Date: Sat, 21 Feb 1998 15:42:51 -0000
From: Ken Claybourne <kencly@globalnet.co.uk>
Subject: Schoolmaster

	This story is a fiction depicting explicit sexual relationships
between a young schoolmaster and several of his charges. The author
deplores such behaviour, which he is sure never happens in these
enlightened days. (If you believe that...!)
	If you are under the legal age for your state or country, why are
you still here? Scram!

			       SCHOOLMASTER
				  PART I
			 An untrue story by Casey

	I had not been a good student at University. Not so much `Wine,
Women and Song` as Wine, Men and...more men! So I went down with a not good
degree, and my father's idea of a career in some boring part of the Civil
Service went out of the window.

	Life had certainly been fun, though. In those days, homosexuality
was still a criminal offence, at any age, however informed the consent of
the parties. We're talking of the late nineteen-fifties, in dear old
England. Of course it went on: it was not called `the English Vice` for
nothing. And it happened very frequently in those bastions of masculinity,
(in those days), the Universities. There was no shortage of attractive
young men; and if ones tastes went to something a little more mature, there
were many Lecturers and even Professors of the same mind. My tastes went
rather in the other direction, and it was sometimes possible to find
willing, if none to clean, lads in the countryside around. But most of my
friends were fellow students.

	In fact, it was one of these fellow students that made the
suggestion.

	"Roger, why not try teaching? There are jobs to be had in schools,
and they'll take you without training if you have a degree - any
degree. Private schools, I mean. And there will be BOYS!"


	I applied, through an Agency, and they sent me a list of names.
They had told me at their office in London that it would be no use applying
to the major schools, such as Eton, or Winchester, or Rugby, but that some
of the smaller establishments might be interested.

	So here I was, after some tedious correspondence, about to be
interviewed by the Headmaster of a smallish Boarding School. I had memories
of previous interviews with my own head, and I recalled leaving his study
with a redder rear than when I entered.

	I needn't have worried. I was asked to sit in the chair, not to
bend over it, and he was very charming, and very direct.

	"Well, dear boy, you seem to have wasted your time at University,
and so now you come to us. What can you do?"

	"Well, I don't really know, sir. What would you want me to do?"

	"A dangerous offer, lad! But I'll be serious. I need someone to
teach English to the lower forms, and I see from your application that
English was your subject." He made a mark on the sheet of paper on his
desk.

	"Sports?"

	"I played Cricket for the school a couple of times. And Field
sports: I could help there."

	"Could you help with the gym, do you think?"

	"I'd be willing to give it a try, sir."

	"Good man, It's really just seeing that they don't break their
silly necks, and don't bugger each other in the showers."

	There were more questions, and then it was over. I waited for his
verdict.

	"Look, Williams, I'll give you a term to see how you fit in. If you
are not suitable, we can part with no hard feelings. If you are what I
want, and something tells me you may be, then I'll give you a permanent
post. How does that sound?"

	"Very fair, sir. Thank you."

	We shook hands, and I thought he intended me to leave, but as I
turned to the door, he stopped me. "Wait a moment, Williams. I'll show you
round the school, and while we do that I'll tell you of my ideas."

	He showed me round. It was like being a boy again. The dusty
classrooms, the bare dining hall, the dormitories smelling of boy
sweat. But his talk was interesting.

	"What do you think of corporal punishment, my boy?"

	"I was never very fond of it, sir."

	"You were at St. Edmunds, weren't you. Old Mountjoy. He caned you,
then?"

	"More than once, sir. It was quite a performance."

	"Tell me about it."

	"You would be told to report to his study. When you went in, you
would be given a lecture about the offence you had committed, and then he
would reach for his cane, and swish it about. Then you were told to drop
your trousers. He always said the same thing: "I don't intend to waste my
time caning the collected works of Shakespeare, boy." Then he would come
across and feel your bottom through your pants. To make sure that there was
nothing there except you, I presume. Then you had to bend over the chair,
and he would lift up your shirt, and another of his witticisms would come:
"We don't want blood on your clean white shirt, do we, boy?"

Then he would cane you. Always six strokes, with a lecture on your
wickedness between each stroke. Some of the boys said he could make a
caning last ten minutes. I never measured the time myself."

"A real old fashioned pederast!" my companion said." I've been told that he
has been known to use a more personal rod on some of his favourites."

"That was the rumour, sir, but I never met anyone who admitted to that."

"Well, they wouldn't, would they? Tell me, as we seem to be on the subject,
Williams, what do you think of boys' sexuality?"

I considered my response. An awkward question: I could hardly say `to be
encouraged by all means possible`.

