The CFMS Programme, Part Three

By Ivor Sukwell.

As always, all the usual disclaimers apply, and please do not forget to send a small (or large) donation to Nifty to assist in keeping the stories flowing.

This is the concluding part of the CFMS entertainment, and it takes place a number of years after the two preceding parts. There are two new characters; Alex, a thirteen year old runaway and Jason, a fourteen year old black boy.

CFMS Programme, Part Three

Ah, James, so good of you to join me old chap.

Not often I get the chance to dine in a Club like yours, old boy. Don't know how you manage it.

Perk of the job, old chap. Department keeps a few places here. Handy for chatting business, don't you know. Pretty dull in the office.

Must be a hard life, old boy. Don't know how you manage.

Do I detect a hint of jealousy there, old chap? Fancy a G and T while we look at the menu? I must say they do a fairly decent sole here if fish is your thing.

Not really, old boy. Prefer a good, thick steak.

Seem to remember you used to like your meat a little on the slim side.

Ah; but I don't suppose they do leg of boy here, do they.

`Fraid not, old chap. Waiters are fairly decent though; bit old for you of course; sixteen, seventeen mostly. Except for the wine chaps, of course; they have to be eighteen to be legal.

Never was terribly keen on them once they became legal.

Know what you mean, old chap. They tend to spoil very quickly once they reach sixteen. But I don't suppose you have that problem, do you, not being where you are.

No, true. Definite perk having a new intake of fresh ones every year.

Fourteen still your favourite vintage?

Oh, yes, very much so. Everything well into working order and no problems with hair on the legs or under the arms. Not even too much in the other place on most of them.

And no doubt you manage to sample a few. Ah, drinks. Thank you, Simon. Would you be so kind as to send us Harry in about ten minutes? Should have decided by then. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, you sampling a few.

Quite a few if we're talking cock, old boy. In fact I'd say just about all the decent ones. Of course, you always get a few overweight and I do try to avoid the incomplete ones unless they are very pretty or offer more than just cock.

And no thoughts of the other at all?

Absolutely not, old boy. There was some talk of turning the place into a mixed establishment, financially inspired I believe. Fortunately nothing came of it. Wouldn't do at all, old boy, having cunt around the place.

Rather an unpleasant thought, old chap, Put a chap off his food, eh, what. Cock is what a fellow needs, plenty of nice, young cock. And you are getting plenty of that, eh?

Got around eighty in each year, so leaving out the cut ones and the fat ones, it's about a hundred and fifty or so in Lower School most years. Of course, I don't do them all every year, but I do try to sample everything worthwhile before it becomes legal and starts to spoil. Try to get a go at them when they're fourteen, of course, and then keep anything special running till the dreaded day. Provided it doesn't start getting hairy, of course. Not interested in the ones with hairy legs however nice the cock.

And no problems with getting in the first feel? All give willingly enough?

Absolutely, old boy. I normally leave them till they are fourteen; give them a year to settle in and get used to playing with each other, so by the time they're old enough for me they're ready for me. Usually get them knocking on my door on their birthdays, don't you know.

So you'd say the MCOOTIL programme is working well?

Very well indeed, old boy, very well indeed. The fat ones have problems finding takers for what's on offer of course, but then, that's their fault for being fat in the first place. The cut ones don't seem to have any problems; boys are less fussy, I suppose.

And what about ethnic minorities?

Oh, no problems at all. Black, brown, yellow, white, all give with absolute eagerness. Must say, rather partial to the black and yellow ones, old boy. Brown ones can be very pretty and delightfully slender, but one has to get at them early; hair grows very quickly you know. Delightful legs at thirteen and a half, untouchable by fourteen. Great shame.

Absolutely, old chap, absolutely. Understand there are chaps with strange tastes, though, and actually like a bit of fur on a boy. Throw back to primitive times, I suppose.
Ah, Harry. Good chap. I must say you look absolutely splendid this evening, my boy, absolutely splendid. No, there's no need for the eyelash fluttering or the posing, dear thing. Me guest's not interested in your body, I'm afraid, delightful as it is. I'm afraid you're a bit too old for Mr. Edwardson; he doesn't do legal boys. Though if you were to make an exception, James old chap, I can assure you that Harry doesn't have one single hair on him. Top quality fuck as well. No? Oh well; just the sole for me then, Harry, and a steak for Mr. Edwardson. Oh, and a bottle of Chateau Neuf with the steak and an Albarino for me. Yes, Harry, I know you cannot serve those, but you can take the order and pass it on. I wouldn't dream of asking you to do something not legal, Harry.
Such a shame you don't have a younger brother. You do? Jason? And Jason is..........fourteen. Just the age Mr. Edwardson likes them.
I say, just had a thought; I wonder how you'd feel about Mr. Edwardson attempting to seduce Jason? Really? No objections at all? Such a shame tomorrow is Friday and Jason will be in school. Is that so? Jason does not always bother with going to school.
What do you think, James old chap? Should we ask Harry if he'd be so kind as to find out what Jason would like to do for a day out with a gentleman who is very fond of boys and his big regret is that he doesn't have a son to take out for treats?
Yes? Excellent. No, Harry, I do understand that Jason may well say `fuck off' and even if he doesn't then there is absolutely no guarantee that Mr. Edwardson will succeed in getting inside his underwear, but I'm sure he will enjoy trying to do so.
So far as you know Jason is a virgin? I suspect that improves things, eh, James?
Do you think you could possibly let us know at breakfast tomorrow? Excellent. Thank you so much, Harry. No, I insist. And shall we say another fifty if Jason says yes?
Now, see to the meals, Harry, there's a dear.

