Date: Tue, 08 Jan 2002 14:09:27 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad123@hotmail.com>
Subject: Flip's Tale: Chapter 5 First Part
Usual Disclaimer: If you are not of an age to read this because of the laws
of your country or district please desist. If you are a bigot or
prod-nosed fundamentalist of any persuasion find your monkey-spanking
literature elsewhere and keep your predilections and opinions to yourself.
Everyone else welcome and comments more than welcome.
My thanks to those who have kept in touch after my previous stories. If
you haven't read them yet I have listed them at the end of this first
episode. Bless you all.
Flip's Tale
Chapter 5a
5A: Plans:
I talked to Aunt Margaret about my future a couple of days after she had
fetched me from the school. I asked if she thought I could do medicine and
become a doctor like her. Tom had already told me that was what he wanted
to do as well. She was ever so pleased and said I would have to work hard
but she had every confidence in me. She also said that there was a Trust
Fund set up by the insurance company after dad died to pay for my education
and that should help a lot.
And, so the holidays started.
Tom and I got on so well it was really as if we had never been away from
each other for long periods of time. We had both grown considerably over
the year and I was nearly six foot even at fifteen. Tom's growth spurt had
come on line with a vengeance and he was now topping five-seven and still
growing. We had both developed in other areas over the year as well. My
cock was now six inches fully loaded and his was getting on for that as
well. His black hairy bush above his cock was more luxurious than mine,
but mine was now a bright chestnutty auburn, darker than my flaming mass of
red head hair. I think we made a fine pair as we set off each day on our
explorations of the country always dressed in our kilts. With my increase
in height I now wore my father's kilt on alternate days.
Tom had developed a great interest in wildlife and we spent many hours
watching and waiting as the creatures and birds around us got used to our
motionless forms. Tom was still as horny as ever and we had a list of
favourite places where we could hide away, strip off our kilts and tee
shirts and spend an hour or so giving each other exquisite pleasure.
Tom's parents took us both on holiday with them to Greece for a fortnight.
There I even developed a bit of a tan while Tom went really dark. He was
determined to get an allover tan so while his parents had their siesta in
the late morning and afternoon we, like mad dogs and Englishmen, would go
off in the midday sun, loping off up the hillside after a small lunch and
sunbathing nude in a secluded area. Seeing each other like that always set
off our hormones and two sweaty bodies would return later to the beach to
bathe the smell of boysex away. As we shared a room and a bed our
love-making continued at night, often three or four times, dozing in
between. As it was very hot during the day our sleepiness wasn't noticed.
We could drop off under the partial shade of a large umbrella during the
morning and between our bouts in the hills in the afternoons. I don't
think I have ever had so much sun-kissed sex as on that holiday. Sun,
sand, sea and sex with Tom. A wonderful combination.
Still Scotland wasn't so bad on our return. I'd told Tom about Simon and
Richard and, just before we parted again when the new term was about to
begin, he shyly broached the subject I'd wanted to talk to him about for
such a long time. The afternoon before he started back at school again we
were lying side by side in the secretness of a clump of trees, still
tasting the residue of each other's boycream, when he leaned across me and
whispered in my ear with great hesitation.
"Flip...," he began, "...Do you love me as much as I love you?"
Those were the words I wanted to hear. We may have only been fifteen but
both of us knew we were made for each other.
I put my arms around him, tears running out of the corners of my eyes and
all I could say was, "Oh, Tom..."
We held each other closely as I then put my own thoughts into words. I
said I'd made two decisions earlier in the year. One was to study medicine
and be a doctor, the other to tell him I wanted to be with him as my
companion and lover in the future. That second thing I said I had wanted
for such a long time. Simon's example was before me and I related all he
had said about how he and Richard had decided to pledge themselves to each
other but waited until both were eighteen before finally committing
themselves to each other and fucking each other. I told him how happy
Simon had been that afternoon when he'd told me about their now consummated
relationship. I remarked that we both knew we were still very young and it
would be difficult for us because, as Simon had explained to me, there were
many people who didn't understand.
Tom was very quiet as I said all this and was gently stroking my arm.
"Oh, Flip," he said finally, "I've loved you from that very first day I met
you. I knew before then that I only liked boys and I knew from that moment
I wanted you if you would have me. That day you fucked me and I fucked you
was the happiest day of my life. If you never wanted to see me again after
that I would never forget you and your love. Simon waited and now he knows
how much he loves Richard. We didn't wait but I know how much I love you.
Please, Flip, whatever happens to us between now and when we can be
together always nothing will matter, then there will be just you and me."
Oh dear, my thoughts were racing, was I old enough to make such a deep
commitment? Tom was deadly serious. I knew I wanted Tom. I whispered in
his ear, "I love you...., for always."
We lay in each other's arms and just enjoyed the feeling of closeness and
deep love.
