head and noted
some blood even in there.

Then she paid attention to the scrotum. It was tight and wrinkled now from
the chill of having the bed covers removed. With some tweezers she pulled
tiny slivers of glass from the intricate folds of the skin.

As she worked pulling at the penis and rolling the testicles around in her
gloved hands, David's cock began to stir, even though to all appearances he
was asleep or unconscious.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Nurse McGowan as David's rampant and uncontrollable cock
rose to its rigid maximum extension.

With professional control, Nurse pushed David's legs apart with is knees
bent so she could see below his testicles to the sensitive and secret
perineum. She found many tiny slivers of glass here and went to work with a
will removing and dabbing with the antiseptic.

She rolled David over onto his stomach and inspected his back. In
particular she paid attention to his ass, which seemed to be bleeding quite
a bit. She opened up his ass crack as much as she could and probed with
fingers and with tweezers to search out glass shards from there.

Finally, satisfied, Nurse McGowan rolled David onto his back, covered him
over and welcomed the Doctor from the village to her infirmary.

Half an hour later, the doctor left with several samples from David, and
with the tentative diagnosis of pneumonia. David was semi-delirious by this
time, and the doctor had given him a penicillin injection and a several
prescriptions, some of which the Nurse could fill from her own dispensary.

David slept.

The boys didn't.

The house parents had called the Headmaster, and they were all busily
inspecting the mysterious Door ^Ö after ascertaining David's condition of
course.

"I've never seen this door open in all the time I've been at the school,"
said the Head in wonder. "Perhaps I should get some men to clear all that
rubble away and see where the stairs lead."

Eventually they shut the door and that night, at Brian's absolute
insistence, they rammed a chair under the doorknob to prevent any other
filth-covered monsters charging into the dorm.

Even so, Brian could not sleep. He kept talking and asking questions of
Martineaux. So much so that after dire threats from the other boys to
Brian's virginity and general well being, Martineaux said, "Brian come over
here and get in bed with me so we can talk quietly!"

So of course he did. They lay facing each other under the covers in the
light of Brian's tiny flashlight. He didn't want to be in the dark.

He wanted to know about everything. Why was Mr. Jones naked in the first
place? Pierre didn't know. Why was Pierre naked in the shower with
Mr. Jones?

"Well, I was getting him clean and it seemed silly to keep my pajamas on in
the shower."

"What happened to your willies?"

"You mean the erections?"

"They got all big and stiff!"

"Doesn't that happen to you when you get excited?"

"I thought it was dirty."

"Oh. Who told you that?"

"My Mum. She said it was very bad and I had to pray a lot when it happened
so I don't go to hell!"

"Oh. Don't you ever play with it?"

"No! What do you mean?"

"Well, when it gets hard like that it feels really good and you can stroke
it and play with it and --"

"No! You go to hell for sure!"

"You don't go to hell! In fact it's bad for you to ignore it and let all
that spunk get stored up."

"What's spunk?"

`Oh, God,' thought Pierre Molineaux, beginning to realize that he'd get
absolutely no sleep tonight. So began a long educational process for the
repressed and oppressed Brian Malloy. By the time morning rolled around,
neither boy had slept. But they were both naked, wrapped in each other's
arms and glued together with a layer of dried cum.



David was naturally unable to make his required rendezvous with Minot that
morning. To tell the truth, Minot did not notice until after he'd got up
and showered ready for breakfast. Curious, he looked up at the head table
during breakfast to see where Mr. Jones had gotten to. Hearing some
whispered conversation amongst the younger boys, he realized that David was
in fact in the sick bay. After breakfast he paid David a quick visit before
classes began.

"Hallo, Mr. Jones," he offered politely as he peered into the sick
room. David was awake but obviously unwell and in considerable discomfort,
"how are you feeling?"

"Not good," croaked David.

"Hmmm, I'm just wondering," said Minot, walking fully into the room and
airily lifting the bedcovers off David to reveal his nakedness, "how long I
should let you off our arrangement."

David lay under Minot's unsympathetic gaze beyond embarrassment or fear. "I
don't know, Minot, you can decide for yourself. Running around naked in
this weather has almost killed me, so I don't actually give a shit."

"Mr. Jones! I'm surprised at you. Aren't you concerned about your
reputation and your career?"

"I can get another job, Minot. Maybe not in teaching, but I won't
starve. I'd rather do that than die from exposure fulfilling your perverted
desires."

"So you'd rather go to jail than be fucked?"

"You are an adult, my friend, and you are blackmailing me, don't you think
you'd be the one to go to jail?"

"No, no, no, Mr. Jones. I am doing a public service by exposing a
pedophile. Don't you think the parents of these innocent kids would be
thankful that I turned in a teacher who was seducing and corrupting their
innocent boys?"

"Minot! What are you doing here?" shrieked Nurse McGowan as she swept into
the room, "Mr. Jones is allowed NO visitors! Now get out!" and she shooed
the protesting Minot out into the hallway.

"Anything I can get you, Mr. Jones?" she asked sweetly with such an abrupt
change in tone from the ferocity of her words to Minot, that David blinked
and barely restrained a giggle.

"Ah, no ^Ö no thanks."

Nurse ripped the bedcovers off David and began a meticulous inspection of
his many cuts, scratches and bruises. This time she was merely checking for
signs of infection, and cleaning the wounds with alcohol.

"Ouch!" said David several times petulantly.

"Don't be such a baby, they're just scratches."

However, she again worked her way down and missed absolutely nothing as she
went over his captive body with her beady eyes and probing fingers. She
picked away at David's penis, lifting it this way and that, probing into
his velvety sack of testicles, until David, mortified and struggling
manfully against the inevitable erection, cried, "Nurse! Please!
I. Can't. I -- can't," but it was not good ^Ö David could and did start to
grow hard. Right in her hands.

Nurse McGowan watched with detached bemusement as David's considerable
penis became quickly more considerable as she held it.

"Oh, my," she said. "Well, never mind that," she said briskly dropping his
cock ^Ö though instead of dropping it sprang up and slapped against David's
abdomen, "let's see under here," and she pushed his knees up and open so
she could probe into the even more sensitive and embarrassing area.

"Nurse!" said David helplessly, staring down at his enormous erection,
mortified as he noticed the tiny pearl-like drop of liquid appearing at the
tip.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Mr. Jones!" exclaimed Nurse in annoyance, "I have
seen plenty of penises ^Ö er peni ^Ö oh whatever ^Ö in my time. This IS a
boy's school after all!"

