I disclaim! Who disclaims? Everybody! About everything you can think of! With knobs on!

Well yet again, this was intended to be the final chapter of ‘A Sporting Chance’. But it’s not. It just got far too long; this is the longest chapter I’ve ever posted as it is, and the story’s nowhere near finished. The thing is I’ve never written before about a full blown orgy involving twenty boys and two adults, with the action taking place in four different rooms; something akin to sex as war conducted by other means. And I’m sure you wanted me to do it justice. But the next chapter will be the last; I promise!

So read on and enjoy! As ever feedback will be more than welcome and I promise to reply to it. Please send your comments to pinkpanther2@hotmail.co.uk and I’ll reply as soon as I can.




The boys headed back to the changing room to get showered and dressed. The level of excitement at the prospect of the activities that would follow later that evening was all too obvious.

“As soon as you’re ready, just sit on the bench,” Jim instructed.

Eventually, everyone was seated. Jim looked round; they fell silent.

“I just wanted to say well done for today. It’s our first sevens tournament and every one of you performed superbly. You reached the final where you came up against a very good team; I could not have asked for more. Right, let’s go and get the sleeping arrangements sorted out, then there’ll be time to relax before supper at six.”

They made their way out. Tristan was waiting for them.

“Right, let’s take you across to my little empire,” he said smiling.

They walked the short distance to the school buildings and went inside. Tristan took them to a common room where the Fraylsham Park boys were. Lewis-Marshall came across to them.

“Take our guests up to the dormitories, there’s a good chap,” Tristan said, “and show them where the showers and toilets are.”

Lewis-Marshall led the way upstairs and along a corridor. He opened a door.

“You can all leave your bags in this one for now,” he said in a very superior tone. “We can sort out who’s where later.”

Jim looked around. Although the buildings themselves were imposing, the dormitory was austere and unwelcoming, nothing like the ones at Hartswood; it reminded him of his own prep school days. Lewis-Marshall showed them the showers and toilets in equally perfunctory fashion before showing Jim to the guest bedroom. Jim was becoming increasingly irritated. The boy was not making the slightest attempt to be friendly; in fact he was off-hand to the point of being rude.

They returned to the common room where Tristan was flitting about.

“You can sit over there,” Lewis-Marshall said with a wave of the arm, indicating an area in the far corner before going back to join his friends.

A moment later, he went over to the Hartswood boys, wrote down everyone’s name then went back again. Jim stood and observed. All the Fraylsham Park boys addressed each other by surname, just as they had when he was at school; it seemed terribly old-fashioned. Tristan came to join him.

Your captain is not the most engaging young man I’ve ever met,” Jim commented.

“I think the word you’re looking for is obnoxious,” Tristan responded.

“So why did you make him captain?” Jim enquired. “He didn’t even seem to do that particularly well.”

“You are talking about the Honorable Pelham George Frederick Lewis-Marshall, heir to the Marquis of Bedford,” Tristan told him. “That does count for rather a lot round here.”

“Hmmm, I guess it would,” Jim said, beginning to feel rather uneasy.

A short while later, they headed off for supper. Lewis-Marshall was sitting with the same group of boys that he’d been with in the common room. One of them caught Jim’s attention, tall and slim, with his hair so short it was hard to see it.

Who is that?” Jim enquired.

“Andreas Fenner-Kreisburg,” Tristan said, “although we don’t usually bother with the Kreisburg bit. His father is senior partner at Fenner Kresiburg the London stockbrokers, founded back in the seventeen nineties I believe. The Kreisburgs were bankers from Hanover; one of the family came here with George I back in 1714. Originally there were the two families involved in the business, the Fenners and the Kreisburgs, until Andreas’ grandfather hit on the bright idea of joining them together in holy matrimony. The results you see before you, even more obnoxious than Lewis-Marshall, if that’s possible. They’re filthy rich, of course; make our family look like paupers.”

“So what makes him particularly obnoxious?” Jim enquired.

“Oh, he has political views that a liberal like you would find quite unacceptable,” Tristan explained. “Supports the white regimes in Rhodesia and South Africa, believes the assassination of Martin Luther-King was justified, has ambitions to take over the National Front, and ‘succeed where Oswald Mosley failed’.”

“Sounds charming,” Jim commented. “I guess that explains the skinhead haircut.”

“Oh, probably,” Tristan conceded.

“You’ll need to make sure that he’s not in the same dorm as Alex Pienaar,” Jim said. “Alex’s family had to leave South Africa for speaking out against the apartheid regime.”

“Oh, Fenner would have field day with that,” Tristan said, “regard him as a traitor to the cause of white supremacy. Leave it with me; I’ll deal with it.” He leaned forwards.“Those four are our ‘untouchables’,” he said quietly. “They can do more or less what they like, within limits of course.”

“So who are the other two?” Jim enquired,

“The smaller one with the freckles and messy hair is Jeffrey Thornton, son of Sir Peter Thornton; they farm about two and half thousand acres up near Saffron Walden. Dull as ditchwater; only survives in that company because he does whatever Lewis-Marshall tells him to do. The other one’s Greville Stark; his mother’s the younger daughter of Viscount Amersham. They’ve got a place out near Colchester. Not a bad lad, fairly bright and a talented artist. He might make something of himself; I don’t hold out much hope for the other three.”

“Won’t Fenner be expected to go into the business?” Jim enquired.

Oh yes,” Tristan said, “but he won’t actually have to do anything; they have people to do all that for them, the sort of people that send their sons to your place. The extent of the family’s involvement is making sure that nobody’s got their fingers in the till.” He sat back and smiled. “I hope you don’t think too badly of us,” he said quietly. “Most of the boys here are very pleasant. We just have a few whose status allows them to rather dominate things; that’s just the way it is.”

Supper over, they returned to the common room. Tristan went to speak to the ‘untouchables’. Words were exchanged. Lewis-Marshall didn’t look at all happy. More words were said. Eventually Tristan strolled back across to Jim. Lewis-Marshall, list in hand, went over to the Hartswood boys, had a word with Lee then went back again.

“Well that’s sorted out,” Tristan said quietly, beaming at Jim. “They weren’t too happy at having to alter their arrangements, even less happy that I wouldn’t give them a reason for it, but they bowed to the inevitable.” He paused. “Ridiculous as it may sound,” he continued, “my word does carry a lot of weight here simply because of who I am, or to be more exact, who my father is. So anyway, Pienaar is to be swapped with, er . . , Sheldon is it?”

Jim nodded. “So you let them decide on the sleeping arrangements?” he queried.

“Perks of the job, dear boy,” Tristan said, shrugging.

Jim’s worst fears had been confirmed. He’d managed to extricate Alex, but Kingsley would still be there. It felt like he was throwing the boy to the wolves, but without causing a scene there was nothing he could do.

The evening meandered on. Not one of the Fraylsham Park boys made any attempt to chat to the Hartswood team, not even those who weren’t part of Lewis-Marshall’s little clique. The two schools were so different, Jim reflected. The parents of the boys at Hartswood were, without exception, people who had worked hard and done well for themselves. Overwhelmingly, they expected their boys to do the same. Hartswood fostered a culture of achievement and excellence to meet those expectations. There was none of that at Fraylsham Park. In the main, the parents of these boys hadn’t had to work for their wealth and privileged lifestyle; they’d been born into it. The parents didn’t have to work and the boys weren’t expected to either.

Tristan checked his watch. “Right gentlemen!” he announced. “It’s nine o’clock. Rugby squads remain here; the rest of you upstairs to bed. I’ll be there shortly, so I don’t want to find any fooling around going on.”