I think Aunt Margaret sensed there was something more than just a boyish
friendship between us. I couldn't tell her yet and she didn't enquire, but
she gave Tom and me every opportunity to be together. Towards the end of
the holiday Tom's parents were called up to his father's parents' home as
Tom's grandfather was taken seriously ill. Tom and I house sat for three
days, rarely leaving the police house on the pretext that the 'phone might
ring but, in reality, keeping as close together as possible. We decided
not to fuck again until we both felt ready but we explored each other's
bodies in a myriad ways, each so sensitive and responsive to the other's
touch. We also had to make a pact that we could both have encounters with
others as long as we didn't keep any secrets from each other. Especially,
Tom wanted me to remain a good friend and companion to Ghazi and said he
also wanted to share our love with him.
Tom had also made his plans which we discussed. He said he wanted to study
medicine as well, would I mind? As if I would! When he told his parents
they were very pleased he wanted to go to university and said they would
support him as far as they could. It would be expensive but he was their
only child but Mr McLaren had also just been promoted to Sergeant and there
were further promotions in line.
Tom was so open and kind I knew I would have a faithful companion for life
when the time came. I had to explain somehow to Michael and it was
patently clear that he and Darryll were very close by the tone and contents
of the two letters I received from him during the holiday. The second
contained a photo of him and Darryll, side by side, arms round each other's
shoulders, gurning idiotically at the camera on a beach - somewhere in
Greece! He managed to convey that they were more than just good friends by
the continual use of 'We'. I still loved Michael for being the friend who
had helped me over my troubles but I was so happy he had found someone for
himself. I wondered what would have happened if the four of us had met up
because we had all been in Greece at the same time!
There was little news from home. I'd sent cards and letters to Stuart and
he had responded in kind. He had proudly told me he came top of his class
and Aunt Margaret made the comment that he was following in the footsteps
of the older Menzies. I dearly wanted to see Stuart again but I still had
no straightforward correspondence with my mother. She, like Simon's
parents for him, had sent me a cheque for my birthday in April. The card
enclosing it, thank goodness, hadn't mentioned Ray the Creep.
Of course, the death of Diana that August was a black time. I'd had a
'phone call from Paul who said his parents were going down to London for
the funeral and I knew Hamed had seen the Christmas card which was amongst
the great crowd displayed while we were at Linnhe. He had stood by me
while I was inspecting it and smiled when I looked at him.
5B: Winter Term 1997
So my second year at Kinloch began. Aunt Margaret deposited me outside Mr
McCrae's house and went in to have coffee with Mrs McCrae. Of course,
there was no Simon. He'd sent me a card from Edinburgh a couple of days
earlier wishing me well and said he was looking forward to his first term
at medical school. No Robbie MacPherson, who had gone off for a year to
Australia before going to university. Two new senior House prefects were
there to see us all arrive and to control the new bugs who had, as usual,
arrived the day before.
As I was standing looking at my luggage Mr McCrae came round the side of
the house. Sam and Boz rushed around me wagging their tails.
"Come here, you damn dogs. Can't control them, worse than boys." He
looked me up and down. "Glad you're back. A good few changes. No more
Simon or Robbie, plenty of new bugs and you're in the exam year now. Quite
a few others have gone too..., young Crowley's decided to pursue his
Highers nearer home."
Oh, my God, why did he say that? I waited for the chop. Instant dismissal
for grievous bodily harm.
He drew on his pipe. "By the way, I'm producing the school play this
term..., Hamlet." He pointed the pipe at me, "You and Paul can be the
gravediggers and I think I'll cast young Ghazi as the ghost of Hamlet's
father, but he'll need a bit of camouflage for that.... OK?"
He knew and I marvelled again at the way schoolmasters knew so much of what
was going on. This was confirmed when I asked Paul and Ghazi later if they
had met Mr McCrae. They knew he'd twigged who the perpetrators were as
they'd had the exact interaction with him as I'd had. I was even more
convinced when, in the school library a couple of days later, I perused the
dramatis personae of the play and found there, 'two clowns, grave-diggers'.
I was just about to take my bags up to the dorm when the bus arrived from
the station. I waited and wasn't disappointed as soon the unmistakable
sounds of Clyde's voice rang round the approach to the house. Sure enough,
a trolley loaded with bags also appeared, but the biggest shock was the now
slim-line Clyde who was berating his companion pushers, Hamed and Ghazi.
Gone was the plumpness, gone also were the owlish spectacles. A bright,
fresh- faced, taller Clyde was in full voice. Hamed and Ghazi were
laughing uproariously as he stood back and let them push the final few
yards.
"Goddam it, Flapso!" he called out. Then he spotted my aunt who was just
emerging from the McCrae's house. "Why hallo, Dr Menzies," he said, oozing
the charm of a Southern gentleman, "What d'you feed that hulking great
nephew of yours on? If he came to my granddaddy's health resort he's get
rid of all those spots he's got with a proper balanced diet!"
My aunt guffawed. She'd prescribed some liquid, which stung like buggery
(to coin a phrase), when she found me one morning peering disconsolately
into the kitchen mirror and fingering the rampant acne round my lower jaw.
Trust Clyde to draw attention to my weak spot, or spots! I felt like
ramming the largest object I could find right up his tailpipe! He was
undeterred by the venomous look I shot at him.
"We've..." here he waved an arm expansively at Hamed and Ghazi, " ....spent
eight goddam glorious weeks at my granddaddy's latest interest. He's sold
his goddam hosses and bought this retirement present for himself...."
