Date: Tue, 15 Jan 2013 21:13:38 -0600 From: Prince Ernest Subject: Chapter 8 Room 108 Adult/Youth Section Disclaimers: Everything you read in this story is my intellectual property and as such should be treated with utmost respect. The students described are not living, breathing human beings mind you. They exist only in the realm of pure imagination, somewhat. These are my fantasies that I have developed over the years. The students described in the story do not really exist, but are rather the combination of several different students. Thus I am not harming anyone, because they combine features and thus are not really in existence. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO REAL PEOPLE IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL ON MY PART. All other disclaimers/rules/procedures apply. If you are under the legal age of viewing this material (depending upon where you live, that could be any age) please direct yourself to something else that will occupy your time. Also, PLEASE PLEASE consider donating to Nifty Archives! We lose funding, and all these great stories disappear :(. Just click on the Donate tab at the top of your screen! Simple, easy and definitely worth it! Other than that, I sincerely hope you enjoy my story. Constructive criticism/feedback/comments are duly appreciated. Please direct them to my email at prince_ernest86@live.com. All are welcome! And thank you in to all those who I already consider my fans! Your support means more than you will ever know! Room 108-Chapter8: The Revelation "Actually Byron, it seems that you mostly do the "going down", Gideon said with a chuckle, as him and Byron departed. Hayden spent a minute pulling up his boxers and shorts, while gathering his things. He went over and got a drink out of the water fountain, and I saw that he made sure that Gideon and Byron were gone while he was walking back towards the bleachers and the shed. My dick was still aching for release, and I desperately wanted to get home and spill my seed while thinking of this glorious scene that had just transpired before me. I was praying Hayden would be quick to leave, when I heard his voice ring out in the clear night air. "Coach if you are in the shed, you can come out now. The others are gone, and I wanna talk to you about some things. If you aren't in there, I guess I'm just crazy, but I'm going to come in there in a minute just to check, so if you are hiding, there isn't any sense in it. I'm Athos by the way." Whatever my dick was feeling at that moment, was quickly deflated by the realization that my very, VERY worst fear was being realized and I wasn't dreaming. My heart stopped for a good minute, and for a minute I thought "I'm going to die right here, right now. This is how I'm going to die. In the back of a baseball diamond shed, after spying on 8th grade boys. My obituary is already written." I could do nothing, as my legs felt like they were made of concrete. I just turned around and sat down on the floor of the shed, sweat pouring down my face, and down my arms as well. I was in deep trouble there was no doubt about it. Again my dick had almost shriveled up back inside myself, I was so afraid. I managed somehow to find my voice, and in a voice that sounded like it was barely out of puberty itself, I spoke to Hayden. "Hayden I'm in here, but I'm not coming out there. I don't think there is anything I can do to stop you from coming in here, and if you are going to call the cops, I would prefer to stay in here until they get here." While I sat there mulling over what possible defense I could offer when we got to court, or perhaps whether it might be more prudent to just admit guilt and avoid a lengthy and potentially embarrassing trial, I heard the shuffling of flip flops on the dirt that was around the shed. It was a slow and deliberate step as if he was unsure what to expect me to do. Would I run and try and get away? He was trying to delay actually coming and see me. He was nervous about this confrontation, almost dreading it even from the sound of his steps. It was like a football game that you had practiced for all week. You knew all the plays, and what to expect, but here it was, game day. All your confidence is gone when you take a step out onto the field. All the power over life and death in my existence was being held by this nervous 14 year old boy. After what seemed like an eternity, he appeared in front of the door of the shed. As stated earlier, he wasn't wearing a shirt and the sweat of the afternoon was slightly trickling down his tight chest and his slightly formed abs. His hair wasn't too sweaty from his afternoon exercises, but it was matted a little bit in the front. Perhaps he had been wearing a cap earlier and taken it off before he had gotten to the park. There wasn't any hair on his chest, and there was a definite lack of a treasure trail, but his legs definitely had some light hair going on there. His tan was perfect and his nipples still appeared to be