So let me explain. This is a story with lots of naughty things in it. That means that if you’re under eighteen, you’re not allowed to read it. Which is all pretty stupid, because if you’ve got this far, you probably know all about these naughty things anyway; you might even be doing them for all I know. But the law’s like that. And there are some places where nobody’s allowed to read it. Yeah, well. So just to let you know, the decision to read it or not is down to you. Neither Nifty nor I take any responsibility for any consequences that might follow from you reading it if you’re not allowed to. Right! That’s got that out of the way!

Well, this is it, folks, the final chapter. After twenty three months hard labour, I’m finally putting Hartswood Priory to bed, for the time being at least. I’d like to thank everyone who has written to me since I began posting it just over a year ago; I am very grateful for all your support and encouragement. And if anyone has any final thoughts or observations, please send them to ; I’ll reply as soon as I can.

Once I’ve had a break, I’m hoping to start work on a new story, which will be something quite different from Hartswood Priory, with a view to posting it sometime next year. But as yet I don’t have anything developed to the point where I could begin writing, so we’ll have to see. Meanwhile, let me wish you all a wonderful Christmas and a happy and prosperous 2010.



Having been so busy with the school cross-country team and everything else that was going on, Mike had neglected his own running. Over the winter he’d trained only sporadically and hardly raced at all. With the Easter holidays just a week away, it was time to put that right. The spring road relays, races he greatly enjoyed, were coming up. He was a key member of the club team and was determined to run well.

Although his slight frame had been unable to cope with running over one hundred miles a week like the top internationals did, the flip side was that he was a ‘natural’ and could get fit very quickly. By the time of the Southern Counties Road Relay Championships he was flying, and played an important part in helping the club retain the title that they’d won the previous year. It was great to feel part of it again.

More than that, it kept him busy during the three week holiday. He didn’t regret having broken up with Claire; it was the right thing to do, but during the holidays he missed having the boys around, Martin especially. Training with his club mates and socialising with them afterwards didn’t completely fill the gap, but it certainly helped.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The start of the summer term coincided with the start of the track season. Mike had already committed himself to turning out for the club in their Southern League matches; in addition he wanted to give some of the boys the opportunity to compete on the track.

“I’m planning on taking the lads to a few track meetings this term,” he explained to Jim Cooper. “Will it be all right to use the minibus?”

“As long as you avoid the days when the cricket team’s playing away, it should be no problem,” Jim told him. “Actually, that’s something I need to do,” he continued. “William will be competing in the Sussex Schools’ Championships in June and he’ll need a few warm-up competitions beforehand. We could work together if you like.”

“That sounds good!” Mike said, smiling. “There’s the Sussex AAA Championships in the middle of May and I’ll sort out a couple of open meetings that we can go to.”

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The first track meeting went well. The age-groups for track & field were different from those for cross-country; the boys in third year and Lower Fourth ran together, but Martin had to compete in the next age group, running against boys a year older than himself. He hung on well to finish seventh in the fifteen hundred metres in a very respectable time of four minutes fifty three seconds.

Most of the younger boys also ran the fifteen hundred, with Evan, who was well suited to track running, finishing second in just inside five minutes, with Patrick and Jamie not too far behind. The exception was John, who opted for the eight hundred, finishing second in a very promising two minutes twenty seven seconds. The boy certainly had potential, just as Mike had suspected.

Jim Cooper’s field event athletes performed well too, with William Lawrence the star of the show. Despite having to compete against boys a year older than himself, he won the high jump with a school record of one metre seventy five, almost an inch over his own head. William was such a quiet, gentle boy, Mike reflected, he seemed positively embarrassed by all the praise the other lads gave him.

As Jim was there to supervise the boys, Mike took the opportunity to run in the final race of the meeting, the senior men’s three thousand metres. Although he’d struggled to compete against top international runners, at this level he was very comfortable, staying close to the front as the laps ticked by. The leading group was gradually whittled down; as the bell sounded there were just three of them left. They raced along the back straight and rounded the final bend, Mike holding his position on the leader’s shoulder, then, turning into the home straight, he streaked away, winning in a time just outside eight minutes.

The boys were awestruck. They hadn’t seen Mike race before and he’d never mentioned his achievements; they simply hadn’t realised how good he was.

“Wow sir!” Martin said, grinning. “I didn’t know you were that good!”

“Oh, not bad, I guess,” Mike said. “That was a nice race.”

