© all rights reserved

This is a work of total fiction and is intended for adult readers ONLY!!!

IMPORTANT READERS' NOTE: This is NOT a wam-bam sex story. BUT, there is a Hell of a lot of sex in it too. The PLOT is what moves the story and will guide you to what I hope are excellent sexual encounters between boys aged 11 through 18 and with some adults. Please be patient with this first chapter as I take you through the history and settings that will underlie the story throughout what I hope are many, many chapters. There's sex in every chapter, but give the whole story a chance instead of just scanning ahead and only reading the sex scenes.

Your comments are strongly encouraged and hoped for:


St. Barnabas Academy is a highly regarded all-boys boarding school for grades 7-12, located in the affluent Flintridge/La Canada area of greater Pasadena in Southern California. It was founded in the early 1900s by wealthy Protestant industrialists who had moved their families from the blue nosed areas of the Northeast. The founders, themselves, had attended the finest Eastern boarding schools and they modeled St. Barnabas after them.

Eschewing the conventional Spanish style architecture of the greater Los Angeles Basin, St. Barnabas was nestled up against the base of the San Gabriel Mountains and its buildings were made to look resemble the castle-like structures from the schools of their boyhood. The regions high susceptibility to earthquakes made all-stone construction both impractical and dangerous. Therefore, in order to create the desired appearance, the founders spared no cost in having a rebar-type reinforced stone facade, quarried from the nearby foothills, virtually laminated onto the side of the heavy wooden beam constructed building frames.

In the end, the original campus of St. Barnabas was laid out in a traditional quad design. The seven five-story dormitories lined the farthest perimeter and backed up toward the base of the mountains. From there, the downward sloped and garden terraced grounds led to a massive four-story main class room building with a steeple turret at each of its four corners. To the far left was an authentic replica of a large Anglican chapel, and to the far right was the formidable dining hall, which also housed the administrative and records offices.

The founders were truly proud of the creation of glorious replica they had created, and they hired the finest headmaster and teaching staff available, bringing many of them to California from their old schools back East. The first student body was populated almost exclusively with their own sons, the sons of their colleagues and the sons of other well-to-do families throughout the state. St. Barnabas was and remains today, the premier West Coast private boarding school.

St. Barnabas quickly established its traditions including the many student societies that have developed over the years and, though in many respects they are exclusionary and divisive, the faculty has always been strongly supportive of them---it's the Barnabas way! Of course, the faculty would never have been supportive of one secret society that grew up in early 70s and continues strongly at St. Barnabas today. In fact, if they ever knew of it, this group would immediately be disbanded and its leaders expelled. But it has successfully existed in the strictest secrecy. Injury and even death has befallen those members who would divulge its existence and to outsiders who either innocently, or with intention, have discovered it.

During the 30+ years that it has existed, the reach of this society has extended far beyond the walls of St. Barnabas---to the campuses of the elitist universities that the vast majority of its graduates attend---to private industry where many members are leaders---to the political corridors of power---indeed, all the way to the White House.

Such is the reach and the power of THE ORDER OF THE ROPE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Coming on the heels of the tumultuous 1960s, the 1970s were an excellent time to be an adolescent boy in Southern California. So much freedom---so many vices---and the promise of so much sex!!! Yet an early teen was still nothing more than that, and was generally on the outside looking in, when it came to all of the varieties of "forbidden fruit" that were so openly talked about and lusted after. A boy losing his virginity before the age of 17 was far from commonplace, especially when compared to the average age over the past decade. Of course, back in the 70s and before, virginity was considered a strictly heterosexual distinction.

The sexual revolution of the 60s and 70s, while certainly being more tolerant of gay lifestyles, was a comparative Ice Age in view of the open acceptance the gay community has enjoyed during the past 10 years. But in the 70s when the Order was founded, no greater secret could be kept by an adolescent boy or an adult male politician or captain of industry, than the fact that they were gay. There was an especially telling expression that was born in that era that went: "It's better to be caught in bed with a dead woman---than with a live boy!" The threat of or the actual exposure of an adolescent boy's homosexuality resulted in ostracism and in many cases suicide. But, in the adult world and in particular among those who constituted the best and the brightest, the knowledge of and ability to prove who was a homosexual was a powerful weapon indeed. J. Edgar Hoover, a closeted homosexual himself, trained FBI agents to seek out gay men of influence and use the threat of "outing" them to serve the Bureau's interests. Men could be enslaved by the threat of exposure and would do or pay anything to have their dark secrets kept!

The 10 Societies:

Over the years 10 fraternal Societies had developed at St. Barnabas for the purpose of recruiting members from each high school class to promote the highest achievements in academics and athletics--"Strength of Mind and Body" was the school motto. Over the course of the school year, a series of competitions called "Wars" would be held between each of the Societies to determine the best among them. Academics comprised 65% of each War and athletics the other 35%. There have never been any formal athletic teams at St. Barnabas and the athletic events of a War were taken primarily out of the events of the Olympics: track and field, gymnastics, wrestling and swimming. Yet many St. Barnabas graduates went on to have stellar collegiate athletic careers and more than a few became Olympic medalists.

