Lord Byron 09 - Trouble Brewing.

John Courtney


Over the next few weeks Simon and Chris enjoyed themselves a lot together. But Simon never really took to the spanking fetish that Chris so desired. It was quite clear that he didn't get off on this kind of play whereas Chris enjoyed it. Because of this Chris continued to have occasional meetings with Byron. Simon McLeod became a good lover and quite expert at attempting new ways of pleasuring Chris in bed. Chris started to get quite effeminate and even started scribbling his name as Chris McLeod -- he liked to think of Simon as his husband.

The English Spring didn't provide the same cover of darkness as the Winter had for late evening romps in the outfield so Byron brought Chris over to Brian's place after school a few times. They never left together but met up near the apartment. The first time they were there Chris was amazed at how developed Byron's set-up with Brian was.

"I wish me and Simon had a place of our own!" he said.

"One day you will!" Byron muttered as he pulled the boy towards him for a pre-spanking kiss.

"I doubt it!" Chris said sadly.


"I don't know!" Chris said, "it's just, you know, Simon enjoys fucking me, but I don't think he'll spend the rest of his life with me!"

"Do you think he's getting tired of you already?" Byron asked.

Chris nodded slowly in reply. Byron noticed sadness in the young man's eyes. He decided that it would be inappropriate to spank the youth that day!

"Let's just go to bed!" Byron suggested and he led Chris into Brian's bedroom.

As they lay in the bed together, Byron explained that relationships were complicated and often went through good and bad periods -- Chris understood this because he compared the situation between himself and Simon as to between his parents. Chris had never understood that queer people had relationships and that these were largely similar to heterosexual ones. The two of them fell into a light sleep together and didn't hear Brian coming in.

When Brian came through the door, the first thing he noticed was Byron's schoolbag. He smiled to himself wondering what the evening had in store for him, but stopped dead when he saw a second, unfamiliar schoolbag, beside Byron's. He crept up to the bedroom door and peeked in, Byron was sleeping soundly with Chris draped across his slim black chest. Brian smiled, they looked the picture of peaceful innocence -- and then he realised how dangerous the situation might be! Looking at Chris Watts, Brian could clearly see that the lad was far too young to be where he was.

"He's no more than fifteen or sixteen!" Brian said to himself, "Fuck it, does that Byron chap have any sense at all?"

Brian walked across the room and pulled Byron's shoulder.

"Wake up!" he called.

Byron opened his eyes; they felt heavy after the mid-afternoon snooze.

"Hi Brian! What's with you mate?"

"What the fuck is he doing here?" Brian snapped irately as he pointed at Chris.

"He's sleeping!" was Byron's cocky reply.

"He's too fucking young to be sleeping here! Now get up and get him out of here fast!"

Brian turned to leave the room, there was to be no negotiation on the issue of Chris staying or leaving. Byron woke the youth and Chris understood, he kissed Byron goodbye and slipped out quietly through the door without saying as much as a word to Brian.

"What's the problem?" Byron asked as Brian read his newspaper on the sofa.

"Do you understand anything about laws governing homosexuality in this country?" Brian asked as he lowered his paper.

"Not really!"

"Well, it's time that you realised that gay-rights are backward here. At present, only consenting males over the age of twenty-one are entitled to enter sexual relationships with each other!"

"I thought it was eighteen!" Byron protested.

"And what age was that bloke with you?"

"Chris is nearly eighteen!" Byron lied.

"What does 'nearly' mean?"

"He's sixteen!" Byron admitted.

Brian put his paper aside and stood to embrace his lover.

"Byron!" he began, with a paternal tone to his voice, "what you're doing is very high risk. You can't just fuck anything you want out there and your pal counts as a minor in sex so you could find yourself in trouble!"

"But I'm only eighteen and you could find yourself in trouble as well!"

"That's true," Brian admitted, "if you were a girl there would be no problem, but we are both male so, my relationship with you could send me into one of those at her majesty's pleasure places!"

"So why do you risk it?"

"Because I love you!"

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

Brian lay on the bed with his knees in the air; he knew that he was about to get just what he wanted from Byron, a rough fuck. And he got it! Byron spread some of Vaseline on Brian's hole and slowly pried open the lips with the head of his dick. Brian moaned loudly as the head popped in.

"Shut up bitch" Byron growled, "Your hole is so loose you probably can't even feel it, but I'll make sure you feel my big black dick fucking you!"

Once inside, he grabbed hold of Brian's hips tightly and fucked him, slamming in and out roughly, growling and slapping Brian's smooth round arse. Brian grunted and groaned,

"Oh yeah, go for it, FUCK ME BYRON!" he roared.

"Yeah, you like when I'm rough don't you? You little faggot! Huh?"

"Oh, yes, give it to me. Your dick feels so good up there!"

"I'll show you what your arse is for Brian boy, for taking the Black Cobra, take it, boy, yeah!"