"I think it's their affair, sir. I wouldn't think it suitable to allow boys
to have over-close relationships openly. On the other hand, I can't see how
one could prevent boys experimenting a little with each other.
Non-interference would be my approach. Unless I felt that coercion was
involved. Then I would intervene."

"Good man: now a more difficult one for you. You are a presentable young
man, as you must know; and you will find that sooner or later some boy will
develop a `crush` on you. How would you deal with that?"

My inner voice said `shag his pretty little arse raw`, but I answered "I
don't know. I would just play it as it came."

"Yes, that's all we can do, Williams; but don't underestimate the charm of
a boy who is seriously fixated on you."

I smiled to myself. `Just what I'm hoping for`, I thought.

"You won't see any canes or straps in this school, Williams. I believe that
if it is ever necessary to punish a boy physically - only if all else it
has failed - it should be done with the bare hand, on the behind, not
across the side of the head! In that way, the boy is protected from
excessive force, because, believe me, Williams, it hurts the chastiser
too!"

"But doesn't that have the danger of becoming, well, sexual, sir?"

"Yes, and one needs to be aware of that. But I feel sure you could cope, if
you had too."

It depends on what you mean by `cope`, I thought.


So, a few weeks later, I presented myself at the school, at the beginning
of the autumn term. Boys were already arriving from their long summer
break, and there was the sound of young voices everywhere. A young lad came
up to me.

"Are you a new teacher, sir?"

"Yes, I am. I'm Roger Williams, and who are you?"

"I'm Jenkinson, sir. I hope you are our new dorm master, sir. We haven't
got one."

"I have no idea what I am, or where I'll be, young Jenkinson. That rather
depends on the Head. No doubt he'll inform me."

Jenkinson got his wish. When I saw the Head, he explained that I would be
responsible for a dozen or so thirteen- and fourteen- year old boys in out
of school hours. "Your room - rooms are at the end of a corridor. The
lavatories and bathroom separate you from the main dorm, so they shouldn't
trouble you too much. Your job is really security, to see that the boys are
safe. For example, if there is a fire, or a fire practice, you get them out
onto the lawn and take a roll call. Do a last check before you go to bed at
night. The little devils have been known to slip off into other
dormitories. I'll take you round to meet them after Dinner."

I was shown to my rooms by an older boy, and got on with my unpacking. A
nice study, and a doorway through to a pleasant bedroom overlooking the
wide green lawn.

After the evening meal, a rather formal affair, where I was introduced to
some of the other masters, the Head took me round to meet my young charges,
and there, grinning like a Cheshire cat, was Jenkinson.

"This is Mr. Williams, who has the misfortune to be your new dorm master. I
hope you'll be rather more kind to him than you were to the previous man."

"Oh, we will, sir," said Jenkinson.

Now I don't know why I did it, but I crouched in front of Jenkinson, so
that I was looking up at him slightly. I took his hand in mine.

"I'll need help, Jenkinson. I'm new to this job. I hope you are going to
show me the ropes, and see that I don't do anything silly. Will you do that
for me?"

The boy's eyes were shining with pride. "Oh, yes, sir, I'll be glad to help
you. We all will."

"I'll see you all later, then, boys. Be good!"

As we left, the head was smiling. "That was well done, Williams. Poor
Jenkinson! A sad story. His mother died quite suddenly a year ago, and his
father went completely to pieces. Took to drink, started beating the
boy. His Uncle persuaded the man to send the boy here, and the man is now
in a special hospital, trying to sort himself out. Jenkinson needs someone
to show him he's worth something, and you've made just the right start. I'm
very pleased! Your predecessor was rather a disaster. Far too strict: a
very rigid man, with no idea about how to approach boys. I want you to be,
well not exactly a father figure - you're too young for that - but you see
what I mean."

"A sort of older brother, sir?"

"Yes, yes, that's it exactly. Be a friend to them, in the dorm. Not in
school, of course!"

He left me then, and I went and finished sorting out my things. Then I had
a bath, and changed into pyjamas and dressing gown. At nine I wandered
along to see my young charges.

They were lounging about in various stages of undress. Boys of their age
group seem to range from hairless semi-infants to well-endowed young
Apollos. Some of them were already in bed, reading, or talking with
friends. One little lad was stark naked, but didn't seem at all embarrassed
at my presence. I went across to Jenkinson, and asked him to tell me
everyone's names.

"I'm sure I won't remember them all, but I ought to make a start."

He started to tell me the names. "Carstairs. Smithson. Black...."

"Haven't any of you got first names? This seems very formal."

He hesitated. "Well, sir, everybody uses surnames. But I'll tell you
mine. It's Michael"

"And I'm Jack" piped another. Soon I had a chorus of names coming at me."