Boys trooped out, leaving the two rugby teams behind. Jim surveyed the remaining Fraylsham Park contingent. There were a few very cute ones, most especially a slim, long-legged boy with smooth blond hair. He’d certainly be aiming to get to know that young man before the night was out.

“I see you’ve got your eyes on Barr,” Tristan whispered. “Very sweet; he’s only been here since Christmas. Lewis-Marshall has pretty much kept him to himself up to now, but tonight, well, he couldn’t have the cake and halfpenny, now could he?

Jim grinned but didn’t say anything.

“The one next to him is Stallard,” Tristan continued, referring to a smallish boy with brown hair down over his ears. “School slut, been taking it since he was nine. I hate to think of the number of boys he’s been with.”

“What about the long haired boy?” Jim enquired.

“McKenzie,” Tristan told him. “Nice lad, big cock; well bigger than you’d think.”

“So which one’s your boy?” Jim asked.

“Fielding, the other blond one,” Tristan told him.

Jim quickly identified him. He was certainly cute but looked rather soft.

“I don’t remember him from the tournament,” he commented.

“You wouldn’t,” Tristan said. “He does his playing elsewhere.”

“Proctor is my boy,” Jim said, “the tall blond one; very nice. You’ll also find McIntyre and Pienaar very receptive,” he continued, nodding towards Gavin and Alex. “I only found out about Pienaar a few weeks ago when I briefed the lads about coming here. That was a real surprise; I’d always thought he was rather quiet.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Tristan whispered. “I may get round to them later, but Brown’s the one I’ve got my eyes on; very cute!”

Jim sighed; poor Kingsley was going to have a hard night.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Lewis-Marshall led the way to the dorm where the Hartswood team had left their bags.

“Brown, McIntyre, Palmer and Sheldon will be in here,” he declared, “the rest of you in the one next door.”

The remaining boys picked up their bags. Chris led the way to the adjacent dormitory. The other Fraylsham Park boys were already there, starting to get ready for bed. As they trooped out to brush their teeth, Chris called the Hartswood lads together.

They’ve stitched us up,” he said quietly. “Their four biggest lads are next door with our four smallest; it’s obvious what’s going to be going on. Well we can play that game. As soon as their guy turns the lights out and disappears, we move on them, okay? I’ve brought a torch, give us enough light to see what we’re doing. If we want to even up the score we’ve got to do this right. I’ll take their biggest lad, Armitage; Mark, I want you to go with the long haired kid, McKenzie I think his name is. Cliff, you go with Sherwood, the non-descript looking one; Evan, you take Stallard, the small one and Alex you go with Barr, the skinny blond kid. And don’t take no for an answer. That’s their dorm; this one’s ours, we’re in charge in here. We’ve got to make sure they know that. What happens afterwards happens.”

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The boys were all lying in their beds when Mr. Kirby turned out the lights. Blake Armitage settled down in bed. There was no rush. The Hartswood boys were completely new to this; they wouldn’t be going anywhere. He’d wait until the man was safely ensconced in his apartment then move in on Pienaar, the cute South African boy. It was a serious miscalculation; after barely twenty seconds a torch was turned on; the Hartswood lads were on the move. Before he had time to react, he had someone in bed with him.

“I thought I’d come a get to know you a bit better,” a voice growled.

It was Barnett, there was nobody else with a voice deep enough. That was the last thing he’d expected. He’d thought that the Hartswood captain would make straight for Barr or possibly Stallard; that was what Lewis-Marshall would have done. The boy was tugging at his underpants, pulling them down around his thighs.

“Nice cock!” Barnett commented, before scooting down and taking it into his mouth.

That was an even bigger surprise; Lewis-Marshall definitely wouldn’t have done that! It felt wonderful. He stroked Barnett’s hair, urging him to continue. A hand was pushed between his legs; moments later a greasy finger was inserted into his anus. He didn’t know what Barnett was using; it wasn’t Vaseline, something better, more slippery. A second finger pushed in behind it. It was clear what was going to happen; Barnett was going to fuck him. He didn’t get fucked very often. Thornton fucked him occasionally when they were in their regular dorm, more to remind him of the pecking order than anything else; Thornton was part of Lewis-Marshall’s inner circle; he wasn’t.

Since beginning Upper Fourth he’d usually been a top. He didn’t have a regular boy, but he could usually find a younger lad when he wanted one. Just a few days previously he’d met third year boy Langton-Smith by the swimming pool, waiting for a lesson. He’d taken him into one of the adjacent toilet stalls, pulled down the boy’s skimpy little swimming trunks and fucked him senseless. Langton-Smith had co-operated willingly enough, bending over the toilet bowl without even being asked, not that it had made much difference; he’d have fucked the kid anyway.

And when all else failed, there was always Fairhurst, another of his dorm mates. Fairhurst suffered for being small for his age; at four feet ten and very slim, with a cute little boy’s penis, he looked more like eleven rather than just turned thirteen. So whenever one of the bigger boys in the dorm needed a fuck, they would make their way to Fairhurst’s bed. Whether he welcomed these nocturnal visits wasn’t clear; he simply accepted them as an occupational necessity. Then again, he didn’t have much choice.

Armitage reached out, wrapping his fingers around the Hartswood captain’s penis. It was a little longer than Thornton’s and much thicker. Resistance was futile; he knew that. Barnett was too big and far too strong. They’d planned this; he realised. Barnett was with him because the Hartswood captain was the only one big enough to be certain of fucking him. From where he was he couldn’t see much, but he suspected that all the Hartswood boys had done the same thing.

His underpants were pulled right off. The pillow was placed in the middle of the bed. Barnett rolled him over so that he was lying on his tummy, the pillow under his hips. His legs were pulled apart. The Hartswood captain got down on top of him, the big lad’s penis probing his ring. It thrust inside. He gasped in pain. Slowly and insistently it advanced into him, stretching him almost to breaking point. All he could do was try to relax and make it as easy as possible. Within half a minute it was all the way in, Barnett’s pubic hair scrunched up against his bottom.

Barnett began to fuck. Very gradually the pain ebbed away, masked by the feelings of pleasure produced by the big lad’s penis thrusting repeatedly over his sex-button. To his surprise he found he was getting close, the tingling in his penis increasing by the second. He shuddered, his fingers clawing at the bed. In the next instant his penis sprang into action, his watery boy-cum squirting onto the pillow. Barnett was still going, thrusting into him relentlessly, the boy’s warm breath flooding his nostrils. He heard him grunt. A moment later the big lad’s semen flooded into his rectum.

After several seconds, Barnett carefully withdrew.

“I think you liked that,” he growled. “I know I did.”

He moved away. Armitage eased himself off the bed. He was sore; it had been ages since he’d taken one as big as that. He farted involuntarily, some of Barnett’s semen escaping and trickling down his legs. He was annoyed that he’d ejaculated; it would keep him out of action for half an hour at least.

He looked around. The half light of the torch confirmed his suspicions. Barr was lying face down with Pienaar on top of him, fucking him energetically. Stallard was on all fours, where he always liked to be when he got fucked. Williamson was kneeling behind him, his penis pounding the little slut’s arse. On the other side of the room, Sherwood and McKenzie were lying on their tummies being fucked by Rowe and Burgess. They’d just conceded a five-nil deficit; Lewis-Marshall would not be pleased. He slipped on his underpants, grabbed a towel and headed for the toilets.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Mr. Kirby wished them good night, turned out the lights and closed the door. Kingsley waited in eager anticipation to see what would happen. Almost immediately a torch was turned on; a couple of seconds later somebody was getting into bed with him. It was Lewis-Marshall; he knew it would be.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” the older boy hissed, tugging at Kingsley’s underpants.