Here Ghazi and Hamed relapsed into laughter again. Clyde's language had
not improved but my aunt laughed merrily as well.
He pointed an admonitory finger at Ghazi and Hamed. "These boys
accompanied me and helped my granddaddy out of his great difficulty of
getting good supporting staff. We have brought new life to many tired, and
if I may say so, unduly surplussed, clients......."
Ghazi could stand it no longer. "Oh, shut up, Clyde, you sound like one of
your granddaddy's brochures." He came over to my aunt. "Please, Dr
Menzies, take no notice of him. His granddaddy put him on the strictest
regime and now you see the new Clyde, contact lenses as well, but still as
noisy as ever. His granddaddy says when we go there next time he's going
to put him in a cage with a gag on as a prize exhibit."
His balloon pricked Clyde stayed silent while we congratulated him on his
new look. He smiled and said it was all with the help of Hamed and Ghazi
who had sustained him when he was so, so hungry at times. With that, Mr
McCrae came out with the two dogs. They sniffed suspiciously at Clyde's
legs.
"Good God!" he said, when he had taken in the sight before him. "I thought
I heard the voice but who is it?" He turned to Hamed. "So, who's your
svelte friend? Is it a new bug I don't know about?"
Hamed said he and Ghazi had been bugged by Clyde for the past eight weeks.
Mr McCrae laughed and went off in close conversation with Aunt Margaret. I
wondered if bugged was actually a shortened form of a slightly longer word
as I suspected Clyde's dagger had needed sharpening during that time!
5C: The Play's the Thing:
The Winter Term sped by. The play's the thing! We hammed Hamlet up, Paul
and I appearing with torn, dishevelled doublets and hose, flashing our
muscles, getting a round of applause at each of the three performances.
Ghazi appeared all in white and nearly brought the house down with his
sepulchral delivery. Our muscle-building had progressed well during the
term. The three of us had to move to the proper gym for most of our
sessions as Mr McCrae was a bit worried in case we overdid things.
However, Simon had left his stuff for us and we tried to have a few minutes
every day, when we weren't in the gym, doing a few reps and curls in the
garage. Mainly Ghazi and myself on those occasions and this did lead to
several 'extra-curricular activity' sessions as well where we practised
press-ups over each other's cocks. Two of the previous year's new bugs
asked if they could join our group. I don't know if either wanted anything
extra - perhaps they pleasured each other, but we weren't interested. -
they exercised very energetically and were very pleased with even one
term's results.
Six of us in dorm, excluding Clyde, where now full members of the House XV
and Paul, who was growing ever faster was a reserve for the School First
XV. Little Dick was shooting up and on his sixteenth birthday in November
proudly announced he was now five feet eight inches tall. Paul cryptically
remarked that if he grew any more he'd be eight inches elsewhere. I did
note, while observing a series of Fergie's nightly wanking sessions, which
always spurred me on to faster stroking, that his cock was now not only
very long but was also getting thicker. I was pretty certain that Hamed
and Clyde were up to no good as well. They disappeared, on the pretext of
playing golf, most times Hamed wasn't required for rugger, coming back with
satisfied looks on their faces and I was sure they weren't just trying out
backswings and underhand grips which were a topic of much of their
conversation in the dorm.
5D: Hogmanay at Linnhe and After: 1997/1998
An invitation for Hogmanay at Linnhe Castle came for all of us. The
sweetest thing was that Tom was invited as well. Again, Fergie and Little
Dick declined but when we arrived on New Year's Eve who should also arrive
but Simon and Richard. Richard was such a nice person as well as a real
hunk, just like Simon, and took over Roddy's role as the 'older brother' as
he was somewhere in Germany with his regiment. Paul was bunking with Ghazi
and the look on their faces each morning was as if both cats had had the
cream. Tom and I were together and made the most of it. So what with
Hamed and Clyde and Richard and Simon I think a good time was had by all.
Ghazi came and stayed again for Easter 1998. We celebrated our sixteenth
birthdays with Tom making great play on the fact that mine on April the
fifth fell on Palm Sunday. He said that ordinary lovers celebrated on St
Valentine's Day but Palm Sunday was more appropriate for ardent
masturbators like me. He didn't get away with that as he was palmed
several times the next day by both Ghazi and me on one of our jaunts.
I have never worked so hard as over that Easter holiday. All three of us
had our exams at the beginning of the Summer term. All three of us took
our books and notes out each day and worked away at our various tasks.
Quite a bit overlapped between us and I felt that I knew far more because
of the help we'd given each other. The exams came and went and the wait
for the results seem interminable.
All seven of us were staying on for the Sixth Form. Only Little Dick
hadn't taken any exams but he was coming back, we were told, to prepare for
entry to an agricultural college. Ghazi and Hamed spent the Summer again
with Clyde at his granddaddy's health resort in the South of France.