"But I'm NOT a boy, Nurse!" said David petulantly, his lips pouting. He
watched as a thread of pre-cum dropped slowly down from his piss slit and
landed on his lower abdomen. Nurse instantly wiped it away with a tissue,
touching David's sensitive cock in the process. His prick jumped. "Ah!"
exclaimed David.

A head poked around from behind Nurse McGowan, it was Mac! "Hi Mr. Jones,
how ya doin?" he asked cheerily.

David closed his eyes. "Spencer, you can't come in here while I'm attending
to Mr. Jones, wait outside!" Nurse bristled.

"Ah, Nurse, the whole school's seen everything Mr. Jones has got!" laughed
the boy, licking his lips unconsciously as he watched the nurse dab the
liquid that was now pouring copiously from David's cock. "Can I help?" he
asked, the picture of innocence.

"Certainly not! Now wait outside. Now!" Mac went.

The nurse finished her clean up of David's multiple wounds and also his
recalcitrant cock. Then she gave him his medication. By the time Mac was
allowed back into the holy of holies, David was drowsy again. Mac sat and
talked to David, but avoided the talk, rumour and innuendo that was
sweeping the school population about what David could possibly have been
doing stark naked in an early autumn storm, trapped on the roof of the
building.

Partly Mac did not want to upset David in his present state of health, but
he also did not want to provide any information to the mysterious Listener
in the walls. Mac knew why David was naked at the school during that early
morning hour, but he did not know why David had taken it in his head to go
up on the roof after his `appointment' with Minot and Dalrymple, rather
than jog home as quick as he could. Also he did not understand how David
could have been locked out on the roof.

David rested and slept on and off for most of the rest of the week. The
rest and the medication slowly assisted his strong, young and healthy body
to recuperate. The doctor felt strongly that although David must have
caught a chill during the storm, it was not enough to have precipitated the
severe illness that had brought him down.

"Are you under any kind of stress at the moment," he enquired of David
after a few days and he could see that David was well on the road to
recovery.

"Not more than usual," David lied, "teaching is a stressful occupation."

"Well if the normal stress of teaching as an occupation does this to you,
perhaps it isn't the career for you!" he smiled down at David from his
perch on the edge of the bed as he held David's wrist while taking his
pulse.

"I've heard a bit about your performance at the staff ^Ö boys soccer
match," the doctor stated casually, "and keeping my ear to the ground, I've
heard a lot of talk about your propensity for getting into all kinds of, ah
^Ö embarrassing ^Ö situations!"

David looked uncomfortably at the ceiling, "Yes, well my clothes do seem to
be constantly, er detaching."

"And is this a cause of concern for you? Are you worried about it?"

"Well, yes I am worried. It generally is not a good thing for a teacher of
children to be constantly turning up naked in front of his charges, is it?"

"One would have thought not ^Ö which leads me to wonder why it keeps
happening. Is it your doing or someone else's?" He looked sympathetically
at David, "Do you need counseling for something within yourself, or do you
need help to remove someone's influence from over you?"

`How perceptive,' David thought. `Is it that obvious?' Aloud, David said,
now extremely conscious of the listening ears in the walls, "oh no, nothing
like that!" and he forced a laugh. The doctor noted the falseness of the
laugh and tucked it away in his mind.

David's inherent strength and vitality enabled him to bound back to health
in a few days. By the following weekend, he was allowed out for a walk and
perhaps a very light jog, since it was broiling, almost midsummer
weather. He went with Mac. They wore nothing but shorts and running
shoes. When they got to a lonely spot on their usual route, they both
stripped everything off and hid their clothes, in case they were bugged ^Ö
one way to be sure that their clothes could not betray them was to wear
none! Then they walked several hundred yards away and sat by the river to
talk.

Mac had a lot to tell David, there was news from Simon the Globe reporter,
who had now had his first interview with the Headmaster. There was also
some news from Max, the private detective friend of Mr. Bennett. They all
sent their regards, by the way, but for obvious reasons could not do so in
person.

But first, Mac started, "What the hell were you doing on that roof?"

So David explained about getting trapped in the stairwell, fleeing to the
roof and how the door got bolted to prevent his return. He also told Mac
about the changes to the turret room and the surprise existence of a second
secret room up there!

"Hmmm," grunted Mac, "but Johnson now knows that you've seen the room, so
he's likely to change it all again before you can investigate."

"That's probably true," said David thoughtfully, "unless I can get in there
real quick while he still thinks I'm sick in the infirmary."

"Now you can forget that idea!" Mac stated flatly and firmly, as if he were
the teacher and David the student. "Just get better before you go traipsing
around on secret spy missions! Leave it to Max to do the detective work!
I'll get word to him about what happened to you, and maybe he'll come up
with a plan that's safer."

"Okay," David agreed meekly. To tell the truth he did still get tired
easily, and the idea of playing cat-and-mouse with Horrible Hairy Johnson,
had lost much of its appeal for now. "So what's the news from the rest of
the gang?"

"Well, Simon interviewed old Anderson and got some interesting stuff for
his article ^Ö he really is writing an article you know!"

"I know."

"Anyway, Anderson wasn't suspicious and he took him around to sit in some
of the classes and talk to teachers and kids. Next time he comes, he will
be able to wander around on his own and chat in confidence with anyone who
agrees to be interviewed. So that's when he hopes to turn some real stuff
up!"

"Sounds good. What about Max?"

"Well now, that's very interesting! Do you know what Johnson's first name
is?"

David thought for a moment, "No, actually I don't."

"It's Bill," he paused and looked at David.

David looked puzzled, "Is that supposed to mean something?"

"Bill Johnson? Mr. William Johnson," said Mac with emphasis. There was
still no reaction from David other than deepening creases on his
forehead. "How about Pat, Gillian and Sam?"

David gasped in amazement. Those were three kids that he'd played with as a
boy around the age of ten or so. Gillian was his age, Pat a year or two
older and Sam a year or two younger. He tried to recall anyone in the
family called Bill. "Their father? No ^Ö their name was Putley," he looked
even more puzzled.

"Not their father," replied Mac smugly, "He's their uncle ^Ö their mother
is his sister!" He beamed at David with a sly expression on his face, "you
WERE a naughty little boy, David!"