What's the game, Peter old boy? You're setting me up with a fourteen year old virgin and giving me an afternoon to see if I can seduce him? And the boy is obviously of the state school variety so he won't even have been treated with MCOOTIL. Jolly tall order, old boy.

No, he won't have been dosed, and that makes this little experiment even better.

I see. I'm to be the subject of one of the Department's experiments, am I? Well, at least I know this time.

Neither of us knew that first time, old chap, but I don't think we have too many complaints, really, do we?

None at all, old boy. The thought of spending my life chasing cunt is really quite revolting.

Quite so. Boys are delightful creatures, aren't they.

Especially when one is easing one's cock into their tight, virgin holes, old boy.

Quite so. My own preference is for a never-before-touched young cock, but I do take your point.
Now, I invited you in the hope of persuading you to take part in an experiment on a new substance that we have been working on. We are utterly delighted at the success of MCOOTIL. It has been running for six years now and all the evidence is that there is hardly a single boy between the ages of thirteen and fifteen who attends a proper school who has not had his cock properly used.

Apart from the fat ones.

Well, yes, maybe so. Now some schools will be taking in boys next term who have been, unknowingly obviously, partaking in an experiment of a substance that inclines them to suck anyone's cock until they are old enough to spunk themselves. Like MCOOTIL, it is age specific, starting at ten and ending at whatever age it is that they begin to produce sperm. I believe your establishment will be taking two of them and we would like to know if there is any carry-over when MCOOTIL is introduced. Will, for example, they gobble with enthusiasm when their peers begin to wank each other?
That, however, is not the experiment I am talking about here.
The Department is concerned that while boys are now very happy to have their cocks used, all reports indicate that the same is not true for their arses.

I can definitely confirm that, old boy. I've had several hundred cocks since I became a Housemaster, but I doubt if I've managed to get inside more than a dozen. Now and again you get one who can't bend over fast enough, but most are bloody hard work. Of course, there is a definite degree of satisfaction when one eventually gets one's cock in what had, till then, been a tight shut arse, but the ratio of fucks to cocks is not a good one.

And this is why we are trying to develop CIMAP; Cock In My Arse Please.

Oh, I say old boy, that would be wonderful if it's anywhere near as successful as MCOOTIL.

The Department is rather worried about the ratio you referred to. Soren did wonderful work all those years ago, the fifteen targets he compromised is still a Department record, but, of course, once a boy becomes legal much of his value is lost. We're lucky if we can get even thirty months productive use from one, so there is a real need for new operatives. We are rather pinning our hopes on CIMAP increasing the numbers.
It had been my intention to give you these samples to try on a few items you fancied at your establishment. One packet of cigarettes; oh, all of them are laced so don't smoke them yourself. Five Mars Bars and a packet of toffees. What I suggest is that you try one, or indeed all three versions, on young, virgin Jason and see if it results in a fuck.

Now that, old boy, is an experiment I'll be happy to partake in.

Harry can tell us tomorrow just how much of a virgin his brother is. Obviously the boy will wank, he's state school after all, but there's a good chance he's only done that for himself.

Unless Harry has got at him.

Oh, I doubt that. Harry is very much a man's boy. Very popular with some of the Club Members, I may say.

Must say, old boy, rather surprised to see a place like this employing a black lad. State school as well. Not at all what one might have expected.

Multi-cultural society these days, old chap. No ethnic discrimination. And properly educated chaps wouldn't be after jobs as waiters, would they, so has to be state school ones.
HR is responsible for staffing the Department's part of the Club and the junior who interviewed young Harry gave him a glowing report. Best fuck he'd had for ages he said.

Let's hope his brother comes up to scratch then, eh, what. Nice, black arse make a refreshing change, don't you know.

Quite partial to a bit of black cock myself; always try to sample one when I'm checking up on things at a school. How's the steak? And the Chateau Neuf? Excellent.
Enjoying life as a Housemaster then,are you old chap? Suits your needs, sort of thing?

Very good, old boy. Never have to sleep alone and rather enjoy the hockey coaching as well. Pay's not quite in the same class as yours, of course, but I do have trouble-free access to some very nice boys. Don't suppose you do too badly in that respect yourself.

I can't complain, old chap. Have to keep tabs on the MCOOTIL programme, of course, so I do get around the schools now and again.
Matter of fact, things may look up in the sleeping alone department fairly soon.

Found yourself something nice, have you old boy?

Not exactly, old chap, no. Working on something a little different at the moment and not really sure what use it will be if we do manage to devlop it. Called IWAD, I Want A Daddy. No use in schools of course, not proper ones anyway.

No, I can see that. What's the thinking behind it? Department never does anything without a reason, does it.

Bit left field, really, old chap. Concerns in political circles about the number of young runaways cluttering up the streets. Fellow in P and R came up with the idea that if some of them found a daddy it would get them off the streets. Clean the place up a bit.

Can see where he's coming from, but wouldn't be exactly the best class of boys would they.

Obviously not, but the idea isn't to use them for Department work, just get them off the streets with minimal expense. If they get a daddy then there's considerable savings to the public purse. Police don't have to try to pick them up and send them back where they came from, or local authorities have to spend money looking after them if sending them back's not an option.

So where do you fit in, old boy?

Offered to be a daddy for a suitable guinea pig when they have a trial dose ready. Wouldn't mind taking in something reasonable of thirteen or so. Be cock on tap, same as you have.

Not legal cock though. Wouldn't that be a problem?

Good heavens, no. No more than it is for you. Full Department protection, obviously. What you fancy for pudding? Apple tart for me.