"I'll tell you what, boys. Let's keep to the rules - except in the
dorm. I'd feel much happier that way. First names in here, surnames
outside, in lessons and at mealtimes."

A host of smiling faces told me I had made a good decision. Then I noticed
a lad across the room, sitting in his bed with tears in his eyes. I went
across, and sat on his bed.

"Homesick?"

He nodded. I put my arm round his shoulders. "I know. I used to cry all the
first night. But you'll get over it. What's your name?"

"Billy. Billy Harrison.

"Well, Billy, don't be ashamed to cry. I always found it helped me." I gave
him a hug, and he leant gratefully against me. I gave him a little kiss on
the top of his head.

A bigger boy, who had been introduced as Keith, was sitting on the next
bed, looking at my middle. I looked down, and saw that my dressing gown had
swung open, and worse, the gap in my pyjama trousers was gaping. I looked
at him, and he gave a little smile. I could see that he was he only one who
had noticed, so before I got up to pull myself together I deliberately
spread my legs for a moment to give him a better look. Then I left the
weeping Billy, and went to talk to Michael. He chatted for a bit, telling
me of the daily routine of the school, and then I said I should go. He
asked for a hug (Jealous! I decided), so I gave him a little squeeze. Then
I went to my room.

Things were going well! The boys were friendly, and clearly didn't mind
physical contact. And the big boy next to Billy was giving out strong
signals. This looked good for the term!

I read a bit, and wondered what tomorrow would bring.

I remembered my duties at eleven. I went to the dorm. The lights were out,
and all seemed asleep. I walked up to the end, and saw that the boy Keith,
the one who had got an eyeful, was still awake.

"Can't sleep?"

"No sir. I just can't seem to get off."

I sat on his bed. "There are two good ways to get to sleep, lad. One is a
warm drink, and the other I'm sure you know," I said quietly. "Everyone's
asleep, so you can get on with it. But maybe you just need the lavatory?"

"Yes, sir, maybe I do."

He got out of bed, and padded off down the dorm. I followed him, and went
into my room, leaving my door ajar a little. I heard him flush the toilet,
and a moment later he was coming through my door.

"I'll just say goodnight, sir."

Of course I wanted him to stay! But this was my first night, and I needed
to know more about him, and the school, and the way things ran. I gave him
a hint for the future.

"Goodnight, Keith. Sleep well. I hope that when I get settled in we will
have more chances to get to know each other. "

He smiled, and went to bed.


The next day was sheer Hell! I had two lessons in the morning, and it was
soon obvious that the boys were trying me out. Despite the fact that there
were a couple of my own dorm boys in each group, I was treated to every
kind of humiliation. Ink pellets. Silly questions. Personal questions.
Thinly concealed obscenities. I kept my temper, but only just. I wondered
why they were being so repulsive, and started to think that I had not made
a wise choice in taking this job. I went to lunch feeling shattered.

Yet at lunch these same boys seemed happy to chat amicably with me. I did
my best, but I must have seemed rather surly to them. I was free then until
two o'clock, when I had my first gym lesson to face. Fortunately the Head
had arranged for Mr. Mackintosh, the elderly Sports master, to share my gym
periods for the first week.

He was very easy with the boys, and at first sight they seemed to be doing
just what they wanted. He explained to me that things were not as
structureless as they looked.

"Each lad knows that he must perform on every piece of apparatus during the
lesson. They are at liberty to do them in whatever order they choose, but
they must try everything. Our job is safety, really. See that the rope
climbers have the safety mat in the right place. See that the boys on the
vaulting horse position the landing mat properly. Watch that nobody tries
to vault the horse before the previous lad is clear. They all enjoy gym;
well, most of them, anyway, and I leave them to enjoy themselves. How did
this morning go?"

"Awful, Jock. They tried everything on me. I could have strangled every one
of them, I think. What the hell have I got myself into?"

"A school, that's what. Look, Roger, these lads had a terrible man last
term: cold, strict, and unforgiving. What happened to the Head's sense of
judgement I can't imagine. He seems to have done better with you,
though. This morning they were trying to make you lose your temper. But you
didn't. You'll find they'll settle down once they know you're OK. And I've
heard already that the lads in your dorm think highly of your relaxed
attitude. So stop worrying! But I will give you one tip."

"Yes please, Jock."

"Tomorrow, when they come in, tell them to get a book out and read. Then
spend the whole lessons just going round talking to individual boys. Get to
know their first names, and use them."

"But I thought the rule was surnames only."

"Not a rule, Roger, just a custom. I always use first names, to boys and
fellow masters. Nobody stops me, and nobody will stop you. Boys in these
places are short of affection, and it's part of your job to give it, in the
classroom as well as in the dorm. They may act tough, but they miss the
love of their parents. A few kind words will do wonders."