“That was fantastic, sir!” John added, his eyes sparkling. “I want to run like that!”

Mike was very struck by John’s comment. The blond lad was a barely average student, quite abrasive and somewhat inclined to be surly, the one boy in the team who had never really engaged with him. That, Mike sensed, was about to change.

“You did well today,” he replied, giving John a big smile, “so keep working at it.”

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

“Sir,” Martin asked, snuggling up to Mike. “Next Sunday can Jamie come here with me, you know, instead of us doing it down in the pavilion?”

“Hmmm,” Mike said, looking lovingly at the naked boy. “You know what happened the last time you brought somebody here with you.”

“Well, it won’t this time, sir, I promise,” Martin assured him. “Jamie knows I’m your boy; he asked if he could come with me, honest! You’ll like Jamie, sir; he’s really sexy.”

“I’d much rather spend the time just with you,” Mike said, hugging the boy closer.

“Oh, come on, sir,” Martin said pleadingly. “Just once then I won’t ask you again, promise!”

“Oh, all right then!” Mike sighed. “Bring him here after training next Sunday. But I don’t want anyone else finding out and it will only be once, understand?”

“Yes sir!” Martin said, grinning. “Are you going to fuck me now?”

“What do you think?” Mike asked, smiling back.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Mike waited apprehensively; he wasn’t really looking forward to it. On the previous occasions that he’d had two boys at the apartment, things had gone wrong. The incident with Patrick hadn’t really been his fault, but he was still annoyed with himself for leaving Dominic so sore. He shouldn’t have fucked the lad. He’d known before he’d started that the boy wasn’t ready to take a penis as large as his, but he’d got carried away.

He’d made up his mind that it wouldn’t happen again. Stuff like that was pretty much the norm when he was at school, but they did things differently at Hartswood. In any case, he was an adult now and these boys were his responsibility; he needed to be more careful. He wouldn’t fuck Jamie if he wasn’t ready for it, even if the lad wanted him to.

The doorbell rang. Mike shepherded the boys into the apartment, Jamie giving him a characteristically cheeky grin. They headed to the bedroom and began to undress each other. Mike had seen Jamie naked on numerous occasions, but hadn’t previously seen him with an erection. The boy’s penis was quite slim, but seemed very long on the small, skinny eleven year old, just over four inches, a little nozzle of foreskin projecting beyond the tip. Mike ran his fingers over it; the lad was hard the way only boys of that age can be.

Jamie took great delight in removing Mike’s jockey shorts.

“You’ve got a nice one, sir!” he said, grinning up at Mike. “Martin said you had.”

They got onto the bed. To his surprise, Mike found himself in the middle, sucking Martin’s penis while Jamie sucked his. The boy was very good; Mike stroked his short fair hair, urging him to continue. Over the next twenty minutes they swapped round several times, everyone sucking everyone else. Finally it was time. Jamie lay on his back pulling his legs up so his knees were by his shoulders. Martin crawled into position, guiding his slicked-up penis onto the Jamie’s pucker. With little apparent effort he thrust it in, Mike watching enraptured as Martin’s penis pistoned in and out of the younger boy’s bottom. The expression on Jamie’s face said it all; he loved it!

“Fuck!” Martin rasped. “I’m gonna cum!”

He speared his whole length into Jamie’s rectum, holding on tight as he unloaded inside his younger friend. After several seconds he slowly withdrew.

“Go on sir,” he said, grinning at Mike. “It’s your turn now!”

“You sure you can take this?” Mike asked, smiling at Jamie.

“Yeah, course!” Jamie said, smirking. “I was keeping Chris happy all through the holidays and he’s pretty big.”

The Barnett boys were a strange couple, Mike reflected. While Jamie was small for his age, his brother Chris, barely a year older, could easily pass for fourteen and had a penis to match.

“Oh, so your brother’s been fucking you, has he?” Mike queried.

“Yeah, every day while we were off school,” Jamie confirmed. “He bums Daniel Palmer when we’re here; Danny loves it! But when we’re at home he has to make do with me.”

“Okay then,” Mike said grinning. Not like that though; I want to do you from behind.”

“Give him a pair of shorts to wear,” Martin suggested.

“I was wondering about that,” Mike said, retrieving one of the smaller pairs from under the bed. He handed them to Jamie. “Here, put these on.”

Jamie shrugged then slipped them on.