Excited 'phone calls flew around when the results were announced. Both Tom
and I had done exceptionally well. Fergie astounded us as in his quiet way
as he had taken further subjects and got top marks in all. Ghazi, Hamed
and Clyde were well satisfied with their results. For some reason Paul
came down on two of his subjects and was pretty morose about it. Still we
all turned up ready for the First Year Sixth. Paul was over the moon as he
was elected as Vice-Captain of the First XV. Clyde, of course, wanted to
know what vice it was.
5E: First Year Sixth: September 1998
We seven no longer shared the dorm. As Sixth Formers now we were promoted
to the fourth floor where Ghazi and I shared a room as did Clyde and Hamed.
Fergie and Paul insisted that Little Dick should be with them so they had a
separate room as their study while the three of them shared the original
study-bedroom. We spent a lot of time in each others' rooms and our
camaderie flourished. We never enquired about the others but Ghazi and I
slept together almost every night. We had to remember to alternate beds
over the week so that our sheets were equally scruffy and slept in.
I was now over six foot and Ghazi was nearly five ten so the pair of us in
a single bed made for one adolescent led to many giggles as we manoeuvred
ourselves into the most comfortable position. We enjoyed each other's
bodies immensely and always shared everything we did. So much so that Paul
one afternoon observed that if we insisted in moving the furniture around
in our room at midnight would we do it more quietly as he needed his sleep
next door. Needless to say we made sure the bed bumped the wall
rhythmically that night.
The Sunday chapel ritual Paul and I had started two years previously had
blossomed. There were always at least a dozen of our House who appeared
clad in the kilt. That first Sunday there were two surprises. Clyde, who
had only worn his Glaswegian tartan at Linnhe appeared resplendent in his
own clan kilt as he had found the Scottish connection of his family line.
The second surprise was even greater. As we marched into the chapel we
were greeted with the organ thundering out. I looked to see who was
playing as I expected to see Dr Baines as Nelson had gone to one of the
Oxbridge colleges as an organ scholar. Oh, my! It was Little Dick! For
someone for whom the square root of forty-nine was an arcane mystery to
have such talent was heart-stopping. I looked at Paul and Fergie and the
pride in their eyes brought tears to mine.
That year also passed rapidly. We had settled into a routine over holidays
with the Campbells once again inviting all of us for Hogmanay. The big
news there was that Walter the Banker and his wife, married during that
Summer, had a kid on the way so Paul would be an uncle! I found out from
conversation with Mr Campbell that at the wedding, to which Charles
Parsons, the Sheik's secretary, had been invited, he had said Hamed's uncle
was so pleased with his progress that he wanted to know what had happened.
Paul had obviously not told his father the story of that Sunday night, and
I didn't enlighten him, but just said I thought he'd learned very quickly
to value friends. Mr Campbell said that was something you either learned
quickly or not at all. True.
My seventeenth birthday during the Easter break came and went as did
Ghazi's. We had some uproarious times especially with Tom being so amazed
how hairy Ghazi was even at seventeen. He was developing quite a mat of
very fine, very black hair on his pecs with a dense treasure trail leading
to a mass of curly tufts around the base of his cock. Having also observed
Hamed in the changing rooms I knew he was also going the same way but even
though he was that much older than Ghazi he was both shorter and less
hairy.
Where he did win was in the lengthy tool which hung between his legs.
Lying in bed one night I asked Ghazi if he knew what Hamed and Clyde did.
I learned then that it was true that Clyde fucked Hamed as much as
possible. As we had no secrets from each other Ghazi described several
encounters he'd witnessed when at the health resort. Although Clyde's cock
always seemed on the shortish side, apparently it lengthened considerably
as he became erect.
The Summer term exams came and went. I was determined to do well so really
worked hard. I also became quite proficient at computing having Ghazi as a
willing and most competent guide. We appropriated Clyde's old Mac which
had lain unused in his locker ever since he's unpacked it two years before
- "Goddam thing, my daddy said I was to have one - what goddam for?"
Somehow Ghazi, with his newfound skills, managed to hook it up to the
Internet through an unused line and we browsed some very revealing sites.
5F: Summer 1999
We all split up for the summer holiday. I took a schedule of work home as
I was to go for interview at medical school early next term. I found Tom
was also going the same day and consulted Simon and Richard by 'phone about
what might be asked. They were quite positive that with our academic and
sporting records we would both have a good chance of being accepted.
Fingers crossed.
We certainly didn't keep our legs crossed that holiday. I had read
somewhere that seventeen was the peak age for sexual activity. If it was
it seemed no different for either Tom and I from the time we were fourteen.
Probably the most different thing was that our encounters were now not just
a release - the old genital sneeze - but were carefully orchestrated to
give maximum pleasure. We kept a tally that summer and over the time we
spent together we averaged nearly three times each every day. Tom did
remark it was a reduction on his frenzied activity when he first learned
the joys of wanking but said he just loved his ginger friend's horny hand
curled round his massive Scottish claymore. I retaliated on three counts;
cheek, lies and boastfulness. I said my hair was bright auburn, my hands
weren't horny, not in the same way that he was in bodily needs, and that
thing between his legs wasn't big enough to poke a Sassenach's eye out let
alone decapitate him.