Good luck then, old boy. Hope you find something decent. Bit of a gamble though, I suppose. Don't suppose you'll be able to inspect it first. Could land up with something cut. Oh, spotted dick, I'll have some of that. Plenty of custard, please Harry.

Oh, well done, Harry, that was clever of you. Jason's up for a day out tomorrow, old boy. Harry sent him a text, wasn't that clever? And as far as you know, Harry, nothing but his own hand? Ah, possibly a girl or two. Oh well, never mind, we all make mistakes, eh, what!
Hope you have a good day, tomorrow, James old chap, and that CIMAP turns out to be all we hope it will.

Sure it will, Peter old boy. And my thanks for asking me to be the one to be the first to try it.

Don't mention it, old chap. One doesn't forget old school pals, does one.

Indeed not, old boy, indeed not. And I hope that IWAD stuff works for you as well. Shame it has to be one of the lower classes, but I suppose our sort aren't the type to do runners from home, are they.

God forbid, old chap. Proper sense of right and wrong, our sort. Duty and country and all that.
Do let us know how Jason turns out; if he's anything like Harry then, by all reports, you'll have the fuck of your life, what, eh?

Indeed I will, old boy, indeed I will. And I do hope they find you something with decent legs. Know how much you liked your legs.

Seem to recall you being rather fond of them as well, old boy.

Definitely, old boy. Wonderful legs. Quite turned me off cunt for life.

Toast, old chap: To boys and their legs.

To boys; and not just their legs.

Well said, old chap; `To Boys' it is.

 

 

His arse was on fire. He'd started screaming when that table-tennis bat thing had smashed onto his tender young flesh for the third time, and he'd lost count of the number of times he'd screamed since then.
The tears had started to flow soon after the first scream and his legs had given way not long after that. He'd tried to keep a grip on the table edge because he'd been told not to let go, but he couldn't. The pain had been too much, his knees had given way and he'd collapsed on the floor, but all that had happened was that he'd been picked up, put back across the table and his arse had been hit again. And again, and again after that.
It had stopped in the end and his daddy had squeezed and stroked his burning arse and reached in front of him and fondled his cock. No-one had ever touched him there before and he knew he shouldn't have let it happen, but it was what his daddy wanted to do, so he had to let him. Even though his arse hurt so much it had actually felt quite nice having his cock fondled, and it shouldn't feel nice, should it?
Then his daddy had turned him round and he'd done as he was told and opened his mouth so daddy could put his tongue in there, and even though he was still crying and his arse felt as though it was being burned by a blow-torch, his cock had gone from hardish to hard as a nail when daddy's tongue swirled around in his mouth, and he forgot to worry about whether he ought to like it or not because it really did feel good, even though his arse was still burning.
And it was even right that his arse should be on fire because he was daddy's boy now and daddy had to make sure that he knew that, knew that he'd do everything his daddy wanted. And he would; everything and anything because he was daddy's boy and he wanted more than anything to be daddy's boy.
Daddy stopped kissing him and rubbed some stuff on his red-hot, burning arse and some of the pain went away, not all of it, but some, and when daddy told him to lie down and rest for a bit he had to lay on his front because his arse still hurt so much.

It was well strange because part of him liked it that his arse was burning and part of him said he never wanted to feel pain like that again; but both parts agreed that when daddy put his tongue in his mouth his cock went harder than it had ever done before and something in him wanted more than just tongue in his mouth. And not just in his mouth! And that was odd, weird, strange, disgusting and revolting and why was he thinking things like that? And even more why, what was he doing feeling that those odd, strange, weird, disgusting and revolting thoughts were not making him feel disgusted and revolted?
He could feel his super-hard cock pressed into the cushions of the sofa he was lying on and why was that? And why was he naked? Well, that was a stupid thing to wonder about he was naked because he'd taken all his clothes off when his daddy had told him to and though he'd felt more than just a bit shy and embarrassed about doing that, he'd done it anyway and found he fucking well liked being naked with daddy looking at him!
And he knew what bits daddy was looking at as well. Okay, so daddy had looked at all of him, fair enough, but he'd looked most at his cock and he'd smiled and licked his lips when he looked at it so there was no way he didn't know straight away what it was that daddy wanted and he should have yelled for the police or something instead of finding it nice that daddy seemed to like his cock and he'd even thought that he wasn't going to object if daddy wanted to do a lot more than just look at his cock and where the fuck that thought came from he didn't have the faintest idea!

It was all so totally weird. He'd done a runner from home because he hated home and his step-father hated him. Told him often enough that he was a useless piece of shit and why didn't he do everyone a favour and just fuck off out of their lives? So he had. And good fucking riddance to the lot of them! Hadn't done a runner to become a daddy's boy though. Never even thought of that. Oh yes, coming from the back streets of Leeds he knew a thing or two about the sort of stuff that went on and knew that a runaway boy on the streets of a place like London was sure to attract the attention of a perv or two, but if anyone tried anything on all he had to do was yell `Pedo' at the top of his lungs and they'd fuck off quick enough.

Hadn't happened like that, though, had it. Oh, no. He'd barely stepped off the National Express bus at this place called Victoria when a couple of cops pounced on him, almost like they was waiting for him or something. He'd thought at first that his cunt of a step-father had reported him, not cos he'd done a runner but cos he'd nicked well over a hundred quid from the cunt's wallet to do his runner with, but the cops hadn't arrested him or nothing. No, they'd been well nice.
One of them had asked him what he was doing in London all on his own and fair enough, cos London's a long way from Leeds ain't it, an' he sposed it were a bit suspicious cos all he had with him was his shoulder bag. Hadn't really planned his runner, just nicked the money and done one.
Well, course, he didn't have no proper answer and the cops had smiled and asked him, well nice like, if he'd done a runner, and cos it were fucking obvious he had like, he confessed and begged them not to send him back cos he hated it there and no-one wanted him there anyway.