Kingsley raised his hips, allowing the older boy to pull them right off. He was expecting them to play around for a while and probably suck each other before any penetration took place; that’s what he and Mark always did. But to his alarm, Lewis-Marshall simply dragged the pillow into the middle of the bed and flipped him over on top of it.

“Right, you little slut,” Lewis-Marshall growled. “I’m going to give you what you came here for.”

Some sticky goo was applied to his anus, Vaseline he later discovered, not the slippery KY that the Hartswood boys used. Fingers were inserted and quickly withdrawn. Before he had chance to protest, Lewis-Marshall was down on top of him, the older boy’s stiff penis being forced through his sphincter. He squealed in pain, only for Lewis-Marshall to pick up his discarded underpants and stuff them into his mouth.

“Shut up!” the older boy barked. “You’re our little bum-boy and you’ll do as we say!”

Lewis-Marshall fucked him hard, pressing his full weight right on top of him. Even though his penis was no bigger than Mark’s it was very painful.

“Here it comes!” the older boy gasped, his breathing harsh and uneven. “Take it, slut!!”

Kingsley was aware of the lad’s penis jerking inside him, a few little jets of teen-cum being deposited in his rectum. A few seconds later it was quickly pulled out.

“I hope you like having it up your bum,” Lewis-Marshall growled in his ear. “You’re going to be getting a lot more of that before we’ve finished with you!”

Kingsley was frightened and confused. He’d been perfectly willing to have sex with them. They wouldn’t have had to force him to do it, so why was he being treated like this? Mark was as tough as anybody, but he was always really gentle when they had sex, always made sure he had a good time. The older boys at Hartswood all treated their younger friends well. He’d expected these boys to do the same; instead he was being treated like he didn’t matter. It was as though Lewis-Marshall wanted to hurt him, to humiliate him; it didn’t make sense.

It had all gone badly wrong. Sex with Mark was wonderful; he enjoyed every second of it. Having sex with Lewis-Marshall was horrible, and he knew deep down that the older boy’s friends would be no different. But he was a fighter; that’s why he was in the rugby team. He wasn’t going to cry; he’d get through it somehow. If things got too bad he’d escape; go next door and fetch Mark; he’d sort it out.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Darren followed Mr. Kirby to his apartment. It was nothing special, he noted, the furnishing surprisingly basic. He was nervous. Mr. Cooper was the only adult he’d been with, really the only one he’d wanted to go with. Mr. Kirby seemed okay, just like Mr. Cooper had said, but he was still unsure; the man wasn’t as good looking as Mr. Cooper, not in as good shape either.

“Well, Proctor,” Mr. Kirby intoned, “so you’re Mr. Cooper’s boy, are you?”

“Yes sir,” Darren confirmed.

The man spoke in a very posh voice, like Mr. Burnham, the music master at Hartswood. Mr Burnham liked boys. Darren wondered if all men who spoke in that sort of voice liked boys. Mr Kirby started to undress him. He wasn’t rough, but he wasn’t gentle and sensuous like Mr. Cooper. In less than a minute he was stark naked.

“You did very well today,” the man commented, beginning to remove his own clothes. “Played in every match, didn’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Darren confirmed. “Alex and I work together all the time.”

“Alex?” Mr. Kirby queried. “That’s Pienaar, isn’t it?”

“Yes sir,” Darren agreed.

He thought it odd that the boys were addressed by surnames only, but that was just how they did things at this school. In short order Mr Kirby was naked too, his penis fully erect. It was almost exactly the same size as Mr. Cooper’s, Darren noted. Although not bad looking, the man definitely didn’t have as good a body as his games master.

“So Mr. Cooper puts his dick up your bum, does he?” Mr. Kirby asked.

“Yes sir,” Darren admitted.

“And do you like that?” Mr Kirby persisted.

“Yes sir,” Darren repeated.

“Come on then!” the man said briskly, pulling a pillow into the middle of the bed and turning him over on top of it.

A well-lubed finger was pushed into Darren’s bottom. The boy was disappointed. He really enjoyed the foreplay that he and Mr. Cooper engaged in, especially when they went to the flat on Sunday mornings, but it appeared that the man was going to fuck him straight off. His fears were confirmed when a second finger joined the first. It wasn’t that he didn’t like being fucked; it was just that the build up made it so much more enjoyable.

After a minute or so the fingers slid out, and sure enough the man lowered himself onto him. He thrust hard, penetrating the lad, pushing relentlessly until his penis was completely buried in the boy’s bottom.

“You’ve got a beautiful little bum,” Mr Kirby commented, “lovely and tight!”

Darren didn’t respond, unable to think of anything to say. Mr. Kirby began to fuck. Darren couldn’t work it out. The man was doing a good job, fucking him almost as well as Mr. Cooper did; he just couldn’t understand why he was in such a hurry. A short time later he unloaded up Darren’s bum. Less than ten minutes after they’d arrived at the apartment it was all over.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

As soon as the torch came on, Fenner made directly for McIntyre’s bed. He’d got a score to settle; during the rugby match the kid had made him look like an idiot, selling him a dummy then stepping smartly the other way, leaving him tackling thin air. Worse still, the kid had run on and scored under the posts. It was time to get his revenge. He grabbed the skinny boy’s legs flipping him onto his tummy. He was surprised to find the lad was wearing gym shorts. He pulled them off. He coated his index finger with Vaseline then shoved it into the kid’s anus.

“Ooooh!” McIntyre gasped.

He pulled it out. Gavin responded by getting onto all fours, his bottom pushed right back, his head and shoulders down on the bed. Fenner slammed his penis right into him.

“Oh, yeah!” Gavin groaned; “Do it man!”

Fenner complied without hesitation, fucking the kid like it was going out of fashion.

“Ohhh! Gavin sighed. “Oh yeah!”

Fenner was confused and annoyed. He was fucking the kid as hard as he knew how; McIntyre was simply lapping it up. He forced the boy down onto his tummy, slamming into him even harder. Within seconds, Gavin’s body was wracked by wild convulsions. His penis swelled and jerked, little jets of watery fluid squirting onto the bed. It took Fenner right over the top, his semen spurting into McIntyre’s bottom.

“Ohhh!! That was good, man!” Gavin breathed.

Fenner quickly pulled out, alleviating his frustration by smacking the kid sharply across the buttocks.

“Oh, fuck!” Gavin exploded.

Fenner was seething. He’d been as rough as he knew how, but the rougher he was, the more the kid liked it. He’d picked the wrong one! McIntyre was an even bigger slut than Stallard!

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Jim ushered Fielding into the guest bedroom.

“I understand you’ve done this sort of thing before,” he said.

“Yes sir; we always do it when a visiting team stops over.”

“Right, first things first,” Jim said briskly. “What’s your first name?”

“Matthew, sir,” the boy said.

“That’s better!” Jim said brightly, putting his arm around the lad’s shoulder. “We call all the boys by their first names at our school. You don’t mind me calling you Matthew, do you?”

“No, of course not, sir,” Matthew said, smiling up at him.

Jim carefully removed Matthew’s school tie, then helped him off with his sweater. He slowly unbuttoned the boy’s shirt, easing it out of his shorts and slipping it off his arms. He ran his hands over Matthew’s back then sat on the bed, reaching out to stroke the boy’s silky-smooth thighs. Matthew was not quite as slim as the boys he usually went with, but he was very cute for all that. He ran his hand over the front of Matthew’s shorts, pausing briefly to fondle the boy’s throbbing erection.