The lesson was coming to an end. "Right, lads. Put the stuff away, and then
into the showers."

He turned to me. "This is the best part of the lesson."

The boys cleared up very efficiently, and then dashed off to the shower
room. We followed them in. It was a big communal shower, with half a dozen
big sprinklers, and a mass of naked young bodies jostled for the best
places.

"Aren't they beautiful, laddie? Look at the cute little arse on that one"
he said pointing to a little fair-haired lad. "And that's one of yours" he
said, indicating Keith. "He knows I fancy him. He'll turn round in a minute
so that I can see the front view."

Sure enough, as if on cue Keith turned, and I saw a fine cock, more like
that of a sixteen - year old. Jock nudged me. "Look, his friend Billy wants
us to notice him too."

Billy stood there with his little cock sticking out hard, grinning at us
cheekily. I gave him a smile, but I'd noticed a tall dark lad, slim, almost
delicate. I pointed him out to Jock.

"Who is that beauty?"

"That's Jacob. Jewish, as you can see. A real favourite of mine; and he's
in my dorm."

I smiled at the boy. Most of the others were now leaving the shower, but
Jacob stood there, soaping himself slowly. He smiled back, and then, quite
deliberately, began to soap his genitals, as his eyes remained locked with
mine.

Jock had seen this, of course. He hurried the boys out of the shower, and
turned to me.

"You seem to have made a conquest there, Roger. But I warn you; he's sexual
dynamite. I wonder if you are fit enough!" he laughed.

The boys got into their shorts and shirts again, grabbed their towels and
dashed off to their dorms to change into evening casuals. I stayed behind
with Jock and he showed me how to lock up.

"There are three doors you'll need to check: the back door, which is a fire
escape and MUST be open if there are boys in the building; the front door,
where we came in. and my door: come, I'll show you."

He locked the back door, and then took me to his room. "There's a door in
from the outside, and one from the gym. The outside door is usually locked,
and this inside door is locked when I'm away."

There was a desk and chair, and a low examination couch.

"That's for boys who have a sprain, or feel unwell, to rest on. And I
sometimes do massage a lad in here."

"Do you get many injuries, then?"

"Very few. The main trouble seems to be badly swollen dicks! Well, you
can't let the wee laddies suffer!"

Then without any preamble his hand was on my cock, still half- hard from my
encounter with Jacob. I stood there unresisting as he pulled down my loose
sports bottoms, bent down and took me into his mouth. He sucked wetly for a
few seconds, then took his head away, stood up, dropped his own pants and
bent over the couch.

"I don't know what your favourite sport is, Roger, but mine is being well
fucked by a decent prick. The boys do their best, but I do like them full
size! Come on!"

I came on. His rear was muscled and very hairy. Certainly the oldest arse
I'd ever been invited to plunder! But he knew how to use those sphincter
muscles, and I was soon fucking away happily. I did flag a little, and
brought beautiful Jacob into my mind to help. But he wouldn't stay. To my
surprise he was pushed out of the way by a picture of little Billy's
hairless little cock. I felt my urge get stronger, and was able to complete
my task well enough, filling the old man with a decent load.

"Not bad, Roger, not bad at all, and I speak as a connoisseur! A couple of
lessons from young Jacob and you'll be top class. Now there's a laddie who
can please a man! Not fifteen and fucks like a stud of twenty!"

We tidied ourselves up, locked up, and strolled across to the main
building. As we walked I took the opportunity to ask Jock more about the
set up.

"You seem to be able to do what you like with the boys, Jock. How do you
keep it from getting out?"

"Don't need to, lad. Most of us have our little friends."

"You mean if you fancy a boy, you just go for him?"

"Oh, no. The Head wouldn't stand for that!"

"You mean he knows?"

"Of course. His preference is for the older boys in the sixth form - or the
younger teachers!"

He patted my behind. "I bet it won't be long before you get an invitation
to Dinner at his lodge!

 "No, Roger, he lays down a strict rule. He calls it `Boy's choice`. A
master must never approach a boy in that way. He must never use his
authority, or persuasion, or bribery. Only if a boy approaches him may he
respond - if he wants to. And he must never do more than the boy is ready
for.

"Of course there are ways of letting a lad you like the look of knowing
that an overture would be welcome, but you mustn't push it. But you needn't
worry, Roger. After all, you've had two approaches this afternoon. Jacob;
and I noticed little Billy wagging his wee cocktail sausage at you!"


I went up to my room, and did a bit of preparation for the next day, while
the boys were similarly engaged, though more formally; and then the evening
meal. Afterwards I wanted to talk to the boys, and tell them a few
things. So I went into the dorm, and was greeted at once by Billy.