hard. In what I could only consider a cruel twist of fate, he wasn't frowning or looking upset. He just appeared to have a blank look on his face. He spoke first, and I waited for him to finish, letting this vision decide my fate before I decided to offer any resistance or not. "Coach, if I was going to call the cops I would have done either on one of two times. Either after I saw you in the mirror or before we left for the baseball diamonds today. If I had wanted you to be in jail, you would have been in jail. I'm sorry if that's what you think is going to happen right now, but I swear I just wanted to talk. Besides we are here in the park. No one has seen you, and it's my word against yours that you were even here." His voice betrayed just a hint of emotion, and that emotion was uncertainty. His face was scrunched up as well, in a face of utter confusion, like I had just asked him a advanced calculus question and was expecting an answer. I must admit I was a little taken aback by what he said, and was still a little unsure about what he had said. Yes, what he said made sense, but I was still on my guard. Perhaps he had called the cops, and told them to be here when he knew the boys and him would be done. He could get his jollies off, and still get me arrested. I decided to speak just a little bit, in an attempt to clarify what might be going on here. "Hayden, I'm sorry if I violated your privacy. I didn't mean to see what happened on Friday, and I came more today out of curiosity than anything else. I haven't hurt you or the other boys, so if it's alright with you I rather just leave, and we can act like this never happened." That would be my bait. If he let me go without saying anything, I knew that this would have just been a ruse to try and trick a dirty old pervert like myself. If he made me wait, or didn't say anything, then I knew he was bluffing and I was a dead man walking. I didn't know what to expect, and I would have preferred simply knowing what my future would be, even if that included jail time, as being preferable to just sitting there and waiting for a resolution to come. "No!! Coach, please don't go! I swear I'm not mad that you caught us. In fact...I'm relieved that you did." He said this last phrase very slowly, and deliberately as if he wanted each word to be perfect. The words were simple and direct and I was a little intrigued by what he had said. For one thing he kept calling me Coach, which odd as it might seem, I took to mean that he still respected me. Coach was a term of acknowledging a superior and he still seemed to be viewing me in such a capacity. If he was going to turn me in, he would have been calling me foul names. It wasn't much to go on, but again it was enough to pique my interest. Also, and I might have just been reading too much into small things again, which I'm very good at, but I think I had detected a bit of fear in his voice. If the police were on their way, this kid had nothing to fear. It would all be soon in a matter of minutes, and even if I had left, he could still report me and they could show up at my house. The fear, I think, was mingled with a bit of pleading. He really didn't want me to go. He wanted me to stay. He wanted to talk to me. I could have been just making this up, but what did I have to lose? Again, if my life was over, a conversation that was going nowhere couldn't hurt. If he really did want to talk to me, what would the harm be in that? It was a conversation between two people, and nothing more. I decided to probe a little bit more and see where it lead me. The rabbit hole was about to deepen considerably. "What did you say Hayden?" I was unsure as to what he meant by saying that he was relieved I had caught him. Obviously we were going to discuss this bizarre situation. A teacher had just witnessed three of his male students in a semi-circle jerk at a local park baseball diamond, and instead of those students reporting said teacher, the lead student was going to sit down in the baseball shed and discuss what the teacher had just seen. If you had looked up the word bizarre in the dictionary, I'm 99.99 sure that you would have seen an etching of me and Hayden sitting down, looking the way we were, in the baseball shed. "I said that I'm glad you caught us. I'm relieved actually. I...I...don't know what I'm doing Coach. This is all soo much for me to handle, and I don't know what is going to happen. I wanted to talk to you about this in school today, but we had that stupid assembly and I'm sorry that I couldn't come and talk to you about what you saw on Friday." My ears had to be deceiving me. I, a teacher of 8th grade social studies, had broken about maybe a dozen federal laws by watching the boys. I say a dozen in a conservative estimate, because I hadn't taken the actual time to look it up. I was surely going to go to jail. And yet, instead of being mad at me or disgusted by me watching him, Hayden was actually apologizing to me and saying he was sorry that