Of the 10 Societies, the Romans, Greeks, Egyptians and Turks were the first and clearly the most prestigious. In the over 100 years since St. Barnabas was founded, only 2 of the "Lesser Societies" have ever won more Wars by the close of a school year than one of the "Big 4". The heads of many of the largest companies, leading politicians and even a President hailed from the Big 4. It was the ardent wish of every entering student to become one of their members.

Intense study group activity was a hallmark of the Societies and as only the best students were admitted to the St. Barnabas, the Societies had a very level playing field on which to compete for initiates. The wild card however was athletics---how to know who were the best among a new group of students? Therefore, a preview of sorts was developed during which each class would be required to undergo a rigorous physical fitness program in the early weeks of each school year.

Known as the "Decathlon" because of the 10 events involved, the entire student body was physically tested under the watchful eyes of each Society's members, so that more informed recruiting decisions could be made. Certainly, superior academics would offset a lack of athletic prowess and in some cases athletic superiority could overcome a lesser academic performance. But the ideal initiate that each Society sought was well balanced between the two disciplines.

By far the most crucial classes to be scrutinized were the 7th grade and 8th grade. Only in the 9th grade did one become a full-fledged member of a Society, but each Society recruited 7th grade "Initiates" who would strive to go on to become 8th grade "Novices" before hopefully becoming members as freshmen. In a perfect world, the coffers from a 7th grade year would spill over to become the 8th grade and so on, so that a successful annual 7th grade recruitment could, in theory, keep the pump constantly primed.

However, the system did not work that perfectly. The annual combination of washouts, student transfers and occasionally even deaths, required each Society to be prepared to shore up its ranks in any given class, at any given time. While raiding the membership of another Society was strictly prohibited, recruitment actively occurred from other Society's washouts, transfer students and, over time, the substantially growing number of students who were not in any Society and who were left to compete in what came to be known as the Open Group.


It was the second week of the school year and the Decathlon was in full swing when Bobby Thomas, a 5' 7" 125 lbs. 15-year-old sophomore at St. Barnabas, ran down the old stone-floored corridor of Philosophers Hall between 3rd and 4th period like his hair was on fire. Given the speed at which he ran it might well have been his pubic hair that was ablaze! In the old days when the dress code was in force, the required dress shoes, dark slacks, white shirt, school tie and blazer would never have allowed him to maintain his speed as he rounded the empty hallway corners in his Nike basketball shoes, jeans and tee shirt. As he approached the group study rooms, 8 of which lined the hallway preceding the main entrance to the Library and 8 of which lined the hallway following it, he slowed to a fast walk so as not to draw attention from anyone looking out the windowed doors. At the 3rd room, he opened the door and quickly entered where he confronted the 3 boys inside.

"The 7th and 8th graders are about to go on the rope!" Bobby gasped as his lungs sucked hard for air and sweat ran from his dark short hair down the handsome features of his face, some stinging his bright blue eyes. "They'll be at it for 4 periods," he panted "we gotta move quick!"

"Calm the fuck down Thomas," we're way ahead of you Tipton Connors III replied sharply. "Tip" was a senior and was the leader of the Senior Group of the Turk Society, last year's overall Wars champion. Under the current demographics of St. Barnabas, there were 40 high school grade members in each Society that was divided into four 10-member groups representing each of grades 9 through 12. In addition, each Society had a 10-member group of 7th Grade Initiates and 8th Grade Novices. Therefore, the 10 Societies comprised 400 of the 800 high school student body, with the remaining half of the school being relegated to Open Groups.

Tip was 18 and a muscular 6' 2" weighing 185 lbs. He had blond hair, blue eyes and he was strikingly handsome. With him was Junior Group Leader Kyle Bartlett, 16 years old, a sturdy 5' 9'' 170 lbs., with brown hair and brown eyes. Kyle was battling a slight case of acne that was not in danger of scaring the classic features of his young face. Also present was Roger Thames, the 14-year-old leader of the Freshman Group, who had just spurted to 5' 6 120 lbs., and lost much of the black haired dark-eyed boyish innocent look of his prior years at St. Barnabas. With Bobby as the leader of the Sophomore Group, the combined leadership of the Turk Society was now assembled.