He continued upwards, opening the top of Matthew’s shorts and pulling down the zip. He smiled to himself. Gavin’s shorts would have fallen down immediately; Matthew’s stayed right where they were. He put his fingers inside the waistband, running them around to the back and over the boy’s well-rounded bottom, easing the shorts down over the lad’s hips. They fell to the floor. The boy’s underpants were bright red, an anomaly Jim considered; one concession to modernity that the Fraylsham Park boys were allowed that the Hartswood boys weren’t.

He ran his fingers over Matthew’s hard little spike, then hooked his thumbs into the waistband and gently pulled them down. And there it was, the boy’s most prized asset, a slim, uncut four inches, the tip just barely poking out of the foreskin, a pair of well-rounded balls beneath. There was not a trace of hair on him.

“Very nice!” he breathed. “Can you cum yet?”

“No sir,” Matthew informed him.

He leaned forwards, taking it into his mouth, sucking it steadily, easing back the boy’s foreskin and working his tongue all over the small, shiny head. The taste and texture were sheer perfection. He placed his hand just below Matthew’s balls, reaching back to stroke the lad’s perineum.

“Oooh, Oooh!!” Matthew gurgled. “Ohhh!!”

After thirty seconds Jim pulled away.

“Did you like that?” he asked, smiling.

“Oh yes sir!” Matthew responded eagerly. “Mr Kirby never does that!”

That was no surprise; Tristan had never been one for preliminaries.

“I guess he just fucks you,” Jim suggested.

“Yes sir,” Matthew agreed. “Are you going to fuck me, sir?”

“In time,” Jim said languidly. “There’s no rush. Is that what the other visiting masters do?”

“Yes sir,” Matthew said.

That was no surprise either, given the circles that Tristan moved in, but he was going to do better.

“Get on the bed,” he said quietly.

He lay on his side, drawing Matthew towards him. The boy seemed nervous, wooden.

“Just relax,” he whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Very gently he pulled the boy closer, pushing his lips onto Matthew’s. The lad was still very tense. He pulled away.

“Open your mouth when I kiss you,” he said softly.

Their lips met for a second time. For a moment it was just as before, but suddenly Matthew melted into his arms, the boy’s tongue pushing forwards into his mouth, becoming intertwined with his own. Matthew snuggled even closer, kissing passionately. Jim’s ran his hands down Matthew’s back and over his bottom, the boy’s erection thrusting against his stomach. After several minutes, he eased himself away.

“So how was that?” he enquired.

“Fantastic!” Matthew breathed, his eyes sparkling. “I love you sir! You’re the best!”

Jim grinned, remembering Duncan saying that to him more than seven years previously; he could hardly have been happier.

“Hmmm!” he said playfully, fondling the boy’s penis. “Well right now I want some more of that!

He scooted down, resting his head on Matthew’s tummy. He slid his lips over the boy’s penis, pushing right down to the base, his tongue flicking out to slash at the lad’s balls. Mathew stroked his hair, urging him on. He pulled the boy’s knees apart to give him better access. He squeezed some KY onto his fingers, locating the boy’s anus and pushing inside. There was no resistance, not that he’d expected any, Matthew gurgling quietly as he floated away to planet ecstasy.

Jim pushed in a second finger, driving both fingers in as deep as he could. He touched the boy’s prostate.

“Ohhh!” Matthew moaned, his penis twitching delightfully.

Jim pulled away licking his lips. They snuggled up again.

“Would you like to suck mine?” he asked quietly, licking Matthew’s nose.

“If you want, sir!” Matthew responded.

“Have you done it before?” Jim enquired.

“Once or twice, sir,” Matthew told him.

“Well, just watch your teeth, okay?” Jim instructed. “And don’t try to get down too far; just do what you’re comfortable with.”

Matthew twisted around, settling his head on Jim’s tummy. He held the man’s penis around the base, nervously moving his mouth towards it. He stuck out his tongue, licking the large purple head.

“Mmmmm!” Jim cooed.

Matthew placed his lips over Jim’s penis, pushing slowly down until he had around two and half inches in his mouth. He took a deep breath and began to suck.

“Good boy!” Jim breathed, stroking Matthew’s smooth blond hair.

In a strange way the boy’s lack of experience made it even better; the sensations were indescribable. Jim felt himself getting close.

“You’d better stop now,” he said quietly.

Matthew knelt up, grinning and licking his lips.

“Was that okay, sir?” he asked.

“That was excellent,” Jim assured him.

He drew the boy into another passionate kiss, cocking Matthew’s left leg over his own and working more KY into the boy’s anus. The job completed, he let the fingers slide out.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” Matthew enquired.

“Yes, if you’re ready,” Jim said gently.

“Yes sir,” Matthew confirmed. “How d’you want me?”

“How d’you like it best?” Jim asked.

“I don’t mind, sir,” Matthew said.

“Okay,” Jim said, pulling a pillow into the middle of the bed. “Get on your tummy.”

Matthew rolled over, the pillow under his hips, his legs spread apart. He was used to this; he’d been fucked in this position more times than he could count. Jim knelt between the lad’s knees, smearing KY over his penis as he admired the boy’s muscular thighs and well-rounded bottom. He carefully lowered himself into position, guiding it right onto the boy’s sphincter. With one determined thrust he was inside. He paused for a moment then resumed pushing, slowly driving his penis deeper into Matthew’s rectum until the boy was completely impaled. He settled himself, resting on his forearms.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” Matthew responded.

He began to thrust, gradually building up the pace, fucking the boy relentlessly. Beneath him, Matthew moaned and whimpered. Mr. Cooper wasn’t fucking him any different from the way Mr. Kirby did it, but all the playing around they’d done beforehand had got him so hot, it felt better, much better, the sensations of pleasure transporting him to places he’d never even dreamed of, the tingling in his penis driving him almost insane. His chest tightened, his breathing becoming short and uneven, his head swimming. The muscle spasms swept over him, his sphincter grabbing at the man’s thrusting pole. A moment later his penis came to life, swelling and jerking against the pillow.

Jim was still going, but not for long. With one final thrust he completely impaled the boy, his semen spurting over and over into the lad’s cute little bottom. Slowly and carefully he withdrew, rolling off onto his back. He lifted Matthew up, bringing the boy over on top of him, their lips meeting in a delicious, sensuous kiss.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Chris lay on his bed, watching intently, his eyes trained on Barr and Alex. In other circumstances, Barr’s bed would have been his first port of call. After what seemed like an eternity, his team-mate twitched violently, caught in the throes of a powerful orgasm. There was another pause. Eventually, Alex lifted himself clear, giving the blond boy a peck on the cheek before clambering into his own bed a few feet away.

Chris was about to make a move, but almost immediately Barr sat up, slipped on his underpants and headed out of the dorm; going to the toilet, Chris assumed. He waited patiently. A few minutes later Barr reappeared, climbing straight back into bed. It was time to go. Chris picked up his tube of KY then walked noiselessly across the dorm, sliding in next to the slender blond boy.

“Hi, I’m Chris,” he said gently. “What’s your name?”

“Jocelyn,” the boy told him. “You’ve just been with Armitage, haven’t you?”

“Duty called, I’m afraid,” he said quietly. “Had to make sure you boys knew whose dorm this was.”

“You mean your boys have all just bummed one of ours?” Jocelyn enquired, stifling a giggle.

“Pretty much,” Chris admitted. “We needed to even things up with what’s going on next door.”