I shut his screams of mirth off abruptly when I then had him on his back
tickling him by presenting him with my version of his favourite dish, a
Clootie Dumpling. I said his mother never made anything so sweet and tasty
as mine and he could suck the fruit out of it as much as he wanted. He
couldn't laugh out loud as my cock was now well entrenched in his jaws and
a swift turn about gave me that so-familiar taste of his own, slightly less
massive, Clootie. So we spent our days until it was time to begin our last
stint of boyhood.
5G: My Final Year Begins: September 1999:
Of course, we were all now to begin our final school year. At the end of
last term it was announced that Paul was not only going to be Head of
School but also Captain of Rugby with Hamed as his Vice-Captain. So, Paul
was following in the steps of his two elder brothers and was very proud but
also relieved to have such honours. Paul was also promoted to be Sergeant
Major in the CCF, with Fergie as his Staff-Sergeant, which was going to be
very useful when they made their bid for Officer Training. The big
surprise was that Clyde was asked to be Head Boy of McCrae House. Really
it wasn't a surprise. Given all the supposed brashness, the flashiness,
the out-and-out Southern charm, no-one ever had a bad word for him. His
tongue was sharp, he despised any appearance of superiority, but he was the
sincerest friend anyone could ever have. Hamed had recognised this and the
pair were inseparable.
The first day back was one of meeting old friends. As usual Aunt Margaret
drove me there - or rather I drove us, as I had passed my test during that
summer holiday. No sooner had I stopped the Range Rover than Boz and Sam
were all over me. This meant that Mr McCrae was in the offing. Sure
enough he appeared greeting Aunt Margaret effusively and pointing her
towards the coffee-pot which he said he knew was ready in the house.
He eyed me up and down. "They don't get much bigger than us, do they?" he
said. We were now the same height, six foot three. "Still, you did well
in the exams, more to come this year, eh?" I nodded, that was praise
enough from the laconic Mr McCrae. I had done well. "Anyway, school
play's Macbeth this year, good choice but Paul will not be playing Macbeth,
even if he is supposed to be descended from the Thane." He wagged his pipe
at me. "You, Ghazi and Paul will be the three witches. Most appropriate,
brewing up trouble for the wicked."
Schoolmasters never forget.
The seven of us roomed as we had the year before. I was in our room when
Ghazi appeared closely followed by Hamed and Clyde. Hamed had grown a very
fine moustache over the holiday and Clyde was telling him as he was now
Head of House he would decide whether moustaches were allowed, but perhaps
as Hamed was now a Sergeant in the CCF and still not much bigger than a
four-year-old he might be allowed to keep it. All three had spent the
summer at granddaddy's health resort. All three were brimming full of good
health and all hugged me tightly in greeting.
"Hi, Flopso, we got a new line for the goddam extroverts," said Clyde later
that evening, coming into Ghazi's and my room when he'd unpacked at least
one of his many bags. "Granddaddy has extended the goddam gym so we had
masses of your goddam European thirty-somethings all keen to expose their
goddam pale bodies while on those goddam machines." He paused to take
breath and held up a cardboard box and Ghazi dissolved into giggles. He
ignored him, just shaking his head disdainfully, "Unfortunately, someone we
know well underestimated their goddam general size, so, when I told my
granddaddy you were a real skinny fucker he sent you a boxful of the goddam
leftovers."
Knowing even disrespectful Clyde would never use such language to his
granddaddy and by the side of him - the new, tall, slimline version of the
old Clyde - I was rather well-built, I wondered what was in the largish
cardboard box thrust at me. I opened it gingerly as Ghazi, who obviously
knew its contents and was obviously the culprit, started to laugh
uproariously. I grinned at the contents, about three dozen posing pouches
ranging from minuscule to minute in all sorts of colours.
"You'll bloody get me arrested if I wear any of these," I said, shaking out
of it's packet a satin lycra number in bright red.
Needless to say they were worn. I distributed them to our First and Second
Rugby XV's and we all paraded for group photos of various dimensions after
the final game of the term. It's said you need balls to play rugger. The
swellings on display gave credence to one interpretation of that statement
and I know a few startled parents and girlfriends received rather revealing
Christmas cards that year.
Ghazi and I resumed our almost nightly adventures. That first night back
he confessed he'd missed me over the summer, having to make do, as he coyly
put it, with shaking hands with the unemployed, while Hamed and Clyde,
according to him, were going at it hammer and tongs in the next room. He
admitted he'd met a young French kid, our age, who'd been at the resort
with his widowed mother, and the lad had ended up in bed with him for the
last few nights of his stay. He said he now had a standing invitation to
visit Toulouse at any time. I pointed out that the lad was probably
spellbound by Ghazi's perpetual standing which earned me two mouthfuls of
his so well-remembered boycream as a reward, as he said, for my
perspicacity. After sharing the first with him I said he had plenty to
lose.
A couple of weeks later I met up with Tom on the train when we went for our
medical school interviews. Sweet relief - I was shitting bricks with
apprehension - we were both offered places on condition of satisfactory
exam grades. We stayed the night with Simon and Richard and I, flush with
the money I hadn't spent from my allowance over the summer, took us all to
a rather posh restaurant. What with the food and drink and lack of sleep
that night because of... - what else could I blame other than Tom's
insatiability, and my willingness - ...I was quite exhausted when I arrived
back at school early the next evening and entered the prep room carrying my
overnight bag.