"Our guys have been studying them all morning and here's the current list of leading candidates," Bobby said as he handed Tip a sheet of paper containing a list of 40-50 boys from each of the 7th and 8th grades. Before Bobby had barged in on them, the others were scrutinizing a short list of freshmen and juniors from which they were trying to determine a candidate to fill the one vacancy in each of those classes that presently existed in Turk Society. The loss of Charles Jeffries in the Junior Group was the most painful given his stellar academic and athletic accomplishments. His father had become Ambassador to China over the past summer and he would be studying at St. Barnabas on a correspondence basis. In the freshman class, Eddie St.Clair had drowned in a boating accident some 10 days before school started. Eddie was well liked, but not the most gifted among his class. Still he would have been considered a superstar anywhere outside of the Big 4.

"OK let's go," Tip said "you know the drill we scope out the rope from four different angles. Watch damned carefully and take careful notes---no fuck ups like last year right Kyle?" Tip said condemningly.

"God Tip are you ever gonna let go of that," Kyle asked in a voice borne out of frustration and shame, "those two kids could have passed as twins!"

"Yeah, but they sure as Hell were different now weren't they Kyle," Tip snapped back "and you had a 50% chance to guess the right one and you fucked that up too you unlucky prick! If you weren't so well loved, you could have been washed out for that, you know?" Kyle shook his head sadly as they boys prepared to leave.

"The leaders from the rest of the Big 4 will cover the 3 periods of the rope after us, so we'll need to huddle up with them tonight after classes lights out," Kyle informed the group "we'll all meet in the Order room at 11:30, OK?" The boys all nodded their understanding as they headed off to the Physical Education Building across the Quad.

When the four leaders of the Turk Society entered the Gym, they saw a line of about 25 gym suit clad 7th grade boys and a line of 25 or so 8th graders on opposite sides of a heavily padded mat that was centered below a 2 inch thick climbing hanging 25 feet from the ceiling. They were just about to commence alternating between lines, as each boy would climb the rope as high as they could while one of the gym teachers held the rope taut while spotting for them, and another teacher duly recorded their performance.

If a boy successfully climbed the entire length of the rope, which almost all of them did, they would climb back down and then climb up again until they could no longer continue. 1 1/2 trips was about average, 2 was good and 3 or more was outstanding. Tip and the others positioned themselves around the perimeter of the mat, where observers from the lesser Societies and the Open Groups also stood.

Unlike the other observers, Tip and his 3 cohorts (and the leaders of the other Big 4 Societies who would follow them after this period was over) were not just looking to see how far each kid could climb. While that was certainly the performance to be evaluated for each Society's purpose, they were observing for a completely different reason. You see, the four leaders of each of the Big 4 were also among the members of the Order of the Rope, an ultra secret sub-group recruited exclusively from within the ranks of the Big 4 Societies. The rope performance of these 7th and 8th graders had a specific and crucial purpose for the Order's recruitment efforts.

One by one the young boys struggled up and down the rope pulling with their slender arms and pushing up with their sneakered feet, as the thick rope remained taut between their legs. Different boys used different techniques. Some used and inch worm technique while others took baby steps and still others seemed to slither along the rope. But all of the techniques had on unavoidable commonality---as each boy climbed, the front of his gym shorts and what lie beneath rubbed periodically against the coarse rope creating an unavoidable friction.

Not to all, but certainly to a few in each group of 20 or so climbers, the effect of this friction became noticeable and when it did, a candidate for the Order was identified. This is how had been since the day the Order was founded. Back in 1971, when Charles Ridgeway Gordon arrived as a sophomore transfer student from the storied grounds of Eton located outside of London near Windsor...

The Beginning:

Charlie Gordon was 11 years old in 1967 when his father was appointed as Ambassador to Great Britain. He and his family set off to London during the summer before Charlie's 6th grade school year. Given the rigors of their travel and entertainment schedule, the Gordons decided that their only child should attend an English boarding school somewhere nearby. No finer school existed than Eton. Founded in the 1400s, the typical age range at this all-boys boarding school is between 13 and 18. Exceptions are made for certain gifted and/or connected 11 and 12 year olds and, given his exemplary school record and his father's powerful connections, young Charlie was readily admitted. Standing only 5' tall and weighing a mere 85 lbs., the raven-hairdo dark brown-eyed boy with a strikingly handsome face, certainly did not look any older than his 11 years.

Unlike many of the young boys who enter Eton with fear and trepidation at being away from home for the first time, Charlie embraced the adventure of it. Besides, his folks were only a few minutes away and would visit and/or bail him out often. In no way at all did Charlie feel resentful---as if he were being dumped. Charlie also loved the long tux like school coat that hung almost robe like from his shoulders with its embroidered school crest. There was something about the tradition of the place and its castle-like buildings that fascinated the young boy.

The incoming class of "first years", like Charlie, attended a 2-day orientation before the rest of the student body arrived. Charlie and 3 other 11-year-olds were clearly the youngest of the more than 200 boys who were predominantly between 12-1/2 and 13 years of age. After being checked into their dormitories or "Houses", as they are known, the boys were taken on an extended walking tour of the campus. Following lunch they were given two hours of free time, during which Charlie met several of his house mates, one of which was his almost 13 year old room mate Nigel Newton.