David blushed as memories of his exploits with the three kids came flashing
back to him. He remembered the four of them or five sometimes with his own
friend Chris. They would go down to the Putley's small holding down the
wooded lane opposite David's house. They would play all day in the fields,
in the barn or `over the woods' as they called it. Much of their play
included daring one another to take their clothes off or do daring exploits
while naked. The girls were generally more courageous than the boys, but at
one time or another, they'd all been naked in front of the others. There
was one famous occasion when they had all got naked, left their clothes in
the barn and then spent the day miles away in the woods playing games, not
going back for their clothes until it was tea time.

The Putleys emigrated to Australia the same year that David started in
secondary school, and they would have all gone to different schools
anyway. He hadn't thought about them for years.

"I don't remember Bill though," David said, and then a light dawned, "Oh!
Wait a minute! There was a guy one summer who stayed with them for a few
weeks. He was much older than us and was some kind of relation ^Ö I thought
he was a cousin. He tried to hang around us and always wanted to know what
we were doing. We all hated him. I remember we called him `fatty' `cos he
was fairly plump I suppose, though not really fat. He was always trailing
around trying to see what we were up to. I don't remember his name."

"Well, he must have seen enough of what you kids got up to get the idea
about you, don't you think?"

"But we didn't do anything sexual!" said David.

"Just the nudity, and the daring and running around on adventures with no
clothes on, would probably be enough!" laughed Mac. "'Sides, he probably
hated you because you all made fun of him!"

"You mean this is all really my fault? But I was just a little kid ^Ö he
couldn't hold me responsible could he?"

"I dunno. Anyway, there's more. Max has got copies of Johnson's phone bills
and he's trying to trace the numbers that he calls, to find out if he's got
ties to any known pedophile rings."

"He wouldn't be that stupid would he?"

"Guess it's worth a try."

David shivered. The sun was dropping and the temperature was cooling
off. "Time to go," said Mac, and they jumped up to dress and return to
school.



That night as the school was settling down to sleep, Mac was sitting on the
window sill in his dorm, wearing his pajamas and watching for Johnson to go
home. Mac continued watching as Johnson got into his car and drove out the
school gates. When he was surely gone, Mac padded out of the dorm into the
hall and up the turret stairs. It was a matter of moments for him to trip
the stone that opened the hidden door. He entered and switched on the
light.

The switch did two things. It flooded the tiny room in brilliant white
light, made all the more brilliant because of the white painted walls and
sloping ceilings; it also started a hidden camera recording his entrance!

Mac went to the far end of the now empty room and searched for the switch
that David had described. He pushed on the button that looked like a knot
in the wood. It gave slightly with an audible click.

The wall before Mac raised itself up with a whooshing sound, and Mac
stepped into the unknown room. As he crossed the threshold, the door
dropped behind him and the lights went on.

Mac was standing in front of a small desk with a computer installed on
it. Excited, Mac investigated the computer. As he moved the mouse, the
screen came alive revealing a log-on screen. He typed `bill' and then
`johnson' and somewhat to his surprise, it was accepted! "Moron," muttered
Mac to himself.

Mac quickly explored the directories on the hard drive, and he found a
number of jpeg files ^Ö that indicated pictures. He clicked on one and
found he was staring a naked picture of a young child. He clicked through a
number of the files and saw pictures of naked children and even pictures of
children in sexual positions, sometimes with other children.

Satisfied that he'd actually found some incriminating evidence, he wasn't
sure what to do next. He tried to think of a way of tying Johnson to the
data that was stored on his computer. He was sure that Johnson would be
able to erase the incriminating evidence beyond recall in a very short
time. How could he, Mac, preserve this data so that it would remain
incriminating to Johnson?

After thinking for a bit, wishing he was more knowledgeable about this
stuff, all he could think of was to set all of the pictures as `read
only'. He did this then re-set the password for the local system
administrator, so Johnson would be unable to delete the files. Hopefully he
would not notice the tampering unless he tried to remove the files, and
even more hopefully he wouldn't know why he couldn't delete them.

That done Mac browsed around the rest of the machine to see what else he
could learn about Johnson. He checked Johnson's email program, and saw that
he regularly sent pictures to a particular address. On a sudden
inspiration, Mac logged on to David's dot.mac storage drive at Apple, which
he'd played with quite a lot while living with David in the summer. He
saved there a full copy of Johnson's email address book and a full archive
file of all his email correspondence. They could study the information in
detail later.

Another inspiration hit. He looked for the file that stored Johnson's logon
passwords for protected web sites that he used, and copied it to the
dot.mac drive online.

Unable to think of any other measures to take, he searched for the log
entries of his own activity on Johnson's machine and deleted them. They
could easily be un-deleted by someone with even a moderate amount of
knowledge, but it struck Mac from the wide-open obvious password protection
on his machine, Johnson would not know how to do it.

Wait a minute! He was forgetting something! What about the cameras in the
showers and dorms? Surely they were monitored from here? This time he dug
around in the program menus looking for something that might indicate a
video application. Unfortunately there was nothing obvious like, `Shower
Monitoring Program' or `Watch Naked Boys,' Mac giggled to himself at the
thought.

After searching through a number of obscure folders, Mac found something
called `Sentinel.' He tried it. Bingo! A browser-like window opened with a
series of links showing locations by floor, such as `Floor 4 ^Ö shower,
east end,' Mac clicked on a link that looked like his own dormitory. A
small video screen appeared, but all was black. Searching through the menus
he found an option called `low-light.' Suddenly the video was showing
ghostly images of Mac's dormitory. He could see Minot's bed and a humped
form curled up on it. A little control stick below the video picture
allowed Mac to move the camera so he could pan, tilt and zoom.

Mac checked a number of other locations, including the Infirmary to see if
David was still in bed. He was. Then he noticed a location entitled,
`Tower.' When he clicked it, he was shocked to see that it showed the room
right outside where he was presently sitting, and was focused upon the open
door to the turret stairwell!

Mac had another thought. Could all this be monitored from elsewhere? Maybe
this was just a local monitoring station with a feed to somewhere more
secure. Had Johnson been sitting at home watching when Mac had entered this
place? With that thought he began to check out the cables behind the
computer. The only thing he could really see was the cable carrying the
high-speed internet link. No help there.

Looking at his watch Mac was horrified to see that he'd been here for
almost two hours! He shut down the computer and checked that everything was
as he'd left it. He was nervous and jumpy the whole way back to his dorm
expecting Horrible Hairy Johnson to jump out at him from every dark
corner. But he trip was uneventful. Mac slipped gratefully back into bed,
undetected as far as he could tell even by his own dorm-mates. He dropped
instantly into a deep sleep.