"Did you like it in the shower today, sir?"

"Yes, you all looked good and healthy."

"Sometimes Jock ...er...Mr. Mackintosh has a shower with us. Will you
shower with us when you take gym?"

"Maybe, Billy."

I called the boys together, and told them I wanted to talk for a
minute. They gathered round, and Billy managed to insinuate himself close
to me.

"I had a long chat with Mr. Mackintosh, and he told me a few interesting
things. Now I want you to know my views, and what I expect of you in the
dorm. I'll be quite direct.

"It is not so long since I was a boy like you myself, so I know how boys
behave in the dorm at night. Some of you, I am sure, have special friends
who you like to spend time with. Now I don't intend to interfere with that,
but it must be quiet and discrete, and after lights out. I don't want that
sort of behaviour in front of other boys. Understood?"

There were nods all round.

"My next point is about those boys who choose not to do such things,
whether because they don't feel ready yet, or because they have had bad
experiences, or just because they don't feel like it. Those boys have a
right to your respect. I want to hear of no persuading of boys into acts
they don't want. Every one of you has the right to say No."

I saw a quiet boy called Jack looking at me with that adolescent look that
tells you he is thinking something, but gives you no idea at all of what it
is.

"My last point. If I am in, I will be either here with you, or in my
room. If any boy wants to talk to me privately, be it about school matters,
or personal things, or just for a friendly chat, then he only need knock on
my door. That's all."


There was a silence for a moment, broken by young Michael.

"Sir, will you reads us a story?"

So at least some of them were still little boys! I went across to the old
bookcase in the corner of the dorm. The usual boys stories, and a pile of
comics. Then I noticed the `Just So Stories` of Rudyard Kipling, an old
love of mine, so I took the book across to one of the beds, not Michael's,
as he expected, but to a lad who I had not so far got to know. I was
determined not to play favourites. I noticed a little lad by himself on the
bed next to Jack's, looking wistfully at him. `Two lonely people`, I
thought.

"Mind if I sit here...." "Robert, sir" he supplied. "Mind if I sit here to
read this, Robert?"

"No sir."

Billy and Michael and a couple of others joined us, and I read them one of
my favourites: `How the Elephant got his trunk`. By the time I reached the
end of the first page they were all sitting round me. I read through to the
end, and there were smiles all round.

"Another!" came a young voice.

"Another tomorrow night", I promised. "Now I must have my shower." I left
them, and went into the bathroom with my things. While I was in the shower,
I heard the door open. It was Jack.

"Do you mind me coming in, sir?"

"Not at all, Jack. It's everybody's bathroom, and we're all males. Come for
a shower?"

"No sir. I wanted to talk."

"OK, I'm listening."

"It's about what you were saying, sir. I've wanted to tell somebody about
it for a long time, but..."

"About what, Jack?"

"The others, well, they laugh at me because I won't, you know, do
things. It's because - well, when you said that about bad experiences, I
thought you would understand."


"This sounds important, Jack. I'll just dry off a little, and then we'll
talk in my room."

I dried the loose water off, slipped on my dressing gown, and went with him
into my room. I found my pyjamas, and put them ready while I continued
drying myself.

"Now, Jack, what is it?"

"Well, when I was at my last school, there was a boy, and he made me do
things. Things that I didn't want to do."

"Why didn't you tell a teacher, or the headmaster? Surely you know that
nobody has the right to make you do things like that, whatever they were."

"I tried to, sir, but the teacher I spoke to told me not to be silly."

"And the Headmaster?"

"The boy was the Head's son, sir. Nobody would have believed me."

"Oh, dear, I see. Yes, you had a real problem."

"So I asked my father to take me away, and he got me in here. I like it a
lot here, sir, and I'm not a prude, sir. I don't mind at all what other
boys do. In fact, there are things that I do like, but I'm always afraid
that someone will try to do more."

"Then keep to what you do like, Jack. Let me know if anyone at all tries to
push you further. Just as a matter of interest, so that I don't go barging
in when I shouldn't, what do you think is OK for you?"

He hesitated. I almost could see his brain ticking! Then he came to a
decision.

"I like looking, sir. I like seeing the others naked, and I like it when
people look at me."

"Most of us enjoy that, Jack. I certainly do! Here I am, bare as a baby,
and there you are looking at me. And I can see that you are liking it!"

His pyjamas were betraying his condition quite clearly, and my penis was
beginning to respond in sympathy.

"Would you like to enjoy me seeing you, Jack?  Don't be afraid, I won't try
to touch you"

He paused for a moment, and then unfastened his pyjama trousers and let
them fall. Then he took his jacket off, and was as naked as me.  We stood
there, maybe three feet apart. He was good to look at, and my cock was soon
at full extension.