Nigel was a somewhat portly lad with dirty blond hair and hazel eyes. He stood about 5'4" and his 125 lbs. consisted more of an excess of baby fat that muscle, though his stomach did not form a potbelly by any means. He was just sort of lumpy looking and his facial features were very cherubic. Since there were not many American students at Eton, Charlie quickly attained a certain celebrity status. "So how are you doing then, Yank?" Nigel asked as they shook hands for the first time.

The boys talked about their families and the political occupations of their fathers---Nigel's being a member of the House of Lords. Nigel, like Charlie, was not particularly fazed at having been sent away to school and they snickered at the weakness of the many boys they had seen with tear streaked faces that morning when orientation began. Nigel explained as best he could about what Eton was all about--especially the basic "dos and don'ts". In the end, the beginning of a solid friendship was well underway as the boys headed back for the continuation of their orientation.

The afternoon session ended with a tour of the physical education facilities. The boys were told that a physical fitness test would be administered to the "First Years" tomorrow and to all of the other students during the next week. Then they were shown the massive indoor and outdoor swimming pools. Charlie had always loved to swim and he couldn't wait to use these gorgeous pools. When the boys were dismissed for another 2-hour break before dinner, Charlie asked Nigel if he wanted to go swimming.

Nigel agreed and Charlie said, "Let's run back to our rooms and change into our trunks."

"No need of that Charlie," Nigel informed him "the pool custodian dispenses swim kit and towels." Charlie smiled at the convenience of the situation as the two boys returned to the Natatorium. When they entered they found that many of the other boys had come up with the same idea, as Nigel and Charlie got into the line of 20 or so. One by one, the grand fatherly looking pool custodian quickly assessed the physical attributes of each boy and then handed him a properly sized speedo, goggles and a towel. After Charlie and Nigel received theirs, they walked into the spacious locker room to change.

As they walked through the doors, their eyes were filled with the sight of boys in various stages of undress. Neither boy was a stranger to this kind of scene and they, like the other boys in the locker room, were unabashed at checking out the private parts of all whom were on display. Charlie had never seen an uncircumcised penis before and, in fact, he didn't see anyone's whose penis looked liked his. When he turned naked to look at Nigel who also sported an uncircumcised penis, Nigel immediately comprehended the look of confusion on Charlie's face.

"But for your Yank accent Charlie, everyone would think you were Jewish" Nigel said as he grinned broadly at Charlie. The joke was lost on Charlie, however, as he continued inspecting Nigel while noting that Nigel was also checking him. Nigel's near 13-year-old penis looked much smaller than it really was against the backdrop of his large pudgy exterior. He was actually fairly well endowed for a lad his age and he had a noticeable layer of white downy fuzz above the top of his two-inch flaccid penis with the teardrop of extra skin hanging over its tip. In the sun lit room Charlie could also see a sprinkling of light brown hairs standing out from their soft downy surroundings. By comparison, Charlie's 11 year old genitals were totally devoid of hair or even fuzz. Though he was broad shouldered, his legs were rather thin and his penis appeared well hung as it rested down the front of his fully descended testicles that resided within his soft scrotum.

Many of the other 13 year olds and even some boys who were 12 had small patches of pubic hair adorning their developing penises and more than a few had become erect amid the other naked bodies that surrounded them. "Filthy!" Nigel exclaimed in disgust at the sight of one boy who was parading around with his penis at full mast. Charlie just smiled as he quickly pulled up his speedo before the mysterious tingling he was beginning to feel could turn into anything else.

While Nigel, being almost a year and a half older than Charlie had recently discovered the joys of self-gratification, Charlie was a true innocent. He had no appreciation for the event of his occasional erections and had no idea of the pleasure he was capable of feeling. Though he was no stranger to the sexual vulgarities of schoolyard banter, to young Charlie they were just dirty words and he had no understanding of their underlying concept.

After their vigorous swim, the boys returned to the locker room to shower and dress. While the sight of all of the adolescent nudity had no effect on Charlie, he noticed that Nigel's penis appeared to swell a little. Taking note of Charlie's observation, Nigel quickly moved from the shower and grabbed his towel, wrapping it immediately around him and walking out dripping wet. Given Charlie's state of childhood ignorance, he was no more capable of passing any moral judgment on Nigel than he was on the lone boy who now remained in the shower with him. The boy was among the larger of the First Years that Charlie had seen and he was standing under a showerhead at the steamy far end of the room. Charlie watched the large boy who was doing his best to keep his back to him to hide the fact that he was stroking the length of his erect penis with a soap sudsed fist. Just careful attention to hygiene, Charlie thought---nothing more. When the boy groaned, trying to mask it with a cough, and then leaned forward toward the wall, Charlie saw the spray of his ejaculation. Mistaking it for urine, Charlie disgustedly hurried toward his towel and quickly left the shower room.