Clyde was the first to greet me as he was haranguing the new bugs about the
interpretation of some rule or other and clapped me on the back at the
news. "Goddam it, Flipper, my granddaddy would have yo'all on the goddam
payroll straightaway. Two young, handsome medics, you and that winsome
Tom, in your wee skirts..."
Six foot three met five foot ten in an unholy rumble on the prep room floor
watched, open- mouthed, by the gaggle of new bugs who soon realised that
the heaving mass was really two great friends hugging each other. Others
crowded round and I was being congratulated on all sides by all and sundry
when Paul, alerted by the noise came striding in.
Being Head of School, Captain of Rugby and Sergeant Major had made Paul an
object of awe for the new bugs and even for the Second and Third Years
present who were trying, unsuccessfully now, to complete their prep before
supper.
"What the hell!" were his opening words, only to have himself pushed aside
by Hamed and Ghazi rushing into the room shouting out "What's the news?"
So, that was how I knew once again that my friends were real friends. Even
more so when that night, just before lights out, the seven of us
congregated in the trio's study and Paul produced a bottle of his father's
malt whisky saying his father had known I'd be the first to hear good news
and wanted us to celebrate it in the proper Scots way.
More good news followed fast. Both Paul and Fergie had been accepted for
officer training. Ghazi heard his application for a place at a prestigious
London college to study Economics was confirmed.. The strangest news was
that Hamed had given up the idea of a military career. His uncle had
stayed at Clyde's granddaddy's health resort and been cured of some stomach
upset and was so enamoured of the place and the royal treatment he got,
together with their joint interest in horses, he was proposing to help with
further extensions. So, without much persuading on anybody's part, Hamed
and Clyde were going to work together there - no worries about university,
square-bashing or what have you.
Term work built up. Ghazi, Paul and I worked off our frustrations over
maths and physics with intense workout sessions in the gym and the garage.
Ghazi and I relieved our delving into our biological heritage by more
intimate explorations of our own structures and functions. Paul's other
duties meant that Hamed took over much of the running of the First XV. I
had often envied Clyde's possession of Hamed's tightly muscled young body
as his faithfulness never wavered and, other than that initial fondling of
each other's young manhoods three years previously, I, nor anyone else
other than Clyde, never did any more than that with him. We were good
friends though and there was hardly a week which went past when we didn't
give each other a brotherly hug over some triumph or other.
Fergie quietly got on with his work and looking after Little Dick's
interests. I often heard them discussing music and realised this was a
common bond between them. Little Dick spent more and more time in chapel
playing the organ. In fact, whenever I could I would take a textbook or my
notes and secrete myself in a corner while Bach, Parry, Stanford or Cesar
Franck soared round my head. It was interesting that when I was sitting my
Highers in the Summer Term how often a remembered fact was accompanied by
the phrase of music I had heard when learning it.
5H: Paul:
The other thing which occupied quite a bit of our time was Macbeth or that
bloody Scottish play as it was usually referred to because of the ill-luck
that was supposed to accompany it. Three of the ugliest, largest and most
evilly-attired witches opened the play and when we doubled and bubbled in
Act IV there were howls of laughter as one of the new bugs, promoted to
being a sorcerers' apprentice of the Harry Potter variety, but not in the
hallowed script, was bodily upended into the cauldron as the final
ingredient.
As it so happened the new bug was a component in one of the two contretemps
Paul had to deal with in that first term of high office.
The first was when Clyde consulted him as Head Boy and me as Devil's
Advocate, over a delicate situation. One of the Lower Sixth in the House
had apparently been making advances towards this new bug, a blond,
curly-haired lad with Cupid-bow lips, who was reputed to be hung, at
thirteen and a half, like a horse. How or why, I do not know, whether
through sheer ignorance or wilfulness, this child had boasted openly in the
prep room that he and Antony, the Sixth Former, had decided they wanted to
share a room together. This was the stuff that rumours, and more serious
trouble, were made of.
When confronted, Antony Fuller said it wasn't true. Then he confessed he
was infatuated with the kid and had told him he wouldn't mind sharing a
room with him but maintained he had never touched him. This last bit was
most probably true as we knew Antony and his cell- mate were soul-mates so
he was told in no uncertain terms to definitely keep his hands to himself
or to his own age-group.
The new bug was interviewed by we three, just as a precaution, Clyde
laughingly said, in case he claimed he'd been raped by Paul, and given a
very stern ticking-off with the injunction that it was always wise to keep
one's mouth shut. The kid blubbed and admitted he was fond of Antony and
was very sorry he'd got him into trouble but he couldn't help it and his
best friend said he would be responsible for him if he was forgiven.
After much nodding of sage heads, faces kept tightly in stern lines but
shoulders heaving, we conferred and said all was forgiven but... After
that the grateful child became our shadow and we, to get him off our backs
a bit, decided, with Mr McCrae's unquestioning permission, to create the
role for him. Of course, we had to tell Ghazi why.