“You going to fuck me in these?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Mike confirmed.

“Does he do you like that?” Jamie demanded, turning to Martin.

“Sometimes,” Martin confirmed.

“That’s wild, man!” Jamie said, grinning.

Mike moved the bedside cabinet away from the wall, placing a pillow on top. He positioned Jamie over it, easing the shorts down onto the boy’s hips to give himself more room. He smeared KY over his penis and inserted it up the leg of the shorts, guiding it onto Jamie’s sphincter. He checked himself. Jamie was the youngest boy he’d ever been with and the smallest by some margin. If the lad squealed, he’d stop.

He pushed forwards, gradually increasing the pressure. Suddenly Jamie’s sphincter relented and he slipped inside.

“Fuck!” Jamie gasped. “Oh, man!!”

“Are you okay?” Mike asked.

“Fuck, yeah!” Jamie confirmed, still breathing hard. “Stuff it in sir; just take it slow.”

He stood motionless, Mike’s hands around his thighs, the man’s penis advancing steadily into him. It hit his sex-button

“Oh, man!” he moaned, a bolt of electricity shooting through his cock.

Seconds later he was fully impaled. After a short pause, Mike began to fuck him. Jamie soon realised what the shorts were for, Mike’s penis thrusting repeatedly over his prostate combining with the friction between his hard spike and the coarse material bringing him to fever pitch. He shuddered uncontrollably.

“Uhhh! Uhhhh!!” he groaned.

His penis jerked wildly against the rough cotton shorts, trying desperately to pump out the spunk his balls had yet to make.

In an instant Mike’s orgasm was upon him.

“Good boy!” he growled. “Yes! Yes!! Nnnnnggg!!!”

He held on tight, his penis rearing up, almost lifting the boy off his feet, his semen spurting into Jamie’s rectum in several powerful volleys. After several seconds he carefully withdrew. Almost immediately his semen flooded out of Jamie’s anus, soaking the back of his shorts.

“Are you all right?” Mike asked gently.

“Yeah!” Jamie breathed. “Man! That was something else! Fuck!!”

“You can take those off now,” Mike said quietly.

Jamie slipped them off, handing them to Mike.

“My little souvenir,” Mike said, grinning.

Jamie giggled before hurrying off to the bathroom. Two minutes later he was back. He got onto bed, climbing right on top of Mike.

“Sir,” he asked. “Next year, could I be your boy, you know, after Martin’s left?”

“We’ll have to see about that,” Mike said guardedly, giving the boy a smile.

“So does that mean yes?” Jamie persisted.

“It means we’ll have to see,” Mike repeated.

Jamie gave Mike a look of mock disapproval, but to Mike’s relief, didn’t pursue the matter further. For several minutes they lay there, all still naked, not saying much but enjoying one another’s closeness. Finally Mike checked his watch.

“It’s nearly twelve o’clock,” he announced. “Time you lads were on your way.”

They got dressed.

“Thanks sir!” Jamie said, grinning again as he and Martin made their way out.

Mike retreated to the living room, flopping down on the sofa. It had been great; everything had gone perfectly. He still preferred being one-on-one with Martin, but as an occasional diversion it would have been difficult to improve on it.

He was less certain about having Jamie as ‘his boy’. On the positive side, the lad was unbelievably sexy, and accepting the lad’s suggestion would save him the trouble of finding someone else. On the other hand, Jamie and Martin were such different personalities. Jamie was cheeky and self-confident, cocky even; he didn’t need the help and support that had been so important to Martin. Mike wasn’t at all sure how the relationship would work. Having sex with Jamie was one thing; having him as ‘his boy’ was a completely different matter.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was late June and the summer term was beginning to wind down. Deon and the four scholarship boys had taken their ‘O’ level maths examination, and although Mike continued to keep all the boys in Upper Fourth working, the pressure was finally off.

The Common Entrance results had shown further improvement, with twenty four boys out of thirty obtaining places at top schools. That was one fewer than Mike’s target, but he was happy enough; they’d come very close. There were three scholarships too, the highest number in the school’s history, and although Dominic had missed out, he’d won a place at Wellington College, his father’s old school. He’d set his heart on going there, so he was more than happy to have made it.

Mike’s own running was going better than ever. He’d won the Southern Counties five thousand metre title, breaking thirteen and a half minutes for the first time. On the weekend after term finished he would be competing in the AAA Championships at Crystal Palace, and although there was no major championship to aim for, if he ran well he’d get the chance to compete in a few international races during the summer break.