“That’s funny!” Jocelyn said. “You’re right though; Lewis-Marshall’s horrible. You know the really cute kid from your team, Brown is it? They were going to give him a really hard time; I heard them talking about it. I know what that means; they’ve done it to me.”

“Bastard!” Chris whispered vehemently. “If Mark finds out he’ll kill him.”

“Which one’s Mark?” Jocelyn asked.

“Burgess, short fair hair,” Chris explained. “He’s Kingsley’s older friend; that’s Kingsley Brown.”

“Well I hope he does find out,” Jocelyn said.

“You’re a good kid,” Chris told him.

Jocelyn reached out wrapping his fingers around Chris’s penis. It stiffened rapidly, becoming fully hard in an instant.

“Wow!” Jocelyn breathed. “You’ve got a big one haven’t you? I’m glad none of that lot has got one as big as yours!”

Chris snuggled closer, running his hand over Jocelyn’s back, so smooth, so delicate so perfect, like a piece of the finest porcelain. He ran his fingers through Jocelyn’s silky smooth hair, taking in lungfuls of the boy’s aroma. He was completely captivated. In the weeks preceding the tournament he’d fantasised several times about what might happen; he’d never dared to dream he’d meet someone like Jocelyn. He reached down, tugging gently at the lad’s underpants, Jocelyn raising his hips to assist in the task of removing them. Chris ran his hand over the boy’s penis, small and wonderfully hard; perfect, just like the rest of him. Very gently, he moved his lips towards Jocelyn’s. The blond boy responded instantly, their mouths meeting in a delicate, sensuous kiss.

“You do that beautifully,” Chris breathed as their lips eventually parted.

“Alex showed me,” Jocelyn said brightly. “I’d never done it before.”

“You’re incredible!” Chris whispered.

He rolled onto his back, pulling Jocelyn over on top of him, the blond boy’s penis grinding against his stomach. He ran his hands down Jocelyn’s back and onto his bottom, sliding his index finger down the boy’s crack. He located Jocelyn’s anus. It was extremely tight.

“Are you going to bum me?” Jocelyn asked.

“I’d love to, but I’m afraid I might hurt you,” Chris responded a little sadly, words he’d never thought he’d say.

It was true though. When he’d become Daniel’s older friend some eighteen months previously he’d been much smaller. As he’d grown, Daniel had adjusted quite naturally to accommodate him. Now he was faced with penetrating the pencil-slim Jocelyn; not hurting him would be all but impossible.

“You can do it if you want,” Jocelyn insisted.

“We’ll try it,” Chris said soothingly. “If it’s hurting too much, I’ll stop, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jocelyn agreed.

“But right now there’s something else I want,” Chris announced.

He slid down the bed, taking Jocelyn’s penis into his mouth. He sucked it eagerly, savouring its throbbing hardness. It was small, even smaller than Daniel’s had been when they’d first begun going together. He opened his mouth wide, sucking in Jocelyn’s marble-sized balls, weighing them on his tongue, the boy’s genitals filling his mouth. Jocelyn moaned and squirmed, hardly knowing where he was, overwhelmed by the wonderful new sensations that the Hartswood captain was giving him.

Chris squeezed some KY onto his fingers. He slipped his hand between Jocelyn’s legs, quickly homing in on the boy’s puckered entrance. Very gently he pushed inside. Jocelyn’s sphincter gripped his finger like a vice; he didn’t remember Daniel ever being as tight as that. It merely confirmed what he already knew; fucking the boy without hurting him was not within the realms of possibility.

He continued nonetheless; he had to be able to say he’d tried his best. Very slowly, Jocelyn relaxed. Chris pushed in further, his finger touching the lad’s prostate, Jocelyn’s penis twitching sharply. For the next minute he slowly finger-fucked the boy, wondering how Jocelyn could possibly accommodate anything much larger. He inserted a second finger. Jocelyn winced, his anus trying to repel the new invader. Eventually he relaxed, allowing Chris to make further progress. He touched Jocelyn’s prostate again, the boy’s penis reacting much as it had before. Very carefully he twisted his fingers around, gently opening Jocelyn’s sphincter. There was nothing more he could do. He took his mouth from the boy’s genitals and allowed his fingers to slide slowly out.

Jocelyn grabbed the pillow and placed it in the middle of the bed, rolling onto his tummy without even being asked. Chris lubed up his penis then lowered himself into position. He was harder than he’d ever been, but it still wasn’t going to work; Jocelyn would scream the place down when it went into him. He pushed firmly. There was no movement at all. He tried again, pushing a little harder. Suddenly Jocelyn’s sphincter gave way and he was inside. Jocelyn winced sharply but emitted barely a squeak.

“Shall I take it out?” Chris whispered.

“No!” Jocelyn hissed, his voice betraying how much pain he was in. “Just stay where you are! Don’t put any more in till I tell you.”

Chris complied, remaining completely still, supporting his weight on the palms of his hands. At last Jocelyn began to relax.

“You can push some more in now,” the boy whispered, his breathing still short and shallow.

Very gently Chris pushed down, his penis sinking slowly into Jocelyn’s rectum. Finally he came to a halt, his tummy pressed tight against the blond lad’s bottom. He could hardly believe he’d managed it.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah!” Jocelyn confirmed.

Chris took a deep breath and began to fuck. At first he kept it slow, the strokes fairly short. Gradually he built it up, his thrusts becoming longer, more powerful, fucking the boy harder, deeper, faster. Beneath him Jocelyn moaned and whimpered, the thrusts of the older boy’s penis over his prostate taking him to heights of pleasure he’d never even dreamed of. Suddenly he gasped, his body gripped by a shuddering climax, his hard little prong swelling and jiggling against the pillow. Chris had gone right over the edge.

“Oh fuck!” he groaned. “I’m gonna cum!!”

He held on tight, his semen flooding into Jocelyn’s rectum as though it was never going to stop. Finally it was over. He sank right down, his heart pounding against Jocelyn’s back, his head swimming. It had been a mind-blowing experience. He loved Daniel to bits, but sex with Daniel had never once been as intense as that. Eventually his breathing began to slow. Very carefully he eased himself clear.

“Are you okay?” he asked, still breathing hard. “Fuck! That was unbelievable!”

“Mmmmm!!” Jocelyn confirmed, rolling onto his side, his eyes sparkling. “That was amazing! You made my thing jump about; it’s never done that before!” He paused for a moment. “Sorry, I need the toilet,” he concluded.

He got off the bed and headed out of the dorm, walking a little awkwardly. A few minutes later he returned, getting back into bed and snuggling right up again.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Chris enquired.

“Well, my bum’s a bit sore,” Jocelyn conceded, “but that won’t kill me, will it?” he added brightly, giving Chris the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

Chris wrapped his arms around Jocelyn’s back, marvelling at his good fortune. Jocelyn was without doubt the most beautiful, amazing, sexy kid ever, and he hadn’t just met him; he’d fucked him senseless. Things couldn’t get much better than that.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

After a short rest, Tristan took Darren to the dorm where Lewis-Marshall was. He looked around. Lewis-Marshall was lying on top of Palmer, fucking him remorselessly. Sheldon was on his back, his legs over Fenner’s shoulders, the skinhead boy’s penis pounding into his bottom. McIntyre was down on all fours, being fucked by Stark, with Thornton was urging his friend on, obviously keen to take his place.