What was interesting was that while in the dressing room getting our
costumes on for the dress rehearsal we were able to confirm the rumour.
Little Master Christopher Phelps had a horsecock to match any of ours.
Ghazi took one look and leaned confidentially over to me and opined that
you couldn't do anything else but keep your mouth shut about that!
The other incident could have been very serious. A rather officious Sixth
Former in another House, a corporal in the CCF, had discovered two of the
Third Year cadets from our House in flagrante delicto, i.e. tossing each
other off, in the back room of the CCF stores, which they were supposed to
be minding at the time. He'd gone in to collect some equipment and,
finding no one behind the counter, had snooped and was full of righteous
Presbyterian indignation.
When Paul consulted our little group about what should be done he said half
the trouble was that the two lads were in our House, and we'd thoroughly
beaten the other lot in the first round of the inter-House rugger
tournament, and the other half was that prissy Angus Reid was irked because
he was only a corporal when daddy was a colonel and expected greater
things.
It was decided that Paul and Fergie would put on a pseudo-court-martial
which would mollify Angus and keep him from blabbing to the powers that be.
I was roped in again and was told I could be an observer to see fair play.
The courtroom was to be the trio's study so at the appointed time Paul and
Fergie were seated behind the communal desk and I was perched, primly, on a
chair at the side. But, what the prime actors in this drama did not know
was that Ghazi, Clyde and Hamed had each acquired a lap-top computer in
London after their sojourn in France and Ghazi had also equipped himself
with a webcam. Somehow Ghazi had daisy- chained the computers so one, with
the webcam sitting on top, was on the book case in the study and the other
two were strategically placed in Ghazi's and my room connected by a wire
through a convenient hole in the wall made by previous occupants. This
meant a good view of the proceedings could be had by Ghazi and Hamed and
highlights recorded for evidence if needed.
There was a clatter of hefty boots as the two young wankers were marched in
by a straight- backed, nose in the air, Corporal Angus Reid. The three
stood stiffly to attention in front of the desk, all three bulled up to the
eyebrows and looking very, very smart. Angus ordered the two youngsters to
remove their glengarries which they then nervously clutched in their left
hands.
Paul cast a practised eye over the pair of them and must have thought they
were smart enough as he then proceeded to spell out the composition of the
board. While he was doing this I had a good look at the two lads who now
looked very woebegone. They had even had very short haircuts in
preparation for their ordeal. I knew them both having watched their
progress from their entry as new bugs two years before. In fact, I'd
helped one of the lads, Jamie Drummond, with maths several times and he
cast a wary eye at me, but I kept a poker face as his lower jaw began to
quiver. He was eminently bed-worthy, according to the points system which
the Sixth-Formers always used when assessing, jocularly most of the time
unless it got out of hand as with that prime prat Antony Fuller, whether
they would kick a kid out of bed. His uniform fitted him well showing off
a trim figure and a rounded butt, which I'd also noted had filled out his
tight shorts when I'd coached the scrum for the Junior House XV match a
couple of weeks previously.
The other lad, Pete Douglas, was a dark horse. I only knew him slightly as
he went about the House quietly and I'd had little interaction with him.
He'd opted for hockey and was the only one in his year not in the House
Junior XV. Looking at him more closely I surmised that he must be
well-developed for his age of fifteen. There were definite signs of an
incipient moustache and the evenness of his sideburns looked as if he was
already shaving quite regularly. Poor bugger, if his hormones raged like
mine at that age, then sweet relief on a regular basis, even in the
backroom of the stores with a buddy, was a prime necessity. If it was to
be with the fresh-faced lad by his side all the more comfort.
Paul then read the charge. Worded by Angus it came out as a mishmash of
Queen's Regulations as being conduct to the prejudice of good order and
discipline in that the two named, Cadet Peter David Bowen Douglas and Cadet
James Arthur Stewart Drummond, had been discovered in the process of
performing a lewd act together, wearing the Queen's uniform, whilst on
duty.
Both lads looked suitably cowed. The Head of School, Paul Adam Duncan
Campbell, Captain of Rugby and Sergeant Major in the CCF together with
Staff Sergeant Fergus St. Andrew Cowen and Phillip Thomas Menzies, the
No.8 in the First XV, not only knew they were real wankers but also that
they were helping each other in their depravity.
I don't know how Paul did it with a straight face but he began to question
Angus.
"So, Corporal, were the cadets touching each other?"
"Yes, Sir."
"In what way were they touching?"
Angus began to colour. He mouthed silently, then said slowly, "Sir, they
were holding each other's sexual parts."
"And which parts were they?"
Angus was clearly not expecting this interrogation. Again he seem to
mutter something to himself. Then he cleared his throat.
"They were holding each other's penises, Sir."
"And in what state were their penises?"
Angus's mouth opened and shut. No sound came. I looked at Fergie who was
staring ahead through half-closed eyes
"I asked, in what state were their penises, Corporal?" inquired Paul very
deliberately and with quite an edge to his voice.
Angus was bright red now.
"In an erect state, Sir." The last word almost spat out.
"And in what way were they handling each other's erect penises?" asked a
very composed Paul.