he hadn't sought me out to explain what I had seen. As if I needed some sort of explanation to what I had seen, when it was all so obviously black and white. "Hayden, I don't know what to say. You have nothing to apologize for. You weren't doing anything wrong. I had betrayed your trust by coming here to watch you and the boys. Friday was an honest mistake, I don't think you knew I was still there, and that's okay, but I should haven't come here today. I'm sorry, and if you want, I'll leave now and we will never have to talk about this again." I offered this up as a reasonable way to get myself out of a sticky situation, while also getting the hell out of there immediately. No one else had yet seen us, secluded as we were in the baseball shed, and no one else had been in the locker room on Friday. If Hayden had decided to report me, it would be a simple matter or his word against mine, and while it might get a little murky, I had a spotless reputation so far and I would probably get off with a light reprimand and be watched for a while by Mrs. Arthur. "NO COACH!!" Hayden shouted at me. I looked up at him, when he yelled this at me. I had been keeping my eyes on the floor, afraid to make eye contact with him because for some reason I thought did make eye contact with him, this would all become real. When I looked up at him, directly in his eyes, I noticed something I had not expected to see. Tears. Hayden was crying. Not a full on, wallowing in despair cry session, but a gentle and soft ring of tears around his eyes. These tears appeared to be the tears of someone who is afraid of something. I wasn't still sure if this was an act on his part, because I simply didn't know what he had to lose in me leaving, besides setting me up. In a soft whisper, barely audible he finished his sentence. "...don't leave. I have no one to talk to." "Hayden there isn't much to talk about. I saw what happened, and it's pretty obvious what I need to do now. I need to leave here, possibly look for a new job, and never see you again. I violated your trust, and I can't serve as a good teacher to you ever again." "No, Coach, I'm begging you please don't go. I know I messed up, and I shouldn't have been doing those things with Gideon and Byron, but they just feel good when we do them. I know I'm probably going to hell, but I don't want to. Please, please don't go. I have no one to talk to about these feelings! My fucking shit head dad left me and my mom for some other cunt in Texas, and he never sees me! No one else knows about me except for the boys! Please, Mr. Lambert you have to help me!" Wait, what? He wants my help? He wants me to make everything better? He thinks I'm judging him? Now, I was definitely scared that this was a set up. There was no way in hell I had heard him correctly. The very fact that he wanted my help confirmed that this might be a game on his part. "Hayden, I don't know what game you are playing, but how can I help you? You aren't doing anything wrong! I'm the one that did something wrong. I shouldn't have been spying on you tonight, so I need to leave right now." I stood up quickly and tried to move towards the door, in an effort to get out of there immediately. I wanted to end this little game with him. "Coach, please, please don't go. I'm begging you." Tears were now flowing down his face, and his voice was raspy with fear and an element of desire. Not a sexual desire, but a desire for me to stay and talk with him. The look in his eyes was a look of abject fear and a longing for me to make things right. His eyes were pleading with me almost, to stay with him. I searched his deep blue eyes as quickly as I could, and to my utter surprise, I saw only one thing. A deep desire to be comforted by someone who actually cared about him. He wasn't looking to trap me, or do anything sexual with me. He wanted me to stay with him, and if I was reading him right, he wanted me to make things okay for him. For a moment he seemed almost younger than he was. He seemed weak, and defenseless like a wounded child that has fallen of his bike and was looking for a parent to pick him up and scrape the dirt off his wounded knee. He wanted protection. "Hayden, let's sit down. I don't know what I can do to help you, but I think you really do want someone to talk to and help you. Again, if this is some little game of yours to keep me here while Gideon and Byron go get the cops, I'd appreciate a heads-up and a decent chance to get out of here." I said this last little line with all the bravado I could muster. I was half being truthful, but I was also trying to sound cocky and confident in an effort for him to settle down. One thing that kicked in from college about working with middle school students is that if you remain confident and act like you know what's going on, the students will naturally follow you. What did I have to lose, by falling back on some training I had received a few years ago? To my utter amazement, he looked right up at me, and