After dinner, the boys were shown a movie and were then escorted back to their Houses for the evening. It was 9:30 and "lights out" was at 10:00, so after meeting several of their new housemates, Charlie and Nigel returned to their room to dress for bed. As they did the boys again exchanged glances at each other as Charlie asked Nigel "how come you and the others look so different from me, you know, down here?"

Nigel looked at Charlie pointing to his small penis, as he answered "they don't sharpen a boy's pencil as a rule, on this side of the Pond. Jewish boys do, of course, and some others but not most. I don't know that I've seen more than a handful of naked Yanks in my life, but all of you have had your sheaths removed."

"How does it work like that?" Charlie asked innocently.

Nigel thought for a second about the appropriateness of responding and then said, "Well, if I peeled it back it would look just like yours---here you see?" And Charlie watched as Nigel retracted his foreskin revealing a very shinny penis head that was distinctly more purple in color than his own. Charlie studied it intently from a strictly asexual standpoint as he noticed it begin to swell in the tender grip of Nigel's fingers. When Charlie looked up at Nigel's face he could see him begin to blush as he quickly released himself then pulled up his pajama bottoms and said "Enough anatomy class for the night, eh Charlie. Let's get off to bed shall we?"

Charlie put his PJs on as he said "Yeah, I'm beat---good night Nigel."

"Good night to you Charlie, sleep well" Nigel replied as he turned out the light and pulled up his covers, turning to his side facing away from the direction of Charlie's bed. After what seemed like an eternity to Nigel, he finally heard Charlie's deep slow breathing. "Thank Christ he's finally asleep," Nigel thought as he pulled down his pajama bottoms and took hold of his straining young erection. "God I need a wank!" Nigel thought as he slowly moved his foreskin back and forth across the top of his tender glans being careful not to shake the bed or bounce the springs. In private he would be stroking away at a demon's pace, but given that he was sharing a room for the first time in his life, good manners and common sense dictated that a quieter stroke be applied.

As he continued to gain momentum at the pleasure of his task, Nigel stuck his head under the covers briefly and deposited a healthy gob of saliva into his hand that he then used to amply lubricate the area between his foreskin and his penis head. The delightful slimy sliding sensation now took Nigel to the edge of his climax as his hips began to slowly thrust in rhythmic harmony to the beat of his fleshy hand as it slid joyously up and down his yearning shaft. He found it curious that the images in his head were of the locker room nudity and then of Charlie's circumcised penis. With only the faintest of whispers did Nigel then give voice to the arrival of his orgasm and the crushing intoxication of its power. "oooooohhh, aaaaaahhhh, oooohhh, yyyeessssssss" he purred while he choked back on the roars that his brain was telling him to sound. Into his free hand Nigel began to lightly spray the small volume of his tender young seed, still moaning softly as the warm spray landed lightly in his palm and the excellence of the moment began to sadly pass. God, but Nigel loved that feeling and wished it could last much longer than it ever did.

Nigel lay there panting for a moment before slowly rising with his back still to Charlie's bed as he reached toward the bed stand and grabbed several tissues from the box there. He had no way of knowing that Charlie had not been asleep when he commenced his masturbation and, that shortly into the process, Charlie had open his eyes and watched Nigel twitching around. Charlie had no idea what Nigel was doing, but for some reason he knew not to interrupt by asking. He also became keenly aware of the erection that quickly came to him as he listened to Nigel's muted erotic moans, though he did not know why he had become erect or why his body felt so---so---so electric! Finally, as he saw Nigel begin to rise and reach for the tissues, Charlie somehow knew to quickly turn away and pretend to be asleep---a pretense that soon became a reality as Charlie drifted off to sleep, his erection now instinctively cradled in the soft palm of his small hand.

The next morning when the boys awoke and began to dress, Charlie was reminded of Nigel's nocturnal gymnastics when he saw the wad of tissues on the bed stand next to Nigel's bed. As the memories of Nigel's erotic moans returned to Charlie, he had to quickly turn away to hide the sudden stiffening of his penis. He felt that same electricity from the night before, and for some reason that was unknown to him, Charlie wanted to hold onto his erection. He almost moaned out loud as the soft cotton front of his underwear rubbed against his 3-inch protrusion. Nigel didn't notice at all, and while Charlie remained erect as they walked to breakfast, his loose fitting trousers and the robe like school coat completely concealed his state of arousal.

During breakfast the boys were reminded that their physical fitness exam was today. They were instructed to report to the gymnasium with their athletic shoes and then go to the locker room storehouse where their "games kit" (British for gym clothing) would be issued to them. Charlie and Nigel lined up with the others and were handed a white tee shirt with the school crest emblazoned in the center, dark blue gym shorts, a jock strap and white socks. The boys then filed into the locker room to change in a scene that was very reminiscent of the Natatorium locker room before yesterday's swim. Although he did not become erect like several of the other boys, Charlie felt that strange sense of stirring in his hairless loins as the sights of other boys' nudity filled his eyes.