"Holding them, Sir," came the answer after a short pause.
"Is that all, just holding them?"
"Yes Sir, when I entered the room they must have heard me so they were just
holding each other."
Paul turned to Fergie.
"Staff-Sergeant, are there any questions you wish to ask?"
Fergie nodded.
"Was there any other evidence of a lewd act having been committed?" he
asked.
Angus's eyes nearly popped. He didn't reply.
Fergie continued. "You saw no evidence of an act having been completed?"
Angus breathed out. "No, Staff."
"So, they could have just been examining each other, say, looking for
jockrash, or scabies, or whatever, before asking matron's advice. You
didn't enquire?"
This was too much for Angus. He turned bright red and blurted out in
strangled Aberdonian tones, "Those cheeky little fuckers were bloody well
tossing each other off!
I should know...." He stopped on that rising phrase before anything else
of an incriminatory nature was divulged.
Paul and Fergie were a picture of calm. I couldn't wait to see what the
webcam had recorded or what the webcam viewers were doing at that moment.
Stuffing football socks or pillows in their mouths to stop them from
shrieking with laughter most probably.
Paul took over.
"Thank you Corporal for your evidence. Please would you wait outside while
we take further evidence from the accused."
I stood up and opened the door. Angus turned smartly on his heels and
stomped out, more loudly than necessary I felt. I closed the door and
perched again.
Paul looked at the two miscreants who seemed ready to wet themselves.
"What have you to say for yourselves? Anything?"
He fixed his gaze on the bubble-butted one, young Jamie.
"Please Sir, we weren't wearing the Queen's uniform," he said, his voice
faltering at the end.
Paul raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"No, Sir, we'd taken our uniforms off." A little note of confidence
appeared here.
Straight-faced Paul looked at the other one and raised his eyebrow again.
I guessed if he'd opened his mouth he would have collapsed.
"Please Sir," the lad said, his post-pubescent voice a pleasant tenor, but
quavering a bit, "We weren't really on duty. It wasn't our turn but
Sergeant asked us to mind the store while he went and had a ciggie...." He
stopped, having dropped our friend Freddie Turner right in the shit as the
school had a strict no-smoking policy for pupils which was obeyed somewhat.
Paul looked from one to the other. Bubble-butt had relapsed, he had the
beginnings of a quiver by the side of his mouth and looked really worried.
The other had pursed his lips and was standing eyes cast down. Paul
whispered to Fergie but I couldn't catch what he said. Fergie nodded when
he'd finished, then Paul delivered the judgment in a clipped and forceful
manner.
"Right, look up and stand to attention!" Two bodies jerked and stood even
more stiffly, I think almost too frightened to breathe. "Your punishment
is to have that store and backroom in such a state of cleanliness that your
father's ghillie..." He pointed at the saturnine one. "...could cast a fly
without disturbing a mote of dust. I'll inspect it with Phillip and Staff
Sergeant Cowen tomorrow at eighteen hundred hours." He paused to let that
sink in. Then, in a quieter voice but still with an edge of steel, he went
on, "Now. A word of advice. We in this room have no interest in what you
do in your spare time but there are two rules if you can't keep your hands
to yourselves. Firstly, don't be caught..., secondly, if you are, make
sure it's not Corporal Reid. And just remember..., always keep a civil
tongue in your head..., and the key to the backroom to the stores is the
third one from the left on the rack! Dismiss!"
Both mouths were wide open as they automatically remembered to turn to the
right. I leapt up and opened the door as heads held high they marched out
and down the corridor.
Paul called Corporal Reid in. He told him the judgment, also that the
matter was closed and he wanted no discussion of this distasteful aspect of
Cadet business outside this room. He didn't mention the bit about his
advice or where the key was. Reid looked pleased, the straitlaced sod. He
said that he had not discussed the matter with anyone nor would he, as
ordered. God! it was my bounden duty to dish the dirt on him if I could
find any! He was dismissed and marched away, clattering down the stairs.
I closed the door and looked at Paul.
"Want a wank, my old mates?" he said in the unmistakable Aberdeen accent of
priggy Reid and for the benefit of our unseen viewers and listeners.
The door burst open and Hamed and Ghazi rushed in cackling like maniacs.
I said quietly to Paul and Fergie, shaking my head, "I don't know how you
did that, but I take my hat off to you."
We all agreed that Paul and Fergie had averted a real disaster. Angus
couldn't say another word having more or less admitted he'd had experience
of joint jacking off sessions, in any case his embarrassment had been
mitigated by the level of punishment meted out so he would be satisfied on
that count. Two lads had learned a salutary lesson and would be eternally
grateful to the senior members of the House. We also had a record of a
most interesting half-hour which we sat and watched with Clyde, chuckling
at Angus's discomfort during the interrogation. However, level-headed
Clyde made Ghazi erase the recording after we'd seen it. That chapter in
the life of the House was most definitely going to be closed and stay shut.
To be continued:
Other stories you might be interested to read are:
Spying on My Brothers: Incest Section: May 2000
Easter Rugger Tours and after: H/S Section: Jun 2000
Jordan's Story: H/S Section: July 2000
Flames ignored!