It felt like only moments later that Mac awoke to find a heavy weight on
his chest and a large hand over his mouth. He struggled as best he could in
spite of his sleep induced fog, but his assailant was too big and too heavy
and his hands were trapped inside the bed sheets. "Keep quiet!" a hoarse
voice whispered close to his ear. An ugly knife appeared in front of his
eyes waving threateningly. Mac nodded. The hand was removed and immediately
replaced by a piece of tape slapped right across his mouth. He felt
suffocated by the tape and was getting claustrophobic because of the man
sitting on top of him. Mac closed his eyes to try to calm his thoughts so
he could slow his breathing through his nose. He was terrified that his
nose would clog up.

The man put something around his neck and then said, "Get up very quietly,
make your bed and fold your pajamas under your pillow. Mac nodded
again. The immense weight lifted and the rope around his neck gave a sharp
tug. Mac did as he was told. He stood naked beside his be and the man
tugged the leash again pulling him to the door.

Outside in the hallway Mac looked at his captor. Johnson! He might have
guessed. So he had been spotted in the turret room after all. Johnson led
him to the turret stairs and once inside he tied Mac's wrists behind him,
then said, "Okay boy, we're going for a little ride. There's someone who
wants to meet you!"



David was sitting on the windowsill in his Infirmary room, staring at the
darkened car park. In particular he was looking at Johnson's van. It was
the return of Johnson and the slamming of his van door that had awoken
David in the first place. It was very late, why was Johnson back? A sudden
fear gripped David. Had Mac gone to the turret room and Johnson somehow
found out? David was tempted to run down the hall to Mac's dormitory to
make sure he was alright, but just then a light momentarily spilled from an
open door and two figures walked across the parking lot.

One of the figures was clearly the short stocky Johnson, but the other was
taller and slim. He seemed to be dressed all in black ^Ö or was it? Could
it be ^Ö it was! It was Mac and he was stark naked!

Johnson was pushing Mac ahead and they got into the van. David watched
helplessly as it drove away. Conscious of the watching cameras and
listening ears, David tried not to react with obvious concern. He got
dressed and then wrote brief note which he put in his pocket.

Out in the hallway, he stopped at Mr. Bennett's door and knocked gently. A
bleary Reginald Bennett eventually poked his disheveled head out. "David!"
he exclaimed mildly, "whatever are you up at this hour for?"

David said, "Oh, I couldn't sleep and I wondered if I could borrow your car
for a bit, I want to go home and get some things." As he said this David
opened the note he'd written. Reginald read it and his eyes widened.

"But of course my dear chap, just wait and I'll get the keys." He toddled
off back into the room. After considerable rummaging around, Reginald
reappeared, gave David the keys, and held up a note of his own. It read,
"DO NOT confront J to get M! T Wells 2pm."

David nodded, "Thanks a lot Mr. Bennett, I owe you one." Mr. Bennett
gestured for David to give him the two notes. "Sorry to wake you up so
early."

"No problem at all old thing, see you later."

David was immensely relieved at Reginald's idea to call a meeting of the
group that afternoon in town. However, he was not going to heed the first
bit of advice. He drove down into the village to Johnson's house. It was a
tiny 16th century house in a historical enclave and Johnson's van was
usually parked in a little forecourt, but it wasn't there! The house was in
complete darkness.

David drove around but could not see any other place where the van could
be. He went up to Johnson's front door and banged loudly. He tried several
times, rapping with the heavy iron knocker.

An upstairs window next door opened and an irate voice yelled, "Shut Up!
He's not home!"

"Sorry!" David called and got back into Reginald's car. He drove home and
made a pot of tea. While the kettle was heating up he opened his PowerBook
to check email. Nothing of significant interest had come during the week he
was sick up at the school. He poured the water into the teapot and let it
sit. There was one email from Apple. Expecting the usual after-marketing
kind of communication, he was surprised that it was informing him that his
dot.mac drive was full and that he could get more storage for a fee of ^Ö
David blinked. He'd only just subscribed to this service, and there was no
way it could be full already!

David opened up the icon and stared at the hundreds of files and folders
that listed before him. One file caught his eye. It was a text file with
the label, `READ_ME_FIRST_DAVID.'

It was from Mac. `David I found this stuff on Johnson's computer in the
tower room. I copied it here so we'd have time to go through it and find
out what's going on. DO NOT synchronize these files with your laptop.'

David was sweating. Perhaps this was the time to call in the Police?
Johnson had taken the naked boy away from school in his van to some unknown
location. Obviously the fact that Mac had found all this information had
been detected somehow. David felt so constrained by the fact that his house
and even his clothes were bugged to the extent that he could not even talk
to anyone without alerting the mysterious Listeners.

As he pondered, his email tone sounded. Looking at the subject line he saw,
`Warning!'

With a sinking heart he opened it up. `Mr. Jones: do not take any action
for now. You know what is at stake. I will be in touch. A Friend.'

`Shit!' thought David. They wanted him to know that Mac was going to be
hurt if he called in the cops ^Ö yet the message was almost innocuous,
hardly a threatening communication that he could take to the police as
evidence. It could mean anything ^Ö except only he would see its real
meaning.

David had a sudden inspiration. He knew most of his clothes were bugged and
his only option to avoid being monitored was to be naked. But it was now
getting far to cold (and dangerous as he had just discovered) to be running
around in the nude! So perhaps he could find some really old clothes that
he hadn't worn in years? Surely they couldn't have bugged absolutely
everything?

The other thing was his car ^Ö that was probably bugged too. But he still
had Reginald Bennett's car!

So it was that half an hour later, David was parked in a dark spot within
sight of Johnson's house. He was sitting in Reginald's car and he was
dressed in a very old pair of jeans and an equally old jean jacket. He wore
no underwear, no shirt and no socks, just an ancient pair of running
shoes. The jeans were threadbare and full of holes and rips. They were also
slightly too small, so had a tendency to rip when he bent. He had to leave
the top button undone. He didn't wear a belt in case it was also
bugged. The jean jacket was likewise falling apart, and he'd removed the
sleeves when he was a teenager. Since he had not worn any of these things
in several years he was reasonably sure they couldn't be bugged. He
wondered briefly again at the extreme lengths these people had gone to and
the enormous amounts of money they seemed to have available.

It was the early hours of the morning in this tiny Kent village. The few
local pubs were long closed, there were no clubs to go to, and no one was
about. The place was silent, dark and still. David had a hard time to keep
alert, but didn't dare turn on the radio.