And the cops had been well nice about it and that were a bit of a shock, cos coming from where he came from, you was brought up to believe all cops was pigs and just looking for a chance to do you over.
Anyway, one of them had said that he should call him `Soren' and what was his name an' he'd told them he was Alex. And the cop had smiled and said something like, `Well, Alex, I expect you're hungry and thirsty after that long bus ride from Leeds, so why don't we all go to the station cafe and have a cup of tea and a sausage roll or something?'
So he did, an' when he was drinking his tea the cop called `Soren' had phoned someone and said he'd found a possible or something like that. Said he was quite tall, about five foot, fair hair and blue eyes and pretty slim and was that what was being looked for? Said he had no idea if he was intact but he'd hazard a guess that he was, whatever that meant, and that yes he would. Would what? Who knows?

Well, this Soren cop went and got him a couple of sausage rolls an' they were nice an' hot an' he wolfed them down cos he was fucking hungry and just started chatting to him, well nice like. So he told them all about why he'd done his runner an' stuff an' told them it weren't no use sending him back cos he'd only do another one an' the cops had looked at each other and sort of smiled, like he'd said the right thing or something.
Asked him what he thought he'd do in London an' he said, an' fuck knows why, the words just sorta popped out his mouth like without him really thinking them, that what he really wanted was to find a daddy who'd look after him like what a boy should be looked after, though what the fuck he meant by that or why the fuck he'd said it he hadn't got a clue.
The cops looked at each other again an' the Soren one got on his phone again an' said that it appeared to be satisfactory and that the subject appeared to be around thirteen. He remembered that bit clearly cos he'd said `thirteen an' a quarter' so the cop got things right, cos if they thought he was only just thirteen that'd mean he was only just past twelve and twelve would mean he was just a kid and they'd be bound to send him back. So the cop said that to whoever he were talking to an' then said, he sposed cos he'd been asked a question, that he stake a dinner at the club on him being completely untouched. Well, the cops hadn't laid a finger on him, had they, so course he was untouched, but he sposed Soren had said that in case they found any bruises or anything on him later an' Soren could say it weren't him or his mate what had put them there.
Then he told whoever it were he were talking to that he'd said he wanted a daddy to look after him and that he should get down to the cafe at Victoria Bus Station well quick cos they didn't want to hang around longer than they had to cos they was in uniform like.

`Bout quarter of an hour later, he were on his second cup of tea, this bloke what's now his daddy turned up an' he were all posh in a suit an' he spoke well posh an' all, not like what you'd expect a cop to talk even if he weren't in a uniform.
Well, Soren told this bloke what's now his daddy that he'd had the full dose, an' he still didn't have no clue what that meant, an' that it was up to him now cos they needed to get away before anyone spotted them in fancy dress and wanted to know what they were doing. He sposed they meant they was sposed to be off-duty by now cos they'd been chatting to him for almost an hour an' not taking any notice of anything else, except for looks around now and again, an' if some sergeant or other turned up he'd want to know what the fuck they were doing having tea with some kid what had obviously done a runner, an' not being out arresting someone for something or other cos they were still in uniform.
Anyway, this posh bloke what's his daddy now had asked him if he was really sure he wanted a daddy an' he'd said `yes' straight out like, though he didn't have a fucking clue why he'd said that, cos all he really knew about being a daddy's boy were that you got bummed an' he'd never wanted that. Seen it in porn on the computer of course, what kid hasn't, an' he'd thought it a well weird thing to do. As well as being dirty, disgusting and perverted, of course; an' though he wanked three or four times a day an' spunked every time now, so he sposed that made him dirty, but he weren't disgusting and perverted. No way!
Anyway, the bloke said it were good that he was looking for a daddy cos he was looking for a son, so they'd better get on and go home. He'd said he didn't want to go home, an' the bloke what's now his daddy had laughed and said not back to Leeds but to his place in Kensington, wherever that is. Well, sort of knows where it is now, don't he. Cos that's where he is now an' it's well posh!
An' soon as we got here, in a fucking taxi! Daddy said I should take all my clothes off so he could get a good look at me and then he was going to beat me.
Well, I said I ain't done nothin' wrong to get beaten for an' he laughed an' said after he'd beaten me he was pretty sure I would never do anything wrong, because a decent beating was good for a boy. He showed me this thing what looked like a table-tennis bat and told me to lean over this table and grip the edge tight, an' it didn't matter how loud I screamed cos no-one would hear me.
An' fuck me, did I scream! It hurt like what I've never been hurt before an' my arse is still fucking burning! But, thinkin' about it now, I sorta liked it in a weird way an' havin' his tongue in my mouth made me go so fucking hard!
He told me he is going to bum me - well he said `fuck me' but it's the same thing - cos, at my age, my arse is gonna be wonderfully tight, an' though he's not really into fucking boys cos he much prefers their cocks, he has to pop my cherry, an' if I find I like it he'll do it for me regular.
Don't know if I will like it, though, but somehow the idea is growing on me, so I'm not gonna mind when he tries. Can't wait for him to get at my cock proper, though, cos when he felt it I fucking loved it. I know that's really disgusting and perverted, but I don't give a fuck! He can have as much of my cock as he wants an' I hope he wants it loads!
An' this is really sick, but I want to get at his cock an' all! Ain't even seen it yet, but I know I'm gonna love it; an' this is how dirty, disgusting an' perverted I am I want it in my mouth! Yes, I do! I want to suck his cock, my daddy's cock, and have it spunk in my mouth. An' I ain't got a clue why I want that cos I never wanted anyone's cock in my mouth before, but I wants it now. Wants it real bad!
My arse ain't hurting so much now, praps that's that stuff he rubbed on it. Still feel it's all hot like, but it's me cock what's sorta hurtin' now. Not hurtin' hurting like, just sorta sayin' loud and clear that it needs seeing to, an' if daddy don't come an' see to it soon I'm gonna have to wank, but I don't think daddy'll like it if I do an' he'll probably whip my arse again an' I don't think me arse'll take another beating just yet.