When Charlie and Nigel entered the Gym, they were put in different lines which led them to different stages of the day's physical fitness exam. Nigel's line began with a standing broad jump, while Charlie's began with a 25 foot climbing rope. Charlie had never climbed a rope before and he was becoming increasingly more nervous as his turn approached and all of the boys before him had succeeded in climbing to the top at least once. Charlie desperately did not want to be labeled as a failure at this highly watched exercise. When his turn came he gave his name and then following the example that the boys before him had set. First, he jumped up and grabbed the rope tightly in his hands as it was being held taut by one of the gym instructors. Then he clasped the sides of his feet together and began to shimmy up the rope's length.

Charlie was deceptively strong for his size, and the combination of his well-coordinated arm pulls and feet pushes propelled him up the rope in no time. Then he reversed the process and came back down before starting back up again. Prior to Charlie, 3-1/2 trips were the most any boy had done. It seemed like in no time, however, that Charlie was beginning his 5th ascent while the other boys began to cheer him on. As he came back down and commenced his 6th ascent, one of the instructors told him in a voice loud enough for all to hear "Charles Gordon, this is your 6th trip---the school record, for any Year, is 9 trips. Good Luck!" The activity at all of the other stations was halted so that the boys could witness Charlie's attempt at the record. While his arms and legs had begun to burn several trips ago, the cheering of the boys and his prospect for achieving greatness energized Charlie as he continued to smoothly climb.

Two other instructors had now positioned themselves at the base of the rope to catch the lad should he become exhausted and fall. On the 7th trip Charlie began to lean into the rope more strongly with his hips and torso, trapping the rope between his thighs and chest with each motion. In this way, Charlie found that he did not have to rely exclusively on his hand and feet to hold him onto the rope, thereby conserving precious strength and energy. He also began sliding down the rope more fluidly, being careful to be sure that the course exterior of the rope was against the cloth of his shorts, so that it would not burn against the bare flesh of his entwined thighs.

Then suddenly, as he slid down for the 7th time, a bolt of something indescribable shot through Charlie. He had no reference for this intoxicating feeling and suddenly the flaxen smell of the rope was becoming more pungent. As he started back up for number 8, he had become deaf to the chants of "Go Charlie Go" that had filled the Gym. All Charlie could think about was continuing to climb as each stride he made intensified the strange growing feeling within him. When he reached the top he felt his head swooning and he paused just briefly enough holding his head back, that it looked as if he might fall, causing the instructors to reflexively hold their arms out to catch him. But, he quickly fought off the urge to just stay there and squeeze with his thighs, as the amazingly pleasurable sensation continued to build inside him.

His slide back down the rope was the most glorious thing Charlie had ever felt. The swooning look on his face caused on instructor to ask "Are you sure you can continue Mr. Gordon?" Charlie quickly nodded that he could as his 9th and record tying ascent sent shivers of untold pleasure through his body and, for the first time he began to localize where it was emanating from. With every clinch of his thighs and buttock cheeks, a growing euphoria was beginning to overtake him and he was unable to hold back the moans of his rapture. To those below, they sounded like the athletic straining of a young boy bent on accomplishing his Herculean task. To Charlie, as they rang in his ears, they sounded decidedly similar to the noises Nigel had made the night before, though Charlie's were certainly unrestrained in their volume.

The gym erupted in applause as Charlie slid down and began the 10th trip, groaning wildly as the fire in his loins propelled him to the top. A triumphant release of untold pleasure seized him as he clinched hard on the rope with his thighs and felt his sphincter tighten beyond description while his small testicles began to dance wildly causing him to roar out at the power of the feelings that were possessing him. It all began to melt away as he slid down for the last time collapsing on the mat as his lungs heaved for air and his groin felt super charged with electricity. Soon his hearing began to return through the ringing sound in his ears and, as the instructors helped him to his feet, he smiled broadly at the vibrant applause from the other boys.

"That's a new School record---10 trips by young Charles Gordon. Let's hear it for him lads: Hip Hip Horrah, Hip Hip Horrah, Hip Hip Horrah!!!!"

Nigel came over to Charlie as he slumped down on the fist row of the Gym benches, completely exhausted by his ordeal. "Bloody fantastic Charlie!" Nigel gushed at him "Well done, well done indeed!" Charlie was excused from the rest of the day's events, having been pronounce incredibly fit on the heels of his record-breaking performance. As the Gym returned to normal and the other boys continued on with the events, Charlie lay on his back and closed his eyes as he waited for all of his senses to return.