"There, Jack. I'm sure that you'll find that others will respect your
wishes. Just be as direct with them as you have been with me."

"Will you let me watch you do it to yourself, sir? That's what I like the
best."

I didn't answer with words, but took my cock in my hand and started to work
on it, and almost at once he was doing the same. We stood there tossing
ourselves off. He was jerking away fast, as boys do, and suddenly a jet of
semen shot from his cock and hit my belly.

I laughed. "Two can play at that game, young man! Any second now!"

I let him have it. I managed three strong spurts, and I deliberately aimed
the first one high, so that it landed on his neck. The second landed on his
chest, and I got the third right onto the neat little patch of hair above
his genitals.

"You'll need a shower now, I'm afraid. Do you feel better about things
now?"

"Much better, sir. That felt good. Thank you sir."

"Any time, Jack. But not too often. I'm sure you'll find a friend to join
you. Robert seems a bit lonely, and he's in the bed next to yours.  Make
friends with him. Don't try anything sexual though, until it happens
naturally. And stop worrying! Put the bad things behind you, and enjoy the
present!"

We were both still naked; I led him to the door. I unthinkingly put my arm
round his shoulders, and then remembered that he didn't like being
touched. But far from there being any negative reaction, he drew close for
a moment.

"Thanks again, sir." Then he put his hand on my languid cock, and gave a
little squeeze. "See you again, friend!"

He slipped out of my room, and into the bathroom. I wiped off his spunk,
and dressed for the night. Then I had an inspiration. I walked down the
dorm to where little Robert was getting ready for bed.

"Robert, your friend Jack is in the shower, and he's forgotten his
towel. Would you take it to him for me - indeed, why not have a shower
yourself? I think you would like to be Jack's friend, wouldn't you?"

Robert nodded.

"Then off you go, and Good Luck."  If that didn't get the two of them
together, nothing would!


I took stock. I'd fucked a hairy- arsed old Scot, and tossed off with an
adolescent. I'd had strong `come on's` from Keith, Billy, but no idea of
what they would want from me; and there was Jacob, but no action yet. I
wanted something meatier - a nice big Sixth-former, or some uninhibited
village lad. The trouble was I had no Sixth Form teaching, and I could
hardly go up to one of them and ask `Do you shag`? I decided to investigate
the potential in the village the first chance I got.

At eleven, I did my check. As I walked quietly up the dorm, I could see
that Jack and Robert were deep in conversation, sitting on Jack's bed.

"Come on, you two, Beddy-byes!"

Across the room, I noticed that Bobby's bed was empty. There was a big
bulge halfway down Keith's bed! I walked across.

"Goodnight, Keith. And say Goodnight to Bobby for me when he comes up for
air!" I gave the bulge a prod, and left them to their fun.


The next day was a definite improvement in the schoolroom. I took Jock's
advice, and determined to jettison formal lessons for a couple of days and
concentrate on getting to know my pupils. They were surprised, but also
pleased, when I began using their first names. I told them my own when a
boy asked, but told them that they must use my proper title in class,
"Otherwise nobody will know who the teacher is!" Someone had told them of
my story session in the dorm, and I made a compact with them.

"Behave yourselves in here, and I promise you a story on Friday mornings."

Bribery is always better at getting results than threats ever were.

I spent the afternoons assisting Jock on the sports field, refereeing Rugby
matches. Not very well, but I was picking up the idea. I knew I was making
progress when a tall youth approached me as we left the field.

"Mr. Williams, sir!"

"Yes, that's me."

"We were wondering if you'd be able to ref. a scratch game for us on
Saturday afternoon?

"Tell me about it."

"Just a game between forms: Upper Sixth against Lower Sixth. Not serious
stuff, sir."

"Ok, if you think I'm capable. I've played, of course, but this is my first
stab at controlling a game. What time?"

"Half two, here. Thanks, sir."

Yes, you've guessed it. I saw my chance to get to know some older boys!


Friday came at last. I spent the last part of each period reading the
promised stories. And in the afternoon, my second Gym lesson. Jock was
there, but I was in for a surprise.

He called Jacob across towards the end of the lesson. "Mr. Williams will be
taking Monday's lesson on his own, Jacob. I want you to do something for
me.  When I send the others to the shower, I want you to stay behind.
Instead of the boys putting the equipment away, I want you to do it with
Mr. Williams, so that he will know exactly where it should go. You - and
he, if he wants - can shower afterwards when the others have gone. I'll
leave the keys with Mr. Williams, and you can lock up with him, and bring
the keys to me in my room afterwards."