`Come on, daddy, please. My cock needs you.' There, I said it, said it out loud an' all, an' I can't wait for him to feel it an' rub it an' suck it
Yeh, I want him to suck it! An' I hope he lets me spunk in his mouth an' all.
Got this weird feeling that being a boy for a daddy is gonna be so much better than livin' with that cunt of a step-dad in fuckin' Leeds!

 

I grunted with pleasure, and I wasn't faking it like I sometimes had to. Not often, but now and again I got one who really didn't know how to do it properly. They were usually the married ones, used to just sticking their cocks into cunt and getting it over and done with as quickly as possible before turning over and pretending sleep, thinking `Thank God that's over with for another week at least.' You know, never done it with a boy before, never had a proper fuck.

No, this one knew how to fuck a boy's arse properly; some long, slow, steady thrusts to get him to the point when he wanted it hard and fast, and then ramming it in deep for a bit before slowing down again and changing positions without ever getting cock out of me hole. I liked this one, had him up the arse several times, Thursday afternoons usually.
Bit over fifty and a shade fat round the middle, but most of them were by the time they got to that age, what with all the fancy food they ate, but I don't mind that; it was their cocks that counted and this guy had a nice thick one.
First time I'd gone with the guy I'd said to him that he had a nice cock and I hoped that he knew how to use it properly and the guy had grinned at me and said not to worry, it had to go in his wife's slit now and again but it was only really happy when it had a boy's hole to deal with, and when that hole was still only fourteen it was in its element. And he wasn't kidding! He made sure that every little ridge on his shaft was felt and appreciated, and the way he managed to get his helmet ridge to massage prostate was an absolute wonder. I wished the guy could fuck me bare, but that wasn't possible, of course. Well, it was possible, but it would be stupid to do it that way, I had cock inside me far too often to allow anyone inside without wearing a raincoat.
`Nothing like a nice, black young arse,' the guy had said when he did me first, `Surprisingly different to white ones.'
`What about yellow?' I'd asked, being cheeky like, and the guy had said they were okay, but black was best.
Course, I'd wanted to know why and the guy had said that black ones were a different design, didn't hang low and were rounder and firmer than white ones. Yellow ones, he reckoned, tended to be a bit on the plump side. Of course, yellow, white or black, if they were fourteen they were well worth getting your cock inside, but black was the best fuck, no doubt about it.
Well, I'm black, I'm fourteen and I'm a bloody good fuck and I got a fair few regulars to prove it.

Still wasn't really sure how I came to get started; well, not quite true cos I obviously knew who my first fuck was and how it happened, but I'm still wasn't at all sure why it happened.
Me brother, Harry, he's a waiter at this well posh Club up West and Harry's arse had always been anyone's. I'd been twelve and Harry fourteen when I'd worked out that Harry was making a few quid with his cock, and a few more with his arse. Harry had always been a bit limp-wristed and I'd caught him shaving once and asked what the fuck he was shavin' down there for. Harry had looked a bit sheepish, like, and told me that men liked boys better if they were smooth, and once word got round that there was this black kid of fourteen who was smooth as a baby and you could have his cock for a tenner and his arse for twenty, and if Harry fancied you then there was a good chance you could get both for free, then, well, he got so popular he gave up wanking.
Well, naturally, I told me brother that he was a fucking queer and no way was I gonna get anywhere near him, shaved smooth or not.
Not that I cared that Harry was selling his arse, it was his arse wasn't it, so if he wanted to sell it that was up to him, but I weren't that way. Course, I told Harry that I wouldn't let on what I knew to parents or anything cos that wouldn't be right, and Harry had said that was fine and if, when I started wanking, I wanted to just do it and not worry that they shared a room, that was fine by him.
That had been good, cos I was already wanking even though I couldn't spunk yet, and it was a real pain sometimes when I fancied one and didn't do it cos Harry was in the room.
Then, when Harry left school, he got this job at the Club and Harry was quite open about the fact that he got it with his arse, well open with me, anyway. Never told anyone else, did he. Seemed Harry had gone for his interview and the bloke had said he wondered how suitable Harry would be, and Harry, being Harry, had asked how suitable he needed to be and when the bloke said `very suitable' Harry had asked him if he wanted to find out, so instead of being asked stupid questions he got fucked instead and got the job on the spot.
Course, Harry didn't just put plates on tables cos there's quite a few blokes at his Club what likes a bit of boy after their meals and Harry was well happy to serve up what they wanted, and, fair play, he's doing pretty well out of it an' all.
Anyway, I gets this text from Harry about six months ago an' it says there's a bloke having dinner at the Club what wants a boy my age to take for a day out tomorrow. Well, I texts to Harry that I'm up for a day out but if the bloke thinks he's gonna get at my cock he's gonna be disappointed an' I ain't goin' if he's likely to get shitty about it. Harry said that the sort of people he gets at his Club just don't get shitty about things like that, an' even if I wore six pairs of briefs an' a jock strap I might still get a few quid out of it, so I went along with it, didn't I.