"You'll be quite the hero after that I expect" a voice said as Charlie opened his eyes and saw a much older student standing above him. As he started to rise, the boy sat down beside him and said "Don't get up on my account, you need to rest after what you just went through. My names Thomas Geoffrey, I'm a Seventh Year, you can call me Tom."

"Pleased to meet you Tom," Charlie said as he sat up and grabbed Tom's extended hand and shook it weakly, his hands still trembling. Charlie could not help but admire the tall muscular blond-headed boy who sat beside him. Tom had a disarming smile and projected a sense of friendship and importance that was magnetic to Charlie.

"And your name is Charlie, right?" Tom smiled back.

"Yeah, I'm Charlie Gordon, I'm a First Year."

"Yes, and a damned strong one at that. I've never seen more than 6 trips before and the boy was bloody strong as an ox. The ordeal made him vomit don't ya know. You, on the other hand, had a completely different experience didn't you?" Tom said with a knowing smile that Charlie seemed to interpret immediately.

"I can't explain it Tom, I have never felt anything like that in my life. It just kept getting stronger and in the end this feeling exploded all over me." Charlie replied trying to find the words to describe the indescribable.

"Never felt ANYTHING similar to that at all Charlie?" Tom asked smiling at him slyly "Like say in the morning when you first wake up or perhaps a little bit of that feeling when you're changing in the locker room before gym or showering after?"

As Charlie thought about Tom's question, certain similarities began to occur to him, but before he could respond Tom continued. "I know exactly what you felt and why you felt it. It happened to me to once, but it didn't take me 10 trips on the rope to get it---just three I think and then POW---what a feeling, quite extraordinary. Of course now I get that feeling almost every day and without the need of the rope."

Tom now had Charlie's complete attention as Charlie asked him "The feeling your talking about, how do you know it's the same?"

"Because I was your age once too you know. All boys get that feeling sooner or later---certainly not in the same manner you just did---but they all get it and they all LOVE it."

"What exactly is it then, and how can I make it happen without the rope?" Charlie asked excitedly.

"I'll tell you what Charlie, if you want, you come up to my room when the others are watching the show after dinner tonight and I'll tell you all about it. Maybe, just maybe, I'll even show you how to feel that way again tonight---and any other time you ever want to."

"Yes," Charlie replied eagerly "I'll be there, but where is it?"

"It's the house at the far left of the row 1st floor, room G, only Seventh Years live there, none of whom will be here until tomorrow," Tom answered.

"And why is it you're here now Tom?" Charlie asked.

"Because I'm "Head Boy" for my Year---all the Head Boys report early" Tom replied.

"What are Head Boys?" Charlie inquired.

"We're the leaders of our respective Years. We get selected by the faculty and the Headmaster at the end of each school year. Anyway, you rest up and I'll see you tonight. Best not saying anything about this to anyone though Charlie. Technically, it's against the rules for me to tell you the things we'll discuss tonight. But everyone does it so not to worry. We just don't advertise it, if you get my drift." Tom grinning broadly at Charlie as he walked off, leaving Charlie thinking about how cool he thought Tom was and how he couldn't wait to be instructed by him later that evening.

Charlie walked slowly into the locker room to change and was the only boy there as he started to undress. Just then the door burst open and Nigel came in with a fresh pair of gym shorts and another jock. "Bloody rope wanked me!" Nigel said as he raised his shirt revealing a fair sized wet spot on the front of the shorts he was wearing. "One of the instructors said I was the 5th boy today to mess myself." Charlie had no idea what Nigel meant as he watched the boy quickly strip off his shorts and then his jock which was completely soaked. When Nigel took the jock off the wetness there seemed to strand out as it was pulled away from the head of Nigel's semi-erect penis with its light downy patch of blond fuzz and handful of light brown hairs which were now matted and glistening against his flabby lower abdomen.

"Great show again Charlie!" Nigel said as he used a towel to wipe furiously at his sticky wet looking genitals before pulling on the change clothes. "Well, back to the contest!" Nigel exclaimed as he ran back into the Gym. Confused by what he had just witnessed and heard, but being far too tired to contemplate it further, Charlie stripped and then took a long luxurious hot shower. Charlie's little penis was hyper sensitive to the occasional direct contact of the shower spray. He'd never felt that way before, and chalked it up to the water being too hot. He also noted but then dismissed the sparks of electricity he felt when drying himself in that delicate region. Then he dressed and returned to the Gym to watch the others.

Just before lunchtime, the other boys completed the fitness exam and streamed into the locker room to shower and change. As Charlie sat there alone, he caught himself wishing that he were in there to watch the other boys. He was trying to come up with an excuse to do just that when Edwin Carlson, Professor of Physical Education, approached to offer his congratulations. "So, 10 trips was it Mr. Gordon? An amazing feat by one as young as yourself."

"Thank you sir," Charlie replied.