"Yes, sir. Glad to help." Jacob gave me a flashing smile, and went back to
his Gym work. The lesson ended, and the boys dashed into the shower and
Jock gave me a sly wink as he went to join them. I wondered if this was one
of the days he intended to shower with them. "Oh well" I thought. "That's
his affair."

Jacob and I put the stuff away. We both knew what this was about, and we
took our time, making sure that we were still at it when the boys began to
come out and leave, followed by a grinning Jock. His hair was wet.

The two of us went to the shower room, and I watched for a moment as Jacob
unselfconsciously stripped. I took my own clothes off, and Jacob never took
his eyes off me for a moment. By the time I was naked I was also
disgustingly erect! I stepped into the shower beside the boy. He wasted no
time. He had my cock in his hand for a moment, and then soaped me all over,
so that I was covered with frothy lather, as I stroked his smooth long
body. He was almost as tall as I was, and I turned my head to him and gave
him a lingering kiss. I don't usually find myself kissing partners, but his
sweet, full lips were irresistible. And he responded. Oh, how he responded!
His tongue thrust into my mouth and explored, driving me crazy with
lust. His hands were still caressing my cock, and they were exquisitely
skilful.

"What do you want, Jacob?" I said, reluctantly drawing away from his
kiss. "Whatever you want from me is yours.

He looked at me with his grave brown eyes. "Jock has asked me to give you
what he calls my special treatment. Lie down on the floor, please."

He was in charge, and I was his willing, oh so willing servant. I lay on my
back on the floor of the shower, the hot water raining down on us. He
raised my legs high, higher, so that they were almost over my head, and
smoothly entered me in a lather of soapsuds. Then he took me. There wasn't
a sudden movement in his wonderful performance. He slid in out of me with
no jerking, no thrusting, and no apparent effort at all. Just the sweet
sliding in and out of my receptive body. It was the most delicate
performance I had ever experienced. He seemed to go on for ages, and he
looked down at me, and said "Sorry I'm taking so long, sir."

"Jacob, you can take an hour if you like. Two hours. All night!"

He put on a caricature Jewish voice: "So he wants that we should miss our
kosher pork sausage supper."


Never laugh when you're being fucked. It comes out!


But he was soon back again, and now he did speed up, but as smooth as
ever. He carried on for another minute or two, and then I felt the welcome
warmth of his boy juices deep in me. He withdrew almost at once, and had my
cock in his mouth in one graceful movement. I was so near that in seconds
my cream was mixing with the soapsuds around his mouth. He didn't swallow
it, but spat expertly into the drain.

I got up from the floor, and took him in my arms and held him. I couldn't
resist his soft mouth, and kissed him again, this time tenderly, lip to lip
only. I couldn't find words.

He pulled his head back from mine, and looked into my eyes, his face still
grave.

"I've had sex before, sir, many times..."

"I would have guessed that, Jacob" I interrupted," even if Jock hadn't told
me. You were wonderful. I've never felt like that, not ever. And I've had
sex before too, many times."

"...but no one has ever kissed me. You are the first. I wanted you as soon
as I saw you, and now I don't think I want anyone else for a bit. Will you
be with me again soon?"

"As soon as we can arrange it safely, my dear friend."

We dried ourselves, and got dressed, and locked up. As we reached the Main
School we ran into Jock. He gave me a questioning look, and I smiled back.

"Jacob was a big help, Jock. Thanks!"

"Aye, I thought he would be!"

The boy left us, and I handed Jock his keys. He pulled an identical bunch
out of his pocket.

"Here, Roger. These are yours, complete with whistle." He gave me a nudge
in the ribs. "You'll be able to make use of my little room if you need
to. But knock first, won't you? I

may have occasion to use it myself at weekends. My personal massage
sessions, you know!"

	The old bugger was incorrigible. I liked him a lot.


	I carried on with the evening, ending, so I thought, with my
nightly story for my boys. I settled down with the radio and a book. I had
a few callers, boys who had forgotten to ask permission to go out into the
village or nearby town on their free Saturday afternoon. I did my usual
eleven o'clock round, and all was quiet. I noticed Robert in Jack's bed.

"Just chatting, sir" He said cheerfully. I nodded. "Don't be too long."

I went back to my room. It was a sticky night. `Storm coming` I thought. I
bathed, and sat naked in my room, and went to bed at midnight, still naked,
with only a sheet over me.

The storm woke me at two in the morning: a dramatic affair, with almost
constant lightning and loud thunderclaps. Suddenly a little figure burst
into my bedroom and flung itself into my bed.

It was Michael. "I'm frightened. Can I stay with you till it stops?"

He was trembling, and I didn't have much choice but to let him. He buried
his head into my pillow, with his hands over his ears. I held him close,
and stroked his back, trying to calm him a little. He moved into my arms
properly, and I felt myself responding to his warm body. I told myself that
I must be careful with him. This was a hurt and frightened kid, and it was
no time for thoughts of sex.