Bloke seemed fairly decent, about thirty something I spose, and definitely NOT from our side of the river, an' probably not from London at all from the way he spoke cos he were well posh. He were decent though, cos I told him straight out, soon as I met him outside Harry's Club where he were waitin' with Harry, that I knew what Harry was like but my cock was staying where it was inside me pants an' if that didn't suit him, well, no hard feelings like, but I was off home. Had to tell him that, didn't I, wouldn't have been fair not to.
Anyway, he didn't get shitty about it, just grinned and said that what happened to my cock was something between me and me cock, but if it was anything like the rest of me it would be a very nice cock and he hoped it would enjoy life in the future.
Well, he said that with a smile, didn't he, so I knew he'd have me cock if he could, but as there was no way he was gonna get it an' he wasn't gonna be shitty about it, an' as he'd offered me a day out then a day out I should have.
Well, I thought that was well decent of him, cos if a bloke thinks he's in with a chance of getting his end away and gets told, straight to his face, that he can forget all about that an' he still says that's fine and what did I want to do for a day out, then you got to think he's a decent bloke, haven't you.
Then he offered me a fag like, from a fuckin' silver cigarette case, yeh, straight up, but he don't have one from there himself. Oh, no, he's got this other case hasn't he, and that one's fuckin' gold! Said he smokes Turkish ones himself, but thought I'd probably puke on the spot if I smoked one of them so he's bought some normal ones for me, an' I thought, fuckin' hell, even if he does want me cock what he's not gonna get, he's still a pretty decent guy.
Well, I said I fancied goin' up on the London Eye for starters if that was alright with him an' he said `fine' and to finish me fag and we'd get a taxi there. Fuckin' taxi! Never been in one of them in me life!
Then we's up on the Eye, an' fuck me, is that high or what! An' I finds meself thinking that I can see why Harry's into doin' what he does at that Club cos this guy's well decent an' if I was into givin' cock I wouldn't mind him havin' it at all.
I ain't, or weren't then anyway, into givin' cock, so it were only a random thought like, an' fair play to the bloke, he never even hints that he'd like me cock, an' I thought that were good of him an' all, cos even though I'd told him no way, I still expected him to make some sort of effort to get what he wanted.
Anyway, we comes off the Eye an' walks along the river for a bit then sits on one of them benches what they has all along there, an' he get me a coke an' a coffee for him an' we has another fag, an' he says he's sorry that it's only coke but they'd definitely get shitty if he tried to get me a beer, an' I were thinkin' what a nice guy he were an' I sorta wished I could let him have a go at me cock cos it would be only fair like, cos he was tryin' to give me a good time, weren't he. But, like I said, I weren't into givin' cock then, so I tried to stop thinkin' about it, an' when he said how did I fancy takin' one of them cruise boat things up the river I were all for it cos that's not the sorta thing I'd ever get the chance to do.
Had a fuckin' fancy restaurant thing on it an' all, an' he gets me this well good munchies, some fancy Italian stuff what was well good, an' he slips the waiter a twenty an' the waiter don't notice me havin' a glass of wine with it, an' that were well fuckin' cool of him!
An' then, when we's finished munchin' he calls the waiter over an' slips him another fuckin' twenty. An' the fuckin' waiter says, `At the stern, sir, and would you care for me to bring your coffee there, or would the young man prefer something other?' An' the bloke says coffee would be fine, and was it possible to slip a napoleon, whatever that is, into it an' the waiter smiles an' pockets a third twenty!
Well, we's at the back end of the boat havin' a fag an' that coffee, an' fuck me, the bleedin' stuff nearly blew me head off! Turns out that napoleon stuff's brandy! An' I'm really thinkin' now this bloke deserves me cock cos he's really lookin' after me an' I hadn't expected nothin' like this!
An' would you fuckin' believe it? I even find meself bonin' up at the idea! An' I had to get a real grip on meself, didn't I, cos I were thinkin' that if he even made the slightest hint, then I was gonna tell him he could go for it, an' that just wasn't me!
But he don't mention nothin' about cock, just says he's havin' a really nice day and I'm well good company an' thanks me for bein' with him. An' I'm feelin' well bad now for tellin' him to his face that there was no way he was gettin' me cock cos he hadn't even tried to put his arm round me shoulder or nothin', so he must have thought me a right cunt an' here he was bein' well nice.
Well, we's on the way back an' havin' another fag an' he asks what I fancy doin' next, an' fuck me, I asks him if he lives in London. I mean, what a weird thing to say! But he don't seem to think it's weird cos he just says no, he doesn't, an' he's stayin' at a friend's place in Kensington.
Well, I know that's well expensive an' all, an' I'm thinkin' fuckin' hell, he must be loaded, but what I says is that we can go back there if he's had enough of cartin' me around like.
Don't know why the fuck I said it, but I knew the moment the words was out me mouth that I'd as good as told him he could get at me cock if he wanted, an' I thought what the fuck did I say that for? An' then I thought, bollocks, why not? Harry don't have no problems with it, so fuck it, why not give it a try? Can always say that's enough, take me back if I don't like it, an' I knows he's the sorta guy who ain't gonna force himself or nothin'.
But bugger me, all he says is, `Are you sure, Jason?', an' fuck me, what I says is, `Well sure.'
An' fuck me, we gets off the boat an' he gets another fuckin' taxi to this Kensington place, an' I ain't kiddin' the place just screams `money', an' when we gets inside the apartment fuckin' apartment? It's three times the size of our house in Brixton! He says' what you want to do?' an' I tells him I knows what he wants an' I ain't sayin' `no' no more.
An' he says `thank fuck for that' an' starts gettin' me kit off, an' then he stops an' apologises for bein' in such a rush, an' I tells him not to worry cos he must have nearly busted a gut keepin' his hands off me all the time, an' now he don't have to an' he can do everythin' he wants.
An' then he's got me bollock naked an' he's runnin' his hands all over me an' it feels fuckin' ace an' I knows what Harry likes about that sort of thing now, an' bugger me, but I'm reachin' for his fuckin' zip cos I wants his cock in me hand. Well, I gets it out an' it's fuckin' big an' all cos it's well hard, an' I likes what it feels like, an' then I'm on me fuckin' knees an' takin' it in me mouth!
He lets me suck him for a bit, then pulls me up an says what he really wants to do is take me to bed an' I tells him that what he really, really wants to do is stick his cock up my arse, an' he asks me what I thinks about that an' I tells him he's welcome to try but it ain't my fault if he can't get that great, fat thing inside me hole cos it's only been used for shitting with up till now.
Well, he don't rush nothin' does he. Takes me in the bathroom first an' gives me crack an' hole a well good washin' an' then he takes me in the bedroom an' gets down to things.
Gettin' sucked for the first time is well mind-bending, but it ain't nothin' to what havin' tongue in yer arse is like! Then he gets some slippery stuff on his fingers an' pokes them up me hole while he's suckin' me. Does it well careful like, one at a time an' it don't hurt hardly at all, an' when he's got three fingers in an' wiggled them about a bit an' touched somethin' inside me what makes me feel like me balls is gonna burst, he gets me on me back, lifts me legs up an' puts his cock where his fingers have been.
That did hurt, but not that much. Told me after he used some special lube stuff what's designed for doin' first time boys, sort of dulls the pain a bit. Weren't no pain when he was properly in though! Fuckin' amazin'!
Fucked me three times that afternoon, different position each time an' I loved all of it!
Put me in a taxi home when he finished, an' a taxi from there to Brixton ain't cheap! An' he said thank you for being such an amazing boy and that I was one of the best fucks he's ever had and he really hoped he wouldn't be the only fuck I ever had.
Well no chance of that was there! Not now I knew what gettin' fucked was like!
Just before the taxi came he slipped me five twenties as a thank you present an' said that if I did feel like havin' cock in me again then I should talk to Harry about it, as there were a few gentlemen at the Club who'd be very happy to get their cocks in fourteen year old black arse, an' that what he'd given me was the basic goin' rate.