With almost surreal suddenness, Johnson's van appeared exiting from a large
ornamental gateway some distance from his house. As David watched, it drove
slowly towards him and then turned into Johnson's parking spot. Johnson
himself got out of the van and disappeared inside the house.

David stared at the motionless van in puzzlement. Johnson had come from the
huge estate that made this tiny village a major tourist attraction. It was
one of the stately homes of a long line of an aristocratic family. One of
the unfortunate wives of Henry the eighth lived here until she literally
lost her head. The movie "Anne of a Thousand Days" had been filmed here
with Richard Burton ^Ö it had turned the whole area upside down! David was
not born then, but the villagers still talked about it. Whatever could
Johnson have been doing in there?

More important, is that where he had left Mac? Clearly Johnson had returned
home alone. David got out of the car and walked cautiously towards the van,
and keeping the van between him and the house just in case Johnson peered
out, he sheltered behind it to peer at Johnson's lighted window. As he
touched the van David was startled to find that the engine was still idling
quietly! Johnson must have returned to get something, perhaps he was going
back to where Mac was held!

On impulse, without giving himself time to think, David opened the rear
door and hopped inside. The van was lined with tool racks and the floor
contained various building articles, a roll of tarmac paper, some bundles
of wiping rags, some boxes of parts. David hunkered down as best he could
behind all the stuff.

Johnson returned and backed the car out, taking off back in the direction
he'd come. David could not see out, but could feel when the van made the
turn into the gateway and onto the gravel track. The estate was huge and
the van drove for quite a long time before stopping and Johnson got out.

Waiting a couple of minutes to be sure the coast was clear, David gently
eased himself out and squatted behind on the wide bumper of the van,
peering round to see where Johnson had gone.

They were parked in the forecourt of a small mews or horse stable, probably
quite some distance from the main house because David could not see it
anywhere around. The door by which Johnson had entered was standing open,
light spilling onto the cobblestones.

Heart in his mouth, David stood up but as he did so, his jeans caught on
something and made a loud ripping noise! "Damn!" muttered David, and looked
down to see a huge piece of denim hanging from the ass of his jeans. He
could feel the cold air on his bum! There was some kind of hook thing on
Johnson's van that had caught in one of the large tears in the decrepit
jeans.

Nothing to do about it. David sighed and crept over to the door and peered
inside. There was a long line of horse stables on both sides, though there
did not appear to be any horses in evidence. Johnson was way down the far
end leaning into the last bay talking to someone. David couldn't hear what
he was saying, but he was gesticulating angrily.

David was wondering how to get inside without Johnson seeing him, when his
prayer was answered. Johnson stepped into the horse stall and out of
sight. David instantly crept inside and into the first horse stall,
crouching down behind the half-door that separated it from the main area.

David could not make out the words, but could now hear that there were two
voices talking angrily. Eventually they stopped and David heard footsteps
along the cobbles. Keeping low David stayed out of sight and could not see
who was with Johnson. The lights went out and the door slammed.

David stood up in pitch darkness and made his way by touch down to the last
horse bay. "Mac!" he whispered hoarsely into the blackness, "Are you
there?"

There was no answer. "Mac!" he called a little louder. There was a grunting
sound from inside the stall. By touch David found the gate latch and began
to explore. He found Mac still naked and spread-eagled on a wide low
bench. His wrists and ankles were fastened with steel hoops that were
firmly padlocked to the bench. His head was encased in a metal mask. He was
unable to speak, and could only grunt desperately as David spoke.

Frantic to release his friend, David said, "It's okay Mac, I'll get you out
of here." How he was to carry out this promise, David had no idea. He did
not dare turn on the lights so he could see what he was doing, so he was
forced to explore by touch, looking for tools of any kind that he could use
to release the captive.

It was futile. David was constantly running into things, tripping over and
catching his clothes on various protruding sharp metal things. His jacket
got ripped, his jeans were hanging in tatters and he had multiple
bruises. He found nothing of use. He gave up the search.

He sat by Mac, stroking his body and trying to soothe him. He talked about
the stuff Mac had found on the computer, about the meeting later that day
called by Reginald. Throughout it all, Mac grunted and tried to articulate,
but David could make no sense of it.

After hours, it began to grow light outside, and David was finally able to
see his surroundings. He could also see Mac. The hideous full headed mask
was like something from the Bastille. It had human features, but absolutely
no holes, not even eyeholes! The mask's eyes stared sightlessly the rather
beautiful nose and mouth allowed no air to pass. It must be absolutely
suffocating in there!

"Oh, Mac!" David cried broken hearted. Mac was looking so brave and strong
lying there helpless. David's heart was melting and he felt so incredibly
powerless. He stroked Mac's chest and said, "I'm going for another look
around. It's getting light now so I can see."

He quickly established that there was nothing in the horse stalls, so he
went out into the courtyard to see if there was a tool shed or anything in
the little complex of buildings. At the far end of the yard, he found some
tools. They were heavy farming tools. A long handled axe and a large heavy
sledgehammer. He'd hoped for a hacksaw, but there were only pitchforks and
spades. David took the sledgehammer. Perhaps he could smash the locks on
Mac's fetters, though he didn't think he'd attempt the mask!

After telling Mac to brace himself, David set himself up to take swing at
the first padlock. He pulled the lock away from Mac's ankle so it was flat
on the bench. Taking a deep breath, David raised the sledgehammer a couple
of feet. He didn't dare to take a big swing in case he missed and crippled
Mac. Visions of the movie Misery flashed before him!

David brought sledge down firmly and squarely on top of the lock. It didn't
appear to be damaged. He tried again and again, hoping that the constant
medium strength pounding would have a cumulative effect. Suddenly the
casing cracked. Encouraged, David continued pounding until the lock
completely disintegrated. He released Mac's foot.

It was slow heavy hard work, pounding away for about fifteen minutes per
lock. It was also incredibly noisy! David hoped it was still too early for
anyone to be around.

Finally David was working on the last lock, the one that fastened Mac's
right wrist. When it shattered, he helped Mac to sit up and they hugged. It
was a strange one-sided conversation, with David babbling about how much he
loved Mac and how glad he was he'd found him. Mac was only able to grunt in
response. Mac shivered, so David put his jean jacket on him.

"What a touching scene!" said a voice.

David whirled around. A distinguished looking man in his mid-fifties was
standing regarding them over the stall gate. "Who the hell are you?" all
David's anger was welling up inside him.