It seemed that they’d already finished with Brown, for the time being at least. They’d have taken turns on him; it was what they always did. Lewis-Marshall would have gone first, of course, while Stark and Thornton waited their turn. Fenner, on the other hand, would have fucked one of the other boys while he was waiting. Tristan knelt down by Brown’s bed.

“I want you to come to my apartment,” he said firmly.

Kingsley shrugged and got out of bed. It wasn’t that he wanted to go with the man, but it couldn’t be worse than staying with these savages. Leaving Darren to his fate, Tristan strode purposefully along the corridor, Kingsley walking silently alongside. Reaching the apartment he ushered the boy inside, directing him straight to his bedroom.

Finally he was able to get a proper look at the boy. He was very cute, certainly, but the eager smile he’d noticed earlier was gone. Brown looked apprehensive, resentful, as though there under protest.

“Well, Brown,” Tristan intoned. “Are you all right?”

“Sir,” Kingsley returned curtly, not even looking at the man.

“Would I be right in thinking that Lewis-Marshall and his associates treated you rather more roughly than you’re used to?”

“Sir, Tristan admitted, shrugging slightly. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to have sex with them; I did,” he continued, “But they were horrible.”

“How were they horrible?” Tristan probed.

“I’ve only ever been with Mark before,” Kingsley explained.

“Mark?” Tristan interjected.

Burgess, sir,” Kingsley said. “He’s always really nice to me, you know, very gentle when he puts his dick up me. They weren’t. They called me a slut and said I had to do whatever they said. And they weren’t gentle at all; it was almost like they wanted to hurt me.”

Tristan sighed. They were only doing what boys at the top of the school had always done, but Lewis-Marshall and Fenner invested the business with an element of venom, seemingly intent on making the younger boy’s experience as unpleasant as possible. All such gangs ruled by fear to some extent; there was nothing new in that, but Lewis-Marshall was exceptionally and quite unnecessarily vicious. On the other hand, it appeared that Brown had been allowed a very cosseted existence. Having only experienced a single and very considerate sex-partner, being plunged into the maelstrom of a far more traditional prep school was bound to be a shock.

“I need to take a look at it,” Tristan cooed. “Bend over there for me.”

Kingsley complied with an air of resignation, resting his hands on the bedside cabinet. Tristan knelt down behind, easing down the boy’s soiled underpants before pulling them off over his feet. Naked, Brown was every bit as desirable as he’d imagined. He ran his hands up the back of the boy’s thighs and onto his shapely bottom, using his thumbs to prise the lad’s cheeks apart. Brown’s anus was bruised, the area to either side severely chafed, a little semen still seeping out. The boy was right, he concluded. He wasn’t a virgin and neither Lewis-Marshall not any of this associates was exceptionally large; there should have been no need to get him into that state. At Lewis-Marshall’s instigation, they’d hurt him on purpose.

Tristan leaned forwards his tongue extended. He lapped at the chafed area before homing in on Brown’s sphincter. He licked it insistently, building the pressure. All at once it relaxed, allowing him inside. Kingsley moaned, hardly able to believe the wonderful new sensations the man was giving him, his penis becoming harder by the second. Tristan reached around, sliding his fingers over the boy’s pre-pubescent prong. It was throbbing delightfully.

He pulled back. He picked up the tube of KY, squeezing some onto his fingers. The boys always used Vaseline, one of the more pointless traditions that they insisted on maintaining. He inserted his index finger into Brown’s anus, pushing it steadily inwards until he touched the boy’s prostate.

“Ohhhh!!” Kingsley gasped.

Tristan carefully inserted his middle finger too, moving both fingers around in a scissoring motion to loosen Brown’s sphincter. His task completed, he allowed his fingers to be pushed out. He got to his feet. Dropping his shorts, he smeared a little more KY over his rampant penis. He moved in close, guiding it onto its target. He held the boy around the thighs, penetrating him with a single, powerful thrust.

“Aaaarrrggghhh!!!” Kingsley wailed, his sphincter being stretched to unprecedented dimensions, the searing, stabbing pain so severe he almost blacked out.

For the second time that night, his underpants were stuffed into his mouth.

“Just be quiet, there’s a good chap,” Tristan said calmly. “You knew this was going to happen when you came here, so relax and enjoy it. If I’m not mistaken, right about now Mr. Cooper will be doing exactly the same to young Barr, the slim, blond boy out of my team. He’ll be getting his bottom stretched just like you are.”

Tristan began to fuck, savouring the tightness of Brown’s cute little bottom. He’d been waiting for this moment from the moment he set eyes on the boy and it had finally arrived. Better still, it wasn’t just meeting his expectations; it was exceeding them. Brown was the best fuck he’d had in a long time. Kingsley moaned and whimpered, fighting back the tears, the pain still excruciating. Strangely though, it began to ease, overtaken by the feelings of pleasure as the man’s penis stimulated his sex-button. He knew all about those feelings from all the times that Mark had fucked him, but their intensity far outstripped anything that Mark had been able to give him. Almost in spite of himself, his penis became harder than ever. The man’s fingers wrapped themselves around it.

“Uhhhh!” Kingsley groaned, bucking violently, his legs almost giving way beneath him.

“Good boy!” Tristan cooed, his breathing becoming harsh and ragged. “Oh yes! Yes!!!”

He tightened his grip on Brown’s thighs, depositing rope after rope of warm, creamy semen in the lad’s bottom. For almost half a minute he remained where he was, his breathing gradually returning to normal. Eventually he withdrew.

“Good boy!” he repeated. “Just run along to the bog; we don’t want you making a mess, first door on the right.”

Kingsley straightened up, making his way awkwardly out of the room. Running was out of the question; his bottom felt as though he’d had a red-hot poker up there. He returned several minutes later. Although he was still sore, it was becoming easier. Tristan was already in bed. He motioned for the boy to join him. Kingsley shrugged and complied, slipping on his underpants before getting into bed. It was, he decided, better than being returned to Lewis-Marshall and his cronies. Tristan set the alarm for four o’clock, turned out the bedside light, and fell asleep, his arm around Kingsley’s shoulder.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Armitage sat on the toilet, Barnett’s semen running out of him. The boy had cum loads, far more than Thornton ever did; he’d soiled his briefs just walking the short distance from the dorm. He cleaned up as best he could and made his way to the showers. He had plenty of time; after shooting off on the pillow it would be a while before his balls were ready for further action. He spent ten minutes relaxing under the soothing warm water. Feeling better, he turned off the shower and strolled back into the drying area. Having towelled himself off, he picked up his underpants; they were still damp. He shrugged and pulled them on.

Very quietly, he made his way back into the dorm. The torch was still on. He checked around. Barnett was snuggled up with Barr, although they didn’t seem to be doing much. There were various other couplings in progress, but crucially the South African boy was back in his own bed and not involved. He slipped in next to him. The boy didn’t raise any objection. He tried to turn him onto his tummy, but the lad pulled away from him.

“Hey!” Alex hissed. “Don’t be in so much of a hurry! We’ve got all night!”

Armitage relented; there seemed little point in getting into a fight over it, and in any case the boy was stronger than he looked. To his surprise, the lad snuggled right up to him, the kid’s hard penis pressing against his groin. Alex had noticed Armitage the moment they entered the dorm; with his jet black hair and olive skin, the lad reminded him of some of the mixed-race boys that he’d known in South Africa. There was nobody like that at Hartswood.

“What’s your name?” Alex whispered.


“No, your first name.”


“Hi, I’m Alex.”

“Cool! Did you just fuck Barr?”

“D’you mean Jocelyn?”


“Yeah! Cute little arse!”

“I’ve not been there yet; Lewis-Marshall’s been keeping him to himself.”