The boys were also running well; they’d all improved, especially John, who’d run better with every race. In his last outing he’d won the eight hundred metres quite convincingly in a time of two minutes twenty one seconds, a big improvement on his previous best. More significantly his attitude had changed. He was training harder and really listening to what Mike told him.

Martin had been impressive too. Although he’d had to run in races he stood no chance of winning, he’d shown great determination, improving his fifteen hundred metres time to four minutes forty nine seconds, not far outside the school record.

But for all his runners’ achievements, the athletics performance of the season belonged to the quiet, unassuming William, who had won the Sussex Schools’ Junior Boys’ High Jump, advancing his own school record to one metre eighty five and winning himself a half-fees scholarship to Marlborough College. Mike knew how much work Jim Cooper had put into helping William achieve such a standard; he was delighted for both of them. More than that, it was an inspiration to him and the boys.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

For Martin, the most important race of the season would occur on Sports Day when he’d get the chance to race against Craig again. Craig had always beaten him on the flat cross-country courses, and even though he’d been playing cricket all summer and hadn’t trained, beating him over fifteen hundred metres was going to be a very tough proposition.

“How d’you think I should run it, sir?” Martin asked.

“The big mistake would be to try to run hard all the way,” Mike told him. “You’ll never beat anyone who’s any good doing that. What you need to do it to run the first two laps fairly steady, then run as hard as you can all the way to the line and hopefully run the sprint finish out of him; it’s your best chance.”

They practised in training, Mike pacing the boy through two steady laps before picking up the tempo over the remaining seven hundred metres.

“That’s hard, sir!” Martin complained, down on his haunches, trying to get his breathing under control. “My chest feels like it’s on fire!”

“That’s the whole point,” Mike said, smiling. “It was hard for you, and you’re in great shape. Craig hasn’t trained since before Easter; it’s going to be even harder for him.”

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Sports Day was warm and sunny, with very little wind, a day for great performances. Mike took his position by the finishing line, where he was in charge of the time-keepers. The entire school was out on the field, with a good number parents there in support. He smiled to himself as he spotted Geoff Greenhall and Tom Naylor. It was good to see them; Martin and Patrick needed that sort of support.

The day lived up to expectations. John looked impressive winning the Lower Fourth eight hundred metres. It was slower than he’d run before, but that didn’t matter. The boy looked good; he looked like a runner. William confirmed his status as one of the school’s all-time stars by winning not only the high jump, but the hurdles as well. It was more of an exhibition than a race, William crossing the finish line before any of the other boys had cleared the final flight of hurdles. He looked wonderful, his technique crisp and powerful, his sprinting between the barriers almost effortless.

Toby Redman was prowling around the infield, accompanied by science master Paul Chandler. Toby was filming the action, as he had the previous year, Mike remembered. From what he understood, Toby had begun filming Sports Day the year before that, when he was only eleven. Showing the films before the boys went home for the holidays had become one of the highlights of the school’s end of term activities. Toby was a remarkable young man; Mike reflected, a boy who set himself a goal then simply did whatever he needed to do to achieve it.

Finally they came to the fifteen hundred metres. The boys from Upper Fourth and Lower Fourth ran together, although the races were scored separately. As there was no race for the younger boys, Mike had arranged for third years Jamie and Philip to run as guests; he knew they wouldn’t be last.

The starting pistol sounded and ten boys headed along the back straight. Martin took his expected position at the front, all the other boys happy to let him set the pace. This was Martin’s test, Mike considered; being aware of other boys close to him, he might be tempted to press on too early.

Martin was going to do no such thing. Mike, his mentor, had given him a race plan and he was going to stick to it no matter what; in truth he’d have run through a brick wall if Mike had told him to. They completed the first lap in a modest seventy seven seconds, slowing a little on the second to go through eight hundred metres in two minutes thirty seven; right on the schedule Mike had given him.

Immediately, Martin picked the pace up. As they ran along the back straight the field split in two, Craig tucking in behind him, the other boys trailing in their wake. Craig had been surprised by how slow the first two laps had been, convinced that Martin would have wanted to make it hard from the start. He was surprised by this tactic too, surprised but unconcerned; all he had to do was to sit in then out-sprint Martin at the finish, just as he’d done so often during the winter.