Well, I were gobsmacked weren't I! I mean, I'd gone out in the mornin' determined me cock was stayin' inside me pants an' finished up gettin' fucked three times an' pocketin' a hundred quid for it! An' I thought, fuck me, no wonder Harry likes his job so much!
Told Harry about it when he got home from work an' he were chuffed as fuck for me. Slept with him that night. Didn't fuck or nothin' cos Harry's a take only boy an' so am I, for now anyway, but he did give my cock the most amazin' suckin' an' he swallowed me spunk an' all, an' that were fantastic. Done that for him loads now an' I loves it!
Had me first bloke from Harry's Club the week after. Can't do it at the Club like what Harry does cos I'm under-age an' they don't do nothin' what's not legal there, but they got this place nearby, think it belongs to one of the Members, an' I gets taken there for fuckin'. Usually goes there three times a week with regulars, more if there's a new one or one of me regulars can't wait for his turn, an' I got the best part of ten grand in me bank now! Some of them tip well on top of the hundred, specially if I give them a real good time.
They're gonna make me a waiter when I'm legal so I'll be able to carry on earning till I'm eighteen at least. Different Members, of course, cos the ones what does me now is the ones what likes their boys young, but Harry says there's a fair few who go with up to twenty even, so long as they stay proper smooth an' stuff.
Well, that ain't gonna be no problem is it. Harry an' me waxes each other to keep us proper smooth, though, fuck me, does it sting when you does your balls, but don't have to do them too often thank goodness. Puts moisturising cream on our legs so they stay soft to the touch as well as smooth an' Harry says if he was into putting his cock inside arse, then mine would be like the Channel Tunnel now!
Like I said, we sleeps in the same bed now and does stuff with each other, cos even if you been out working you can still do with a bit of cock in your mouth when you get home, an' with me bein' fourteen an' Harry sixteen, we don't have to worry about runnin' out of spunk. And we can both sprout boners, no problem hehe.

 

"Ah, gentlemen; may I first thank you for attending this little gathering. It is, as you are all aware, the tenth anniversary of the launch of the CFMS Programme, and I thought it fitting to celebrate the undoubted success of that programme with dinner at the Club rather than a tedious and alcohol free meeting in the Office.
Ah, Edward, yes, gin and tonics all round I think, and, of course, gentlemen, you may smoke if you so wish."

"I'm sorry, Sir Martin, but smoking is not permitted inside the Club. It is the law, Sir, and has been for many years now."

"Bugger the law, Edward."

"Very well, Sir Martin."

"And send Harry to us in twenty minutes, if you'd be so kind."

"Of course, Sir Martin."

"Don't know what the world's coming to."

"The poor chap's only trying to do his job, Director, no need to bite his head off."

"Mea culpa, Covert; but really, when did the law have anything to do with the Department."

"Hopefully never will, Director."

"Well said HR, well said indeed.
Ah drinkies, well done Edward. And don't take it too hard, there's a good chap. Just switch on the air conditioning if the smoke bothers you."

"Yes, Sir Martin."

"Gentlemen, I raise my glass to you all in gratitude for the success you have made of the CFMS Programme. MCOOTIL and the prep school thing are working splendidly, I understand. Barely a boy in a decent school who has to do his own thing now I believe."