“He’s a bastard, isn’t he?” Alex ventured. “That’s what Jocelyn said.”

“Pretty much,” Blake conceded, “but he’s rugby team captain so he can do as he likes.”

“Chris fucked you just now, didn’t he?” Alex said, changing the subject.

“Yeah,” Blake admitted. “Did he plan that? I thought he’d jump straight in with, er . . , Jocelyn.”

“Yeah,” Alex whispered. “He said that the one next door was your dorm; we’d got the make sure this one was ours.”

“Well, you did that all right,” Blake told him. “We’ll never catch that up. He’s got a big cock, man; my arse feels like it’s on fire.”

“Yeah, I know!” Alex whispered, stifling a giggle.

“So has he fucked you then?” Blake asked.

“No,” Alex said. “Daniel’s his boy; Palmer, next door with that lot.”

“Oh, right,” Blake said absently, the idea of the rugby captain having ‘a boy’, rather than fucking any kid that took his fancy being a completely alien concept.

Alex snuggled even closer, his face millimetres from Blake’s.

“Boys don’t kiss,” Blake said.

“We do!” Alex responded, placing his lips firmly on top of Blake’s.

Blake opened his mouth to protest, only for Alex’s tongue to push right inside, the South African boy’s aroma filling his nostrils like some magical sex drug. He was more aroused than he could ever remember, kissing passionately, his tongue wrestling with Alex’s, his hands running all over the smaller boy’s back and down onto his perfect bottom. Finally, their lips parted.

“See!! I told you!” Alex whispered, grinning. “What do you like doing?”

“Fucking mainly,” Blake said. “What about you?”

“I like it both ways,” Alex told him. “D’you suck?”

“I do sometimes,” Blake conceded, grimacing at the memory of the occasions when he’d had to take Thornton’s penis in his mouth before the lad fucked him.

“I do,” Alex said, “I love that too.”

He reached down, wrapping his fingers around Blake’s uncircumcised five inch penis.

“Nice cock!” he breathed.

He scooted round, placing his head on Blake’s tummy. He licked his lips then took the bigger lad’s penis into his mouth, sucking it right down to the base. Blake was in ecstasy. He’d never bothered asking the younger boys he went with to suck him; he’d never realised how good it could feel. Alex snaked around so that his hard prong was inches from Blake’s mouth. Blake hesitated for a second. He didn’t want to do this. But he did want to do it. He took a deep breath and plunged down on it, sucking it hungrily, savouring it, hard and hot in his mouth. Alex sensed that Blake was starting to get close and pulled away.

“D’you want to fuck me now?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Blake confirmed.

“You’ll need to use some of this first,” Alex said, passing him the tube.

“What is it?” Blake queried. “We use Vaseline.”

“KY; Vaseline’s far too greasy,” Alex said dismissively. “This stuff’s much better.”

Blake squeezed some onto his fingers and carefully worked it into Alex’s bottom. The lad was ready; he let his fingers slide out. While Blake smeared some KY over his penis, Alex pulled the pillow into the middle of the bed, rolling over on top of it. Blake lowered himself into position, guiding his penis onto Alex’s twitching sphincter. He thrust it in.

“Ohhh, yeah!” Alex moaned.

Blake continued to push, his penis disappearing into Alex’s rectum until his tummy was pressed tight against the smaller boy’s bottom. Instinctively he began to fuck. Alex moaned with pleasure. He loved being fucked. He loved it when Peter did it in the dorm at Hartswood, but Blake was bigger, stronger and better looking, pretty much his ideal. He was in ecstasy, Blake’s penis thrusting remorselessly into him, the sensations the most perfect he’d ever experienced. His breathing began to shorten. He shuddered wildly; a moment later he ejaculated on the pillow.

For a short while Blake continued to pound into him. There was a sudden gasp. In the next instant Blake’s warm, creamy semen was spurting into his rectum. After several seconds Blake withdrew. The two boys rolled onto their sides, facing each other, gently drawing each other into an affectionate hug, Alex’s head resting on Blake’s chest.

They lay there quietly, not saying a word. Blake was completely overwhelmed; he’d never had sex like it. In just a few short minutes he’d developed feelings for Alex that he would never have believed possible. Alex was incredible, perfect; he wished the young South African could stay with him forever. The build-up and the emotions had made everything so much better than any of his previous experiences. The icing on the cake was that Alex had enjoyed it every bit as much as he had.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Jim woke up with a start. For a moment he was disorientated, struggling to identify the unfamiliar surroundings. Then it came to him; he was in the guest bedroom and Fraylsham Park, the bedside light still on, a sleeping Matthew snuggled up next to him. He checked his watch. It was twenty to one. They must have been asleep for a couple of hours, he calculated; it had, after all, been a long and tiring day.

But he was awake now, and ready for further action. A repeat performance with Matthew would not have been unwelcome, but just along the corridor there were more enticing prospects. Of course, he might get to the dorm only to find Barr busily engaged with one of his boys, McKenzie too, quite possibly, but in that event he could always bring Matthew back again. He roused the boy.

“Just put your underpants on,” he said quietly. “We’re going for a little walk.”

“Are you taking me to the dorm where your bigger boys are?” Matthew asked.

“Yes,” Jim confirmed. “Don’t worry; they’re all quite civilised.”

Jim slipped on a pair of shorts and a polo top. They made their way along the corridor. Jim resisted the temptation to look in on the dorm where Kingsley was, worried about what he might find. He opened the door to the other dorm, ushering Matthew inside. A torch was providing a little illumination. He checked around. There was one coupling in progress; Clifford was definitely fucking somebody although he couldn’t make out who it was. The remaining boys seemed to be asleep, one couple snuggled up together, the others, including Barr, back in their own beds. He was in luck.

He gently roused the slim, blond boy.

“I’d like you to come to my bedroom,” he said quietly.

Jocelyn shook himself awake, swinging himself out of bed. He’d been told about this. He stood up, dressed just in a pair of skimpy white briefs. Jim motioned for Matthew to take his place, ushering Jocelyn out of the room. The boy accompanied him without protest, seeming surprisingly composed. Moments later they were closeted in the privacy of the guest bedroom. Jim pulled off his top and sat on the bed, motioning for Jocelyn to sit next to him. He put his arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“So who have you been with so far?” he enquired.

“Alex and Chris and Mark,” Jocelyn said, not showing a trace of embarrassment.

“That’s good; you’re using their first names,” Jim said appreciatively. “What’s yours?”

“They told me to, sir,” the boy responded. “I’m Jocelyn.”

“Excellent,” Jim said. “And how was it?”

“Good, sir,” Jocelyn said. “They’re all really nice, much nicer than . . .”

“Lewis-Marshall and his cronies?” Jim suggested.

“Yes sir,” Jocelyn agreed.

“I understand Lewis-Marshall has been keeping you to himself,” Jim said.

“He did until last Saturday, sir.”

“So what happened last Saturday?”

“After we’d gone to bed, Lewis-Marshall and Fenner came to our dorm. They made me go with them. They took me to the dorm where they are now. The other two were there as well. They took my underpants off then they . . . .” His voice trailed away. “They took turns on me,” he said, looking at the floor. “It was horrible. Afterwards they wouldn’t even let me go to the toilet. Lewis-Marshall took me back to his dorm. I had to get in bed with him. I was lying on my side with him behind me; he stuck it up me again. When he’d finished he fell asleep with his thing still inside me. When we woke up in the morning he did me again. He got all the other boys in the dorm to watch him do it. Some of them were wanking themselves off while they watched; I could see them. When it was all over he just kicked me out. I had to walk back to my own dorm just in my underpants.”