smiled a little bit. It was a weary smile, and while he did it, he took a slow ragged breath out. Like he was letting the weight of everything go, and suddenly in addition to looking weak, he now looked very tired. He spoke and I listened because there was very little else I could do but listen. He spoke so quickly that the words just seemed to spill out of him. "Coach, I'm sorry if I scared you with the note, and by calling out to you earlier, but I didn't know how to talk to you about what I was doing. I know I'm doing something wrong, but it still feels so right. Gideon and Byron don't act like they care about whether it's right or wrong, but I'm still not sure. They are my best friends, and if they don't think it's wrong, it can't be wrong can it? My church says boys shouldn't touch other things, and mom makes me go every week! They say I'm going to hell for having these feelings! They don't know what I do, but every fucking week it's like they are bashing on gay people, and I just feel like the pastor is talking to me every time! What do I do Coach? If my fucking lame ass dad was here, he might be able to help me, but no! He had to follow his dick all the way to Houston, and out of my life! God why am I so fucked up?!?!" God, he sounded so defenseless. Here he was, spilling his guts to me like I was his best friend in the whole entire world, and not some perverted old man who had been spying on him. I did plenty of reading in college about the impact of absent parents have on students in middle school, and I fully believed what the research showed, but I had never had a chance to experience it in real life. Hayden was a prime example of one of the students that they had talked about. Hayden had made his life almost perfect, good grades, sports star and a great personality, all to try and get his dad back into his life. He worked hard to get the things he wanted, and the thing he wanted most, was something that he simply couldn't have no matter how man A's he got on his report card, or how many goals he scored on the soccer field. His father simply did not want him and probably would never want to be in his life. My heart ached for this boy more than I could have ever thought it would. "Hayden, you are not going to hell for feeling the way you do. There is nothing wrong with you. The feelings you have, you can't do anything about them. They are a part of you. You have done nothing wrong. Gideon and Byron have done nothing wrong. You are not a fuck up, do you hear me?" "Coach you just said fuck up!" He giggled a little bit and again took a deep breath out. He leaned back and just looked up at me, waiting for me to make the next move. All fear had gone from his eyes, and he looked at me with just trepidation, as afraid that now I would be angry at him, or still keep talking. I was in control of the situation, but where would I take this conversation was the question that he wanted answered. I decided that I was going to push it just a little bit and see what happened. "Hayden, you seriously have no one to talk to about these things that you are feeling? It sounds like Gideon and Byron have already made their minds up, but you are still on the fence am I right?" He just nodded, so I kept going. "If you really, really want to talk to someone about these things, I'll talk to you. But I have to trust you first. I'm taking a very big risk here, and I need to make sure I'm safe. If you want to talk right now, we can go to the Micky D's across the street and talk about some things. But I don't think we should talk in the shed. What do you say to that?" ***** Okay two quick things. Well three really. 1) This chapter is really just half of what I want it to be, so apologies if it's shit. Not trying to get compliments, but I just wish I could go on and on, but I want to see what people think so far. Is this conversation and situation still slightly realistic and believable? 2) Dear God, you people are amazing! 18 emails in one day, giving me some of the most supportive feedback in my life! That ONE negative email must have really ticked some people off! I want to clarify something though. I totally love, EXPECT constructive criticism, but a three page email saying I'm way off base and my story sucks, and all middle school boys have 9 inch dicks. Yeah, about that...go fuck yourself maybe? :) 3) Again, this is probably half of what I would really like to have published, but I wanted to get it out. I in no way felt rushed in publishing this, but I wanted to see if I was still being true to my readers. What I'm trying to get at is, that even though so far its been every other chapter will have sex now that we've gotten to it, DON'T expect sex next chapter. Expect more dialogue. Don't like? Oh look, there are like 1000000 other stories on this website! Questions/comments/concerns/and dare I say complaints, please direct to my email, prince_ernest86@live.com Please, again consider making donations to Nifty! Your support is gladly appreciated!