"Indeed so, Director, P and R are very content."

"Excellent. Not all that often we manage to please you chaps.
What about the two new things, Research? Any indications as yet?"

"As I understand it, Director, the initial guinea pig trials have gone splendidly. There is, however, a small problem with both CIMAP and IWAD in that, as yet, our boffin chaps have not managed to build in any age limitation as they have with the established two, and, as with the original CFMS, neither is in any way reversible."

"And that means what, Research?"

"That we are somewhat uncertain as to the long term effects, Director. Something to do with self-correcting factors in the genetic make up, I believe."

"Meaning what?"

"That self-correcting factors in the body normally isolate and neutralise anything out of the ordinary, prevents mutations and that sort of thing. CFMS in its original state, and both CIMAP and IWAD now, seem to appear as normal once part of the body's system and therefore self-correcting factors ignore them. With the other two the boffins were able to build in age and development elements that made them appear as abnormal at the appropriate time, and the self-correcting factors promptly got to work."

"Fascinating. And this means what?"

"We cannot be certain, Director, but the best guess is, that in the case of both CIMAP and IWAD, there will, towards the termination of adolescence, be an increasing tendency towards a reversal of roles and that completely new substances will be formed in the body."

"These being what?"

"In the case of CIMAP, Director, it is believed there will be a production of IWAFMC and in the case of IWAD it will be IWAB."

"These being?"

"I Want Arse For My Cock and I Want A Boy, Director."

"They seem harmless enough. No cause for concern there.
Ah, Harry. I say, Harry, have rather brief shorts become the norm for waiters in the Club now?"

"My apologies, Director. I'm afraid I took it upon myself to ask the Secretary if he'd be so kind as to allow Harry to dress in this manner, just for tonight. It is a tenth anniversary celebration of CFMS and as it was a pair of exceptionally splendid legs that got me fully committed to the Programme in the first place, and Harry does have really splendid legs, I felt it fitting, in a way, if they were on display for us to admire."

"Ah, Edwardson, our original Subject A. Yes, I do recall many of your communications waxing lyrical on the nature of Subject B's legs.
I have no objections at all; in fact, Harry, were you able to shorten them even more I have no doubt that Mr. Edwardson would be most appreciative."

"I don't think that would be possible, Sir Martin, not without the possibility of revealing more than just leg."

"Going commando are you, Harry boy? Jolly well done! Pretty sure none of the gentlemen here would object to catching a glimpse of something while you're serving. Might improve the flavour of the sausage and mash, eh, what?"

"Very well, Sir Martin."

"Just take the orders while we chat, Harry. No secrets from a boy with legs like yours, eh. You have signed the Act, haven't you?"

"Of course, Sir Martin."

"Splendid, splendid. Now, Edwardson, sorry to hear about your father, by the way."

"Not at all, Sir Martin, it was some time ago now. Seems that he felt having a heart attack was preferable to gassing me. Have to say I agreed with him."

"Bit of a pain most of the time, but did the right thing in the end. Shows decent breeding, that.
Now do tell us about your guinea pig and CIMAP."

"Wonderful stuff, Sir Martin. The guinea pig was Harry's younger brother, absolutely delicious boy. When I first met him he told me, straight out, that his cock was not up for grabs and I had no doubt at all that he meant it. Six hours later I was fucking his brains out.
Don't know if the stuff had any lasting effect though as I've not been in London since till today."

"Begging your pardons, sirs, but I can confirm that the effects are definitely long lasting, and that Jason keeps several Members very happy on a regular basis."

"Does he indeed? Well, thank you for imparting that information to us, Harry. Very valuable. Very valuable indeed."

"Thank you, Sir Martin."

"Not at all, not at all. Now, Chalmers, our original Subject B. What can you tell us about IWAD?"

"First rate stuff, Director, absolutely first rate."

"Jolly good. How's the bishop, by the way?"

"In excellent health, thank you, Director. As you know, he dropped all opposition when the Synod changed the wording from `Holy Matrimony' to `Holy Union' just after CFMS got going. He was a little concerned, at first, about the age of Alex, my guinea pig, but eventually shrugged his shoulders and supposed it was the Will of God."

"Will of the Department, more like, eh, what? But no problems with your guinea pig?"

"None whatsoever, Director. Took him a day or so to try to work out why he wanted a daddy, but then he gave up trying to work anything out and just got on with being a son."

"Excellent, excellent. Now, Research, I suggest a further trial of both, say fifty guinea pigs for each?"

"That number would certainly provide valuable information, Director. And may I assume we are confining these trials to the lower classes?"

"What else?"

"Thank you, Director, that does simplify matters. As far as the former item is concerned we can largely leave the guinea pigs to their own devices; we need do no more than keep track of them and observe their activities. The latter item, however, presents more of a problem as the guinea pigs will, to all intents and purposes, disappear from view."

"Not a problem, I think, Research. Covert can be of assistance here. There are, I believe, Covert, a few cabinet Ministers, some Front Bench Opposition and prominent Backbenchers, not to mention a Lord or two who have needed considerable looking after. And more than a few senior chaps in the Church who find it quite difficult keeping their cocks in their cassocks when choirboys are around. Save us a lot of time and trouble if they took in a guinea pig instead of being awkward. Can be done, you think, Covert?"

"Without a doubt, Director. Someone provides them and we'll place them."

"Jolly good show. Well done everyone. Now we should enjoy our meals and hope that Harry has something special to show us, eh, what?
And gentlemen, one more toast, `To Britain Once More Leading The World'."

"To Boys, Beatings and Buggery, Director."

 

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