Jim was incensed. “That’s appalling,” he said firmly. “I hope none of my boys treated you like that.”

“No sir,” Jocelyn assured him. “They were all really nice; really gentle, especially Chris.”

Jim smiled. Chris was a good lad, but he’d never thought of him as being particularly gentle; he certainly wasn’t like that on the rugby pitch.

“Oh, really!” he commented. “I’m pleased to hear that.”

“When he got in bed with me,” Jocelyn continued. “I was really nervous because, well, he’s got a big one, hasn’t he? I hadn’t taken one that big before.”

Jim nodded; Chris could quite easily pass for fifteen and had the penis to go with it.

“Anyway he just snuggled up to me, stroking and cuddling; it felt great,” Jocelyn went on. “He was whispering how cute I was; it was a bit embarrassing really. He’d been with Armitage before me, so I thought he was just taking his time.”

“Armitage?” Jim queried. “Is that the dark-skinned boy?”

“Yeah! Fenner calls him a wog. He’s not; his mother’s Greek. Fenner’s an idiot.”

“Seems an odd choice,” Jim commented. “I thought he’d have gone straight for you.”

“Oh, he did that on purpose,” Jocelyn said. “He wanted to make sure that when it started all your boys were, you know, on top.”

Jim chuckled; Chris was even smarter than he’d thought. He quickly quietened down, listening intently as Jocelyn completed his story.

“Well, I’m pleased you had a good time,” he whispered.

“I wish the older boys here were like that,” Jocelyn commented. “All they want to do is bum us.”

Jim reached across, gently stroking Jocelyn’s slender thighs.

“I understand you’ve only been here since Christmas,” he said quietly. “Where were you before that?”

“Denmark, sir,” Jocelyn said. “Daddy was the ambassador there. I went to the English school in Copenhagen.”

“Oh, I see,” Jim said.

“Anyway, daddy got posted to Brazil,” Jocelyn continued. “He had to go; it’s a really important job. They’ve just built a new capital city, out in the middle of nowhere. Daddy said we couldn’t live there. He said he wouldn’t have taken us even if the capital was still in Rio; it’s too dangerous. So mummy moved back to our house in London and I came here.”

“Don’t you mind the way the boys here have treated you?” Jim asked. “You seem to be taking it remarkably well.”

“There’s not much I can do, is there?” Jocelyn said, shrugging. “It’s not just me; it’s most of the younger kids. That’s how it is here. I wish I was at your school; it seems much better.”

“Why don’t’ you ask if you can move?” Jim suggested. “The son of our ambassador to Mexico is at our school; he’s in Upper Fourth.”

“What’s his name?” Jocelyn enquired.

“Peter Cranham,” Jim said.

“Oh, that must be Sir Hugh Cranham’s son,” Jocelyn remarked. “I’ve met Sir Hugh; daddy knows him quite well.”

“Well, just say to your father that you aren’t very happy here; some of the older boys are picking on you, but you met some boys from our school when we came to the sevens tournament and they were much nicer and much better behaved. They told you that we don’t allow bullying at Hartswood. Mention that Peter goes there; see what he says. It can’t hurt, can it?”

“I’ll do that sir,” Jocelyn said, smiling up at him.

Jim leaned forwards, placing his lips over Jocelyn’s. The boy responded passionately, wrapping his skinny arms around Jim’s neck, his tongue pushing into the games master’s mouth. Jim eased the lad back onto the bed, running his hand down his silk-smooth chest and onto the boy’s throbbing erection. He put his fingers into the waistband of Jocelyn’s briefs, gently tugging at them, Jocelyn lifting his hips off the bed to enable the man to pull them off, exposing his uncut penis, very slim and barely three inches long.

Jim glanced down. Jocelyn was a total delight, absolute perfection, definitely one of the most beautiful boys he’d ever seen. More than that, he was intelligent and perceptive. He’d be a great asset to Hartswood if his father would agree to move him; he was wasted at a backwater like Fraylsham Park. Best of all, Jocelyn was positively eager to have sex with boys who treated him decently; with him as well, or so it seemed. He slid his hand over Jocelyn’s penis, reaching down to tickle the boy’s marble-sized balls. Jocelyn responded by kissing him more passionately than ever.

Jim quickly removed his jockey shorts and lay down on the bed, pulling Jocelyn over on top of him.

“Wow! You’ve got a big one, haven’t you sir?” Jocelyn breathed excitedly, his eyes like saucers. “Are you going to bum me too?”

“I will if you want me to,” Jim responded, knowing full well that he was going to get there.

“Will you do it like Chris and the other boys did?” Jocelyn asked.

“You mean on your tummy?” Jim enquired.

“Yes sir,” Jocelyn confirmed.

“I’d like that very much,” Jim whispered, licking the boy’s ear.

He moved down the bed, leaning across to take Jocelyn’s penis into his mouth, sucking it lovingly. He slipped his hand between Jocelyn’s legs, quickly locating the boy’s sphincter. He pushed inside. Unsurprisingly there was no resistance at all. Having taken Chris’s penis and two others in the previous few hours, the boy was as ready as he was going to be. Jim withdrew his fingers.

“Come on then,” he said gently, releasing the boy’s penis.

He picked up one of the pillows, placing it in the middle of the bed. Jocelyn moved quickly into position, lying there submissively while Jim lubricated himself. Jim looked down. Before him was one of the most beautiful sights he could have dreamed of, Jocelyn’s long, slender legs, and the most delightful bottom imaginable, the boy’s anus and the area around it bearing the marks of earlier penetrations. He lowered himself into position, his penis nuzzling the lad’s sphincter. With one determined thrust, he was inside.

“Yeowww!!” Jocelyn yelped.

Instinctively, Jim grabbed Jocelyn’s underpants and stuffed them in the boy’s mouth. There could be no turning back; there never was.

“Be quiet, there’s a good boy,” he cooed. “We don’t want you frightening the horses. Relax; you’ve done the hard part. I’m going to make you feel really good, just like Chris did.”

Jim pushed his penis slowly but insistently into the Jocelyn’s rectum until the boy was completely impaled. After taking a moment to steady himself, he began to fuck, driving his penis relentlessly into the boy’s anus with long, powerful thrusts. He was in total ecstasy. He had been dreaming of this since he first noticed the lad several hours earlier. His dreams had come to fulfilment, the sensations too wonderful to describe. Beneath him, Jocelyn lay totally submissive, underpants still in his mouth, Jim fucking him even harder. Suddenly Jocelyn began to shudder, his sphincter clamping tight around Jim’s invading penis, his hard spike swelling and jerking against the pillow.

“Good boy!!” Jim breathed. “Oh yes!! Ohhhhh!”

Almost immediately Jim’s orgasm was upon him, the whole room shaking as though hit by a major earthquake. He held Jocelyn’s shoulders as his semen unloaded into the boy’s bottom. After several seconds he carefully withdrew, leaning forward to remove the gag from Jocelyn’s mouth.

“Well done, little one,” he whispered. “You were amazing. Are you okay?”

Jocelyn rolled onto his side, Jim flopping down to face him, their noses almost touching.

“That was incredible!” he gasped. “It hurt like hell when it went up, but afterwards . . . , wow!!” He giggled. “I think my bum’s going to be sore for a week!”

“You’re a great kid!” Jim said, smiling and licking the boy’s nose.

They snuggled up, Jocelyn resting his head on Jim’s chest. In just a few seconds they were both asleep.