"Oh Byron, master, use my hole, sir, fuck me!"

Byron paused; he looked down into Brian's face and asked.

"Can you explain why being with Chris is so dangerous?"

Brian smiled -- "I have a foot of dick up my butt and you think I should give you a lecture on British law! Sometimes I just don't understand you Byron!"

"Tell me Brian, what's the big problem? If I am a minor still and Chris is a minor then how can there be a problem?"

"There is a problem Byron -- now could you finish fucking me and then we'll talk!"

"Tell me first and then I'll finish the job!"

Brian knew that there was no point of in arguing with his lover so he resigned to explain the situation as best as he could, "the problem is quite simple, neither of you has reached the age of consent for gay sex -- that's true, but you are over eighteen and therefore can be tried in a crown court for the offence, Chris would be sent to a children's court and get sympathy as the raped victim of a predatory adult."

"Are you calling me a predatory adult?" Byron was offended by the remark.

"I am calling you what the papers and the court staff would call you if you ever got caught with him. The bottom line is you would be treated as a sexual offender and a pervert; you would go to jail, be treated for your sexual depravity and never allowed to forget that you are a pervert. Chris on the other hand would be given a psychiatrist and a social worker, he would be taught to hate you and resent what you made him do..."

"Would he go to prison?"

"Probably not, you see, he's too young to be considered anything other than a victim..."

"But I haven't reached the legal age of consent either so why am I am not a victim?"

"Because you're over eighteen!"

"This isn't fair!" Byron protested.

"Maybe not, but that's the way things are and Mrs. Thatcher has no intention of addressing the issue, so you'll just have to put up with things as they are."

"And it would be okay if I was a girl?"

"No -- with Chris and you it wouldn't matter! If you were a girl things with me it would be okay because we're both over eighteen!" Brian explained.

"Hang on a minute," said Byron with a smile, "what do you mean if I was a girl? It's YOU that has a big fat willy up his bum which makes you the little girl here!"

"That's a valid point, but I wouldn't describe myself as a little girl either!"

"So it's okay for a young man of eighteen to shaft an old doll like you?"

"Less of the 'old doll' bit please!" Brian protested.

Byron reached down and spread Brian's legs wider, "Okay then old doll, time to get back to the fucking!" -- and he lunged in and out, occasionally slowing down to keep from cumming, so he could shaft his old doll for as long as possible. "If I'm going to be an abuser I want to abuse my favourite old doll's hole!"

All Brian could do is whine, moan, and sometimes beg for it, as his lover abused his back door. The sweat dripped off of them both until the bed was drenched with sweat and the slops that dribbled out of Brian's arse from every withdrawal of Byron's pounding rod. Finally, Brian could no longer take the relentless assault on his prostate, and without touching his dick, he shot huge gobs of cream all over the bed.

"Oh, I'm cumming, Byron, AAGH!" he panted as his now hole twitched and gripped Byron's dick, than after a few sharp jabs into him, Brian felt Byron's cum filling him up in spurts that dribbled out his hole and ran down his legs.

Byron pulled his softening dick out of Brian's hole, and pulled him over his knee, he gave him a hard spank that stung.

At lunchtime next day Peter Hamilton called Craig Ross in the canteen. As Craig approached his one-time friend he had no idea of how close the information he was about to receive would bring him to getting full revenge on Byron.

"Did you hear the latest about our nigger friend?" Peter asked with a caustic smile on his lips.

"Nope!" Craig chirped as he pulled up a chair to sit down.

"I didn't call you to sit with me shit-for-brains!" Peter snapped, he still couldn't forgive Craig for his momentary lapse into homosexuality, "I called you over to give you some information and that's all."

Craig began to stand and move slowly away. Since he had lost Peter's friendship he hadn't managed to find anybody else who was willing to pal with him. Before Peter, his only other friend was John Keegan -- and he was history!

"It appears," continued Peter, "that Boy George has got himself a little Culture Club!"

This went straight over Craig's head -- he had no idea that Peter was referring to Byron and the third formers.

"Culture Club? That's a pop-group isn't it?"

Peter sighed -- "a culture can also be a group of bacteria, lowlife, faggots!"

"What are you getting at Peter?"

"Patience Craig, be patient and you will discover what you need to know!"

Craig was glad that he wasn't a friend of this plonker anymore.

"George Lord has gathered a little culture of third form faggots around himself..."

"Really?" Craig was both amazed and delighted by this information, he pulled the chair up again so that he could sit but Peter gave him a disdainful look that stopped him in his tracks.

"Sorry, I forgot!"

"You didn't hear this from me," Peter continued, "but Simon McLeod and Chris Watts are doing tricks for George Lord." With that Peter stood and without as much as looking at Craig, he walked away.

Craig Ross didn't need any more information -- he had enough to go on as it stood.