A curious look came across Professor Carlson's face as he heard Charlie speak for the first time "American are you Mr. Gordon? Well it's not too many School records that have been set by foreigners. Have you ever crewed before?"

"Crewed sir?" Charlie replied.

"Rowed lad, have you ever rowed a boat?"

"Oh, yes sir on the Potomac with my father a few times." Charlie answered.

"Mr. Geoffrey, a moment please," Carlson called out to Tom who was half way across the Gym floor. Tom immediately ran over and Carlson asked him "Have you met our newest celebrity yet?"

"Yes Professor, we spoke a little while ago. I had the privilege of watching his brave effort," Tom replied.

"Well then," Carlson continued "don't you think a strong young man like this would make an excellent First Year addition to our Crew Team? Tom here is the Captain this year, Mr. Gordon, in addition to being Head Boy of the Seventh Years."

Tom smiled at Charlie and said "I had every intention of speaking to him about just that Professor, after he had some time to get a little more acclimated."

"Best not wait too long, lest he gets gobbled up by Football or Rugby teams. Why don't you take him down to the Boathouse after lunch and show him around."

"Yes sir Professor, an excellent idea. Would you like that Charlie?" Tom asked.

"Very much!" Charlie beamed.

"Good then, it's settled," Carlson said as he walked off leaving Tom and Charlie alone.

"I don't know much about crewing Tom. I've only rowed a boat a few times in my life," Charlie said nervously.

"Not to worry Charlie, few First Years have ever had any formal crewing instruction. If you're willing to work hard and learn, I believe you'll do very well. You've certainly demonstrated the strength for it. I'll meet you outside the Dining Hall after lunch and take you down to the Boathouse. We could also talk about some of the other things we discussed before if you'd like," Tom said smiling.

"Yeah, sure," Charlie said smiling back as a rush of excitement caused his loins to twinge.

Charlie sat with Nigel at a table of other First Years during lunch. He noticed that Tom was seated at a table with other older boys, presumably the other Head Boys, as well as with several of the Professors. Tom and Charlie made eye contact on several occasions, and as Charlie was finishing his desert, almost oblivious to the conversation that surrounded him, he saw Tom rise from his table. After some final words, Tom headed toward the main door, but not before sending a knowing glance Charlie's way.

"I'll see you later Nigel," Charlie said as he rose.

"Where ya off to mate?" Nigel inquired.

"I'm supposed to go to the Crew Team Boathouse," Charlie replied felling and looking a bit embarrassed by the honor.

"Well, well, aren't we completely top shelf now!" Nigel said in mock jealousy "Climb a little bit of rope and we're off to join the Crew Team." Then, seeing Charlie beginning to blush, Nigel quickly added "Best get to it then Charlie, you never know when I'll be needin' ya to paddle me up and down the Thames!"

The smile on Nigel's face and friendly laughter from the other boys put Charlie back at ease as he left to find Tom, who was waiting just outside. As they walked the path to the Boathouse, Tom gave him as best an overview as he could, stressing the history of the Crew Team and the high esteem with which its members were held. He told him about the events: singles, doubles, fours and eights; and he told him about some of the duties of the First and Second Year members, which included lots of ritualistic menial labor and acts of harmless servitude to the upper Years.

"We're like a family though, Charlie, and if you get in you'd be treated like one of our brothers---our littlest one mind you, but a brother nonetheless!" Tom concluded putting his arm around Charlie's shoulders as they approached the Boathouse.

"I don't have any real brothers, Tom" Charlie said as he was comforted in the embrace of Tom's powerful arm "I think I'd like to be yours though."

"We shall see Charlie, we shall see---but I will say I am optimistic," Tom said with a warm smile as they arrived at the front door of what appeared to Charlie to be a rather large stone cottage with ivy covered walls and a dark slate roof. Window and gables were everywhere on this handsome structure that stood about 100 feet above the bank of the river. The name "Boathouse" was actually a misnomer, as the boats were actually stored in another structure, a large garage like building at the foot of the pier down at the river's edge.

The Boathouse was actually more of a clubhouse with trophies, boat oars, portraits and pictures everywhere throughout the large living room with its massive fireplace and mantle. There was a kitchen a study and a library on the remainder of the first floor, which Tom took Charlie through, before leading him to a stairway to the upstairs rooms. When they climbed the stairs, Charlie saw that the large upper floor was divided evenly into 8 well appointed bedrooms, four on each side of the hallway, with a large bathroom at the end.

"Many a boy has lost his virginity in these rooms Charlie, and many a fair maiden has been deflowered here as well," Tom said in serious tone Charlie had not previously heard.

"I don't understand Tom," Charlie replied.

"You will Charlie, you will---and if you'd like, you could begin to understand right now."

Charlie nodded and Tom took him by the hand and led the young boy into one of the rooms where he then closed and bolted the door...