"Well now, young man, I'm the one that belongs here. Seems to me I should
be asking what you are doing here!"

David stood up, balling his fists up and shaking in rage, "I've just freed
my friend from your medieval torture and you want to know what I'm DOING?"
David was beside himself; he took a step toward the man.

The aristocratic man sneered calmly at David and slowly raised his shotgun
from where he had been holding it out of sight below the level of the gate,
"You must be David! he announced dispassionately, "now just relax and it
will all be fine."

David backed up to where Mac was now standing beside the bench. "What on
earth is going on here?"

"Let's just say that you two are valuable assets that are about to exceed
your usefulness. At least in your current role."

"What are you talking about?"

"Before we have our little chat, I want to make you both comfortable,"
smirked the man. "Now David, take your friend over to the wall there and
clip that chain into the hasp of the padlock on his mask." He gestured with
the shotgun.

David found the chain and clipped it to Mac. It could easily be unclipped,
of course, but it would take a few moments which was all their captor was
interested in right now.

"Very good David," I see you are being sensible, "I'd prefer not to have
any marks on you. At least at the beginning."

David looked at him more mystified by the moment. There was something
vaguely familiar about this man. David had the feeling he's seen him
before.

"Okay, David now remove your clothes. They've almost removed themselves,"
he laughed.

David, already naked from the waist, kicked off his shoes and shucked what
was left of his jeans. The man entered the stool, pointing his shotgun at
David's cock. David winced.

"Lay down on the bench for a moment." He reached for another chain hanging
from the ceiling. "Now this will take a moment, but don't move if you don't
want your asshole explosively enlarged!" He pushed his shotgun roughly into
David's arse. David yelled.

"Keep quiet, you won't get hurt if you cooperate." The man grabbed David's
balls and squeezed them, pulling them down. He clipped two halves of a
circular steel restraint around David's scrotum between his cock and his
testicles. The effect was to squeeze David's balls down into two tight
little packages. The inside diameter of the restraint was smaller then
David's balls, so they could not be slipped off without ripping his balls
right off! The man snapped a little padlock to keep the restraint closed
and also attached to the chain.

David was now effectively trapped but able to move all around the
stall. Mac was standing against the far wall, his head chained to the wall.

"Okay," the man placed the shotgun against the wall behind him, "Now if
you're ready, we can begin."

"As I'm sure you know by now, the two of you have become stars of a number
of very lucrative web sites. Did you manage to find yourself on any of
them, by chance?" David shook his head. "Oh, too bad, though not
surprising. You probably couldn't afford the entry fees anyway. They are
VERY exclusive. However, David, you have certainly performed live to some
of our customers!"

David's jaw dropped. "The fetish clubs?"

"But of course, we have a varied customer base with all kinds of, er ^Ö
tastes."

Of course, now David remembered! He had seen this man at the London fetish
performance. Quite possibly David had even been fucked by him! They had all
approached from behind and they'd all been naked, so David couldn't know
for sure. He looked closely at the guy trying to picture him in the formal
dress of the party. "I know who you are! You're James Stewart! You're a
Cabinet Minister! What the hell are you doing mixed up in this?"

"Preparing for retirement, my boy! This place takes quite a bit of upkeep
you know. And my lifestyle is ^Ö well, less than modest, one could say."

"So what are you going to do with us? I've seen you now, haven't I?"

"Yes, my boy, that is a problem. You obviously cannot leave now can you?
However, you are far too valuable to ^Ö dispose of," he paused. David
shivered, the guy was talking so casually about this control over David's
life ^Ö and death if he could be believed.

"Up to now you have been a much appreciated part of some web programs
dealing with schoolchildren ^Ö and your sexual exploits both at the school
and elsewhere have been extremely popular. Some of the tender scenes in
your home with Mac were quite sensational!"

David was appalled. My god, did they have cameras everywhere? He suddenly
felt completely dirty and used. Doing the things he'd done had seemed fine
when he thought he was controlling it ^Ö well, even when he wasn't! But to
have all of those things exploited by this, this smarmy upper class --
shit!

"Just how much money does this business make?" David was still having
trouble believing that this incredibly risky business could possibly be
worth the trouble.

The man smiled indulgently, clearly proud of being able to boast about his
accomplishment, "Oh in total it's in the billons worldwide, but you David,
you, Mac and the boys -- and with your major big-screen fetish productions
^Ö we can attribute one hundred million to you alone, and it's still
climbing!" He beamed in satisfaction.

"Pounds?" said David incredulously.

"Ah, no American dollars, I'm afraid," it's the way of the world he sighed
regretfully.

"Why didn't you just ask me to participate and then pay me?"

"David, David, we did give you some money.

"Peanuts ^Ö compared to a hundred million!"

"Of course. I have enormous expenses, you know. Besides we don't want
actors ^Ö we want reality. That's what people are paying for. And not some
dumb fake reality ^Ö the real thing. Like the Truman Show!" he exclaimed
gleefully, "the whole point is that the stars don't know that they are
stars!"

"When you say world wide ^Ö how big are you?" David was realizing that the
man was really getting into boasting about his enterprise, so he wanted to
keep him talking and learn as much as he could. Of course it also occurred
to him that the more he knew the more of a security risk he'd be and the
less likely it would be that he could go free.

"What are you going to do with me ^Ö us ^Ö now?"

"I told you that we have customers with many tastes?" David nodded, "well
we can't use you in your former role, so we will use you in our hard-core
features. Although you will know that you are on-screen ^Ö it will still be
reality because the adventures you experience will be real."

"Adventures?" croaked David hardly able to speak.

"You will become a thing to be used ^Ö in fact the chains you are in right
now is your first taste of your future, David ^Ö however we will take great
care not to spoil your looks. The Angel in Chains might be a good title,
don't you think," he mused, "but of course as you get older and lose your
huge world-wide following, we can begin to use you in a more ^Ö uh ^Ö
provocative way."

David closed his eyes, his guts turning to water. Surely this could not be
happening to him?

"Well," said the tormentor briskly, "enough chatter, we have to move you to
your location, Johnson will be here shortly. If you have to relieve
yourselves, I suggest you do so here in the straw ^Ö you won't get another
chance for some time.



They were driven in a van ^Ö not Johnson's ^Ö to some other location on the
estate as far as David could tell. A couple of burly men escorted them down
a stairwell to a basement level of a large building. Through a series of
low brick corridors, they eventually emerged into a wide high-ceilinged
brick-lined room. Standing at the top of a short flight of stairs looking
down, David had a good view of the place. It was like something out of
Dante's Inferno. It was a medieval torture chamber!