They passed the bell in three minutes thirty two. As they started the final lap, doubts began to creep into Craig’s mind. The pace was fast and relentless; it was beginning to hurt. All the way down the back straight and around the final bend he hung on desperately, determined to stay close, his lungs burning. They turned into the home straight, boys, masters and parents roaring their support. Martin made one final effort. Craig’s legs buckled; he had no more left to give. Martin eased away to win in four minutes forty three with Craig just over a second behind, both boys having beaten the previous school record.

Mike was overcome with emotion. It had been a fantastic race, the best possible way for Sports Day to end. Martin’s performance had been everything he’d hoped for. For someone who had started out looking so ordinary to have improved so much and achieve what he had was simply overwhelming. And the boy wasn’t just a mud-slogger; the way he’d performed just then had given the message loud and clear; he was a real runner.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Mike was dreading having to say goodbye to Martin. It wasn’t just about sex; over the previous nine months they’d grown so close; he was going to miss the lad terribly. Martin had been offered a place at Winsthorpe College. He’d visited the school with his father earlier in the term and could hardly wait to get started.

And why not, Mike reflected? Martin had developed a new confidence, an enthusiasm, a sense of belonging; he’d found his place in the world. At the age of thirteen his life was opening up in front of him, new vistas, new challenges, new opportunities, things that twelve months earlier he wouldn’t have even dreamed of; it was right that he should be excited.

It didn’t make matters any easier for him though. He’d never had feelings for anyone the way he had for Martin. Oh, he’d liked the boys that he’d had sex with when he was at school, but when he’d finally left to go to university, he’d left Paul and Anthony behind with hardly a second thought. He’d been very fond of Claire, of course, but even that paled into insignificance when compared with the way he felt for Martin.

It wasn’t about finding boys for sex. Jamie and Gavin would still be there in September and would be available more or less any time he wanted them. He’d probably be able to have Evan occasionally too. During that term, Evan had been back once, much as Mike had predicted; after one of the track meetings he’d asked for a massage, which Mike had been happy to give him. Afterwards Mike had given the boy some gym shorts to wear and fucked him over the bedside cabinet. Although Evan hadn’t come back a second time, Mike felt certain that he’d continue to get occasional requests from the lad when the rugby season started up again.

What Mike wanted was someone who would grow to mean as much to him as Martin had done, to give a real sense of purpose to his life. He felt sure it was no coincidence that at the age of twenty nine he was running better than he ever had; he was at peace with himself and feeling better about everything. But Martin was moving on and come September he would have to find someone to replace him. But who? The only thing he felt certain of was that Jamie was not the one.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

They were snuggled up on Mike’s bed, as naked as jaybirds, kissing passionately. Mike didn’t usually invite Martin to the apartment on Wednesday evenings, but the following afternoon the leavers’ reception would be held. Martin’s father would be there, and in accordance with the school’s normal tradition, he’d take the boy home with him. This would be their last meeting.

“I’m going to miss you terribly,” Mike said quietly. “When we first got together I never dreamed things would develop the way they have. You’ve done fantastically well; I’m so proud of you.”

“You never dreamed?” Martin replied, grinning. “Well I didn’t either. I’d no idea; not a clue. Of course I’m excited about going to Winsthorpe, but I’m going to miss you too. None of this would have happened if you hadn’t been there for me.”

“Well remember what you’ve learned and make the most of your opportunities,” Mike said.

“I will,” Martin said, rubbing noses with him. “That’s a promise.”

Their lips joined together in another passionate kiss. For the next twenty minutes they kissed, they caressed, they sucked, they fondled; both determined to make the most of the time they had together.

“Are you going to fuck me?” Martin said finally.

“Is that what you want?” Mike asked.

“Of course it is!” Martin said, smiling. “You know I love having you inside me.”

“So how d’you want it?” Mike enquired. “Wearing shorts?”

“Not today,” Martin said. “Remember the first time I came here?”

“Yeah,” Mike confirmed. “I had you on your tummy with a pillow under you. So is that what you want?”

“Yeah,” Martin responded.

After making the necessary preparations, Mike slowly eased himself into position. He looked down at Martin, lying submissively beneath him. Whatever boys he might meet in the future, he decided, this one would always have a very special place in his heart. Fifteen minutes later, Martin was fully dressed and leaving the apartment for the last time. Mike watched him go, wiping away a tear as the boy who had been such an important part of his life disappeared from view.