`But It's no use telling that to my cock`, I thought, as it stayed as hard
as ever. `He must be aware of it by now`.

He was calmer now, and his hard little three inches was pressed against my
belly. He was wearing only his little loose underpants - I guessed that
like me, he had found the heat oppressive, and had taken his pyjamas off
earlier. I continued to stroke him, and it was clear that he was enjoying
it now. The storm was moving away, with only the odd distant rumble of
thunder.

"Do you feel able to go back to bed now, Michael?"

"Can I stay just a bit longer, sir? It's nice being here with you. You're
like Uncle Philip. I stay with him in the hols, and I go to him if I'm
frightened. He strokes me like you do, and it makes me feel good."

This was practically an invitation! I let my hand slip below the loose
waistline of his pants, and stroked the velvety skin of his little bottom:
no objection. I was using both hands now, and his pants began to slip
down. He raised his hips a little, and I knew he wanted me to push them
down for him. They were soon out of the way round his knees, and he moved
up on me, so that my erection could slide between his legs.

"This is what Uncle likes to do, sir. You don't mind, do you?"

`Mind?` I thought. "No Michael, if it makes you happy, I don't mind."

But I held myself back. This kid needed love and comfort more than he
needed sex just now. that could wait until he was calmer. So I held him
close for a few more minutes.

"Right, Michael. The storm's over. Back to bed with you!"

I pulled his pants up, and picked him up, and carried him back to the dorm,
quite forgetting that I was stark naked. I tucked him up in bed, and sat
there with him. Soon he was sleeping peacefully. I looked round the dorm at
the rest of the sleeping boys, and then saw that Keith was still awake.

"Is he OK, sir? I sent him to you. I would have looked after him, but I was
comforting Billy. You're not cross with me?"

"No, Keith. You did the right thing. I'm always there for anyone of you who
needs me. But not every night, I hope! Can't you sleep either?"

"No sir. It was a great storm, wasn't it?"

"I gather you enjoyed it, then."

"Oh, yes sir; but it's got me excited. I just can't get to sleep after it."

I went across and sat on his bed. I was excited too, and not from the
storm. I knew things were bound to happen soon with Keith. Was this the
time? All the rest were sleeping.

I put my hand out and stroked his head. He looked up at me. The sky was
clear now, and the autumn moon shone on his honest young face. Not a
beautiful kid, I thought, but a very good one. No wonder the littler boys
turned to him for comfort.

He pulled the blankets aside. "Come on, sir. It's cold out there now, after
the storm."

I slipped in beside him, and his arms came round me. He was as naked as I
was.

"Well, here we are, Keith" I whispered. "It's taken just a week. What can I
do for you? The same as Billy?"

"No sir. The other thing, please." He turned away from me, and presented
his behind.

"Are you sure, Keith?"

"Yes, sir, I'm sure."

I felt for his rosebud, and eased a finger in to find out if he was able to
take me. Tight, but not too tight. I positioned myself, and then pressed
the head of my cock at the hole. He relaxed for me, and I knew then that I
wasn't the first. I pushed in, and he pushed back, and I entered him
slowly. I felt the release of pressure as I got through the tightness of
his sphincter, and started to fuck gently. It was over too soon: I'd got
myself too excited with little Michael, and my spunk just had to come
out. I pushed as deep as I dared and then gave him the contents of my
balls; much more than I expected. I lay there for a moment, and then pulled
away.

"And now you, Keith." I turned onto my front, and spread my legs a little.

"Are you sure, sir? I've never done it. Billy's my friend, and he's done it
to me, but he's too little for me to do it to him yet."

"Well, I'm not. Come on, before I fall asleep."

He came on top of me then, and pushed rather clumsily at me. I had to guide
him with my hand into the right position, and even then he had a job
getting in properly. But he managed eventually, and started to fuck me.

It was like being fucked by a dog - not that I've ever had that
experience. He thrust at me with little short jerks, very fast, like a
little boy trying to toss himself off for the first time. It took him quite
a time to get there, and my hole was feeling battered by his onslaught. I
guessed that his `comforting` of Billy earlier had relieved him of some of
his boy juices! He got there at last, and I felt his hotness spurt inside
me. He rolled off me, and lay there exhausted.

"Now we are friends, Keith. But I can see you need extra tuition before you
try poor Billy! I'm sure we can arrange something."

He was yawning. "Bored, Keith - or sleepy?"

"Sleepy sir. Thanks for that, sir. 'Night."

"Good Night Keith. Or rather, Good Morning."

I went back to my bed, and was asleep in minutes.


To be continued.