Reginald Bennett got worried when his car was not returned by noon. With
just a couple of hours before the meeting he walked down to David's
house. He saw David's car in the barn, and carried on to the house. With no
answer to his knock, he tried the door. It was open. He searched the
house. He noticed the clothes that David had been wearing laying in a heap
in the bedroom. He found David's car keys and borrowed them, "Fair
exchange," he murmured.

Leaving the school grounds, Reginald took the long way around to get to
Tunbridge Wells. The route took him past Johnson's house. Johnson's van was
not there, but Reginald was amazed to see his own car sitting a couple
hundred yards up the road. He parked casually a little beyond his car and
walked by it, peering surreptitiously into the windows. Nothing remarkable
^Ö except ^Ö the key was in the ignition!

Reginald Bennett pondered. He didn't want to have his car stolen, but on
the other hand if David needed a quick getaway perhaps it would be wisest
to leave the keys there. He wondered if David was inside Johnson's house?
Still, David knew the time of the meeting, so he would probably be leaving
soon. Then again. Reginald walked back to David's car and put the key into
the ignition, then he closed but did not lock the door. He walked back to
his own car and drove off.

He knew that David's car was probably bugged, so his own car was likely
more secure. If David came back in a hurry, he'd surely notice his own car
and so would naturally take that. Reginald's foot slid on a piece of paper
on the floor. He leaned down and picked it up. He was very meticulous about
keeping his car clean and litter-free. He frowned at the folded old
envelope in his hand. It was something he recognized that he'd tossed into
his glove compartment. He was nearing the hotel, so he just stuffed it into
his pocket.



At the hotel after everyone was appropriately scanned ^Ö no-one was bugged
^Ö Simon, Max, Tom and Delroy looked expectantly at Reginald. He cleared
his throat, "Bad news, I'm afraid. Mac has been taken ^Ö perhaps as a
hostage, and I believe that David has gone looking for him. I told him not
to, but it seems clear now that he did ^Ö and he has probably been caught
himself. Otherwise he'd be here."

He told them of the events earlier that morning.

Max spoke, "This is a very serious turn of events. I think we may have no
choice but to inform the police. My investigation of Johnson has turned up
some interesting information ^Ö but I don't think he is the main player in
this thing. He did meet David when he was a boy and he got to know of his
predisposition to being a somewhat precocious exhibitionist."

The two boys stared at him, "Huh?"

"He liked getting naked and running around the woods with other kids,"
explained Reginald.

"Oh."

"Johnson seems to have become progressively more abusive as a teenager and
as he grew up. He has several arrests for child abuse, though there was
never enough evidence to convict. Clearly he knew David would be a good
mark for this organization he's in."

"What is the organization?" asked Reginald.

"That I've been unable to find out, however it is very big and very secret,
but hard information is very difficult to come by. What we could really do
with are some leads from the inside ^Ö email or something like that."

"Hmmm," Reginald began pacing, absently sticking his hands into his
pocket. His fingers began playing with the scrunched up envelope. Annoyed
he took it out and began to look for the waste bin. He looked down at it
just as he dropped it in. What he saw caused him to exclaim in surprise. He
leaned down and retrieved it, smoothing it out to read the scrawled pencil
notes on it.

The others looked at him.

"I think you might have your lead, Max." Reginald handed over the envelope.

Max read it out, "Reg: sorry couldn't leave Mac. Johnson was in the big
estate, left Mac there. Going in to find him. Check my dot.mac password
`starknaked'. David."

"Whatever does that all mean?" Reginald was genuinely puzzled.

"Oh, Mr. Bennett," Tom sighed, "it's on his computer ^Ö it's a storage
drive at Apple. He must have left some information there."

"We can soon check," announced Simon, grandly producing his Powerbook. He
opened it and checked the wireless hotel signal. In no time they had logged
on to David's dot.mac drive.

"Wow," said Delroy when they saw the number and size of the files, "look
there's your email archive, Max!" Max's eyes glowed in anticipation.

They read the READ THIS FIRST, DAVID file and began to realize the enormity
of this thing. Then Max began to explore the email files. Like much email,
many of the messages were very cryptic and it was difficult at first to
capture the gist of the story they were telling. But since this machine
appeared to have been dedicated to one thing ^Ö the porn trade ^Ö by they
were all concerned with the same basic subject, that of passing pictures
and videos of naked children from the school, plus a few of David and a
surprising number of other teachers and even some parents (!!). By reading
them in chronological order, it was possible to gain some idea of this
particular corner of the business.

Max made notes on the email addresses for later investigation. It was odd
that you could follow the stream of a conversation but the email
destination was often different ^Ö there were at least twenty different
ones, yet they all seemed to have been answered by the same person!

Max picked up the phone and had a rapid conversation during which he read
and spelled out the email addresses.

"Who was that?" asked Delroy when Max put the phone down.

"It's a computer hacker friend of mine. If anyone can find out who owns
these email addresses, he can." Max looked around the group, excitement
shining in his eyes. "This might be the breakthrough we need. I want to
hold off bringing in the police until we hear back from Joe ^Ö my hacker
buddy."

Every heart in the room was pounding almost audibly. Events suddenly seemed
to have hopped onto a roller coaster ^Ö a pair of roller coasters, rushing
at breakneck speed towards a crossing. Would they collide or would one get
out in the lead free and clear?

Simon told them about some of the interviews he'd held with teachers and
kids over the last week. Some of them were becoming more relaxed with him
and a few, just a few, had even been willing to talk about sex in the
school. Enough, Simon thought that if it came to that, there would be
enough willing to be witnesses in court.

Several admitted to have been approached by Johnson to take
photographs. They'd started out innocently and then progressed to nude and
eventually to sex. Some had turned him down and had been offered a lot of
money. Some took the money, some didn't. The ones who had got into the sex
willingly without the money offer, got nothing for what they did. Simon
wondered what they'd think when they heard the amounts of money that some
other boys had got for doing the same things.

There had been no evidence that Johnson had actually had sex with any of
them ^Ö so far.

It was much more difficult to get any such information from the
teachers. Simon had interviewed several of them whose pictures appeared in
the emails on David's dot.mac storage.

Simon copied the entire drive onto his own dot.mac drive so he would have a
secure copy even if David's was discovered. There was no connection with
Simon ^Ö they all hoped. Max said that later they would get another copy to
him that he could give to the police.

The phone rang. It rang three times before Max flung himself towards the
phone and snatched up the receiver. "Hello!" he said breathlessly. He
listened for a moment, "Yes, sorry, we were all staring at the phone in a
state of paralysis! No, no, we are all right here, just waiting for you to
call. I can't believe you've got back to me so quick. What have you got?"

He listened and made notes, asking brief enigmatic questions, finally
putting down the receiver and turning to the group.

"Well, we do have a name. And an address." He looked at them, seeming to be
disappointed.

"So what's the problem?" asked Tom, unable to bear the suspense.

"The problem Tom, is that we can't go to the police with this."

"Why ever not?" asked Reginald, puzzled by Max's deflated expression.

"Because, old chap, it is a highly placed member of the government!"

The stared at him appalled as the implications began to sink in.

"You mean this is a government thing?" Delroy was amazed ^Ö could that
happen?

"No, I'm sure it isn't. However, it could be that this cabinet minister,"
they all gaped at him, "is making millions. OR, it could be some very
clever crook who is able to make it LOOK as though this minister is
involved. Either way, the police are not going to go charging into his
estate ^Ö which by the way is down in the village ^Ö without some very,
very good evidence. We are busted."

"You're talking about James Stewart, the Foreign Secretary," said Reginald
Bennett in stunned amazement.

"Yes, but listen, all of you," he regarded them all seriously, "any
accusation we bring against a cabinet minister will involve not only the
police but the secret service. Can you imagine how the security
establishment, the government and everyone would react to what we are all
thinking? Even if we didn't get buried when we first opened our mouths,
there would be so much attention in public before anything was done ^Ö that
David and Mac would be long gone before any means of rescuing them could be
found."

They all nodded, feeling depressed as his words sank in.

"I think," continued Max, "that this is a case where we need to act
immediately, and go public later, when David and Mac are both safe."

"Hmmm," Reginald Bennett mused, "maybe we should do both at the same time?"

"How?"

"Well Max, do you have contacts with the Police, who could come here at a
moments notice and begin to investigate some of what we've found?"

"Yes, I think so, but like I say, once we mention a cabinet minister--"

"No, no! We don't mention Stewart at all. We show them the computer in the
turret room, and we show them the email files and we put them in touch with
your hacker ^Ö and we let THEM find Stewart!"

Simon laughed, "What an evil genius you are Mr. Bennett!"

"But what about David and Mac? This is going to take time and they may not
have it."

"Ah, well I and the boys will lead the police to the tower room, you and
Simon will go down to the village and find out where they are, ready to
lead the posse to them!"

"No, that won't work. I have to be here since it's my police contacts ^Ö
not to mention my computer hacker."

Simon said, "Maybe Delroy and I can go search our local friendly stately
home? You three do the police thing."

"Hey, what about me?" complained Tom, I wanna go with you guys!"

"You boys are the only ones who know how to open the turret door," stated
Mr. Bennett. They all looked at one another in dismay. This was getting
complicated.





About seven miles away from the hotel, Mac was at that moment hanging from
chains attached to his wrists, pulled high overhead. David was in process
of being fitted with his own head-covering mask similar to Mac's. Then he
was also strung up by his wrists over his head.

The hood-mask was foul. It was suffocating and claustrophobic. David could
not imagine how Mac was bearing it after twenty-four hours with no
relief. The inside was padded, so it didn't chafe. But it was pitch black,
with little air circulation and he was soon bathed in sweat.

They both felt the prick of a needle down near their penis. In moments they
both had rock hard almost painful erections. David guessed they would not
go away very quickly. They were in for a long night.

Then the action began. Both men felt hands beginning to explore their
bodies. The touches began sensuously and gradually became rougher and more
painful. Soon both were writing in an agony and ecstasy as they were
sexually aroused and painfully abused.

Mac began a slow boil of anger. It was one thing to play at sex and have
fun. This was neither play nor fun. For him. If -- no, WHEN he got out of
this he was going to MAKE David behave more cautiously. Just how he didn't
know, but he set his mind to devising a plan.

Experiencing the same ravaging of his own body as was Mac and at the same
time, David also began -- at long last! -- to become angry at the
treatment. Mostly on Mac's account, but also on his own. He had not asked
for this, and had certainly not deserved it. He was learning the hard way,
that there is a line to be drawn and his captors had crossed it by a mile!
If -- no, WHEN he got out of this he was going to behave a lot more
circumspectly than he had in recent months.

What was he going to do about Mac? If he gave him up, he thought he would
sink into despair and maybe go seeking sex more and more -- and he was
right now experiencing where that could lead! If he didn't give Mac up,
then surely sooner or later he was going to get into another kind of
trouble, and the two of them would be forcibly separated - Mac possibly
taken into official care at some horrible facility where his life would
return to that of the trouble-maker he had been in the not-too-distant
past.

The thoughts of the two lovers, running in oddly similar tracks, helped to
keep them from thinking too much about their present situation, and to a
certain extent, kept them from dwelling too much on the pain and the
arousal. Arousal is a curious thing - it enables you to endure pain that
would otherwise be unendurable. But only to a certain point.

That point was not clear to the sadistic group surrounding the captives,
since the injections directly into each boy's penis kept them erect long
past the point at which the pain began to overwhelm them. The men were
naked, sweating and crazed with lust. The boys were made anonymous and
dehumanized by the deadpan masks. They were just bodies to use for
pleasure.

The bodies were gorgeous and the Master who was overseeing the session was
most careful to rein in any treatment likely to mar those bodies. At least
for now. Tomorrow was a very big day for The Honourable Viscount Sir James
Stewart. Tomorrow was the launch of their most ambitious web service to
date: Dungeon of Despair. This was expected to be the most profitable
venture yet - billions of dollars from almost every country. The appetite
world wide for sex of every variety seemed to be endless and insatiable.

He licked his lips as he watched this scene. Young, luscious bodies being
mauled by a group - no, a gang - of sex-crazed men was almost the ultimate
turn-on for him. Not the ultimate. The ultimate was yet to come -- and
would come in time with these same two boys, but not until he had milked
every possible dollar from their youth. Yes, he would make billions on
their youth and beauty -- and before they lost that youth and beauty, he
would perform the ultimate -- sacrifice -- himself in person. And then
disappear from public life forever, almost rich enough to own a country!

He shivered watching the scene, and for the first time since this evening's
performance began, he started to get an erection.