In this chapter Larkin's troubles get bigger (or smaller, depending how you look at it). And Barnett fairly quickly finds himself wondering whether recruiting Fielding to be his baby-sitter was really such a good idea...
Billy Larkin wasted no time enforcing his orders to his brother: when his father told him it was time for bed that Friday evening, Billy stared at his brother until Steven stood up and said, “I think I’ll have an early night, too. In fact, I’ve been thinking of going to bed a bit earlier every day – I’ve been feeling a bit tired at school.”
“Okay,” said his father, looking surprised: it was only eight o’clock, and usually Steven stayed up much later than that on a Friday evening.
So both boys went upstairs, and Billy came into Steven’s room and watched him put his pyjamas on, insisting that he did it facing him, so that he got a good view. Then he went back to his own room and closed the door before getting undressed himself.
Things didn’t get any better next morning. Usually their parents went out to do the weekly shopping on a Saturday morning, leaving Steven in charge, and they thought they’d done the same thing this week: they left quite early, as they usually did to try to beat the rush at the supermarket, and before they left their mother put her head round Steven’s door (the boys were still both in bed) and told him they were leaving, and that he should make sure Billy behaved himself while they were out.
The minute Billy heard the car start he jumped out of bed and went to his brother’s room.
“Stay in bed,” he ordered him. “I’ll come and get you when it’s time for you to get up.”
He went to the bathroom and got washed, and then returned to his own room and got fully dressed. Then he went back to Steven’s room.
“Get up, take your pyjamas off, make the bed and then go to the bathroom and get washed,” he ordered.
Steven got out of bed, removed his pyjamas and reached for his pants, but Billy stopped him.
“Leave those alone,” he said. “You’re not allowed to get dressed until you’ve finished in the bathroom. Now make the bed, and if it isn’t done properly I’ll make you start again.”
Hideously conscious that he was wearing nothing except a small pink ribbon – Billy had ordered him to keep it on overnight – and that his ten-year-old brother was smirking at him, Steven started making the bed; but of course Billy wasn’t satisfied with his first effort and made him do it again.
“Stop wasting time,” he said. “If you don’t get everything done properly before ten o’clock I’m going to phone Nathan and ask him to come round to play, so unless you want him to see you like that you’d better get a move on, hadn’t you?”
The last thing Steven wanted was for Billy’s best friend to come round and catch him naked, so he made a serious attempt to make the bed. This time Billy said it would do, but insisted that he go and make Billy’s bed too before he went to get washed.
“Come on, Billy, I need to go to the toilet,” said Steven. “Can’t I do your bed later?”
“Do it now, or else I’ll call Nathan at half-past nine instead.”
So Steven went to his brother’s room, and – eventually - satisfied his demand for a perfectly-made bed. Only then was he allowed to go to the bathroom, but before he could shut the door Billy followed him in.
“I’ve got to make sure you wash behind the ears,” said the younger boy, smirking at him.
“But… I need to pee, Billy. I’ll call you in when I’ve finished.”
“No, you won’t, because I’m not going anywhere. If you need to pee, get on with it.”
“But I can’t go in front of you!”
“Then you can’t go at all.” And Billy plonked himself onto the side of the bath and folded his arms.
Steven really had to go, and although he tried desperately to persuade Billy to leave he was unsuccessful. Obviously he didn’t dare physically force him out of the room: he knew if he did that, Nathan would only be the first person who got to look at the incriminating photos. So in the end he had to stand in front of the toilet, and at that point Billy came and stood right beside him so that he could see properly.
Steven felt desperately ashamed: nobody had ever watched him do this – at least, not since he was a very small child. But he had no choice. He started to pee, vainly trying to ignore his brother’s giggles and comments.
“Now have a proper wash,” demanded Billy, when he had finished and flushed.
Steven washed his hands and face thoroughly and brushed his teeth, and only then did Billy tell him to go back to his room and get dressed.
“I’ll go and do some toast,” he said, heading for the stairs.
Steven went back to his own room and reached for his pants again, but then he paused. He remembered what Fielding had told him about keeping himself completely hairless, and although there was no sign of anything growing back yet, he wasn’t sure how fast it would grow. With his parents out and his brother occupied making breakfast, maybe this would be a good time to use the cream Fielding had given him, just to make sure there was no sign should he be inspected on Monday. After all, it was quite possible that Fielding had deliberately missed a few hairs when shaving him - round the back of his balls, for instance - just so that he could catch him out on Monday.
He took the tube of Immac into the bathroom and read the instructions: ‘Spread evenly over the area to be depilated and leave in place for ten minutes, and then wash thoroughly with clean cold water’.
He thought it would take his brother a lot more than ten minutes to prepare and eat his breakfast, so he set to work coating his balls and the area round the base of his penis with the cream. Then he realised he couldn’t check it had been on for ten minutes because he wasn’t wearing a watch, so he tiptoed back to his room and put his watch on, walking carefully with his legs apart to avoid rubbing off the cream.
“What are you doing?” asked his brother’s voice, just as he got back to the bathroom door.
“Why aren’t you in the kitchen?” he countered.
“I came up to ask how many slices of toast you want. What’s all that white stuff?”
Steven couldn’t think of an excuse, and in any case he already knew that his brother could tell when he was lying, so he swallowed and told him the truth. Billy fell about laughing.
“So you have to use that stuff to keep yourself bald every day?” he asked, when he got his breath back.
“I’m not sure if I have to do it every day, only when the hair starts to grow again. But I wanted to be sure it was all off to start with, otherwise I’ll be in trouble at school.”
“That’s funny! OK, from now on you have to tell me whenever you’re going to use it so that I can come and watch. I can help you, too – I can check the bits you can’t see yourself, like under your balls and round your bum. In fact, I think I’d like to put it on for you next time – I like the idea of it being me who makes sure you haven’t got any hair.”
So Steven was forced to let his brother stay with him, and once the cream had been rinsed away Billy made him submit to a humiliating close inspection: the younger boy peered closely at his balls and ordered him to bend over and spread his legs so that his bum-hole and the area round it could be inspected. Steven blushed deeply all over, which just made his brother laugh even more.
“We’d better play safe,” said Billy, when he finally allowed Steven to go back to his bedroom and get dressed. “I’m going to inspect you like that every day. After all, now that I’m in charge I can’t have you getting into trouble at school, can I?”
Things didn’t get any better for Larkin when he got back to school on the Monday morning: as usual he had to report to 1C’s form room at break to take their tuck shop order, and of course Fielding insisted on making a full inspection, first to check that the bra and knickers were being worn, and then to carry out a full and thorough check for pubic hair. This meant that Larkin was forced to strip naked and undergo a humiliating personal inspection in front of a crowd of jeering first-years. Nor did things get any better at lunchtime, when he was again forced to suck Baker off while Fielding fucked him. If it hadn’t been for the fact that this was the last week of term Larkin thought he might have had to run away to sea, or something similarly drastic, but as he only had a further four days to survive, he thought perhaps he could make it through to the start of the Easter holidays.
His situation did deteriorate still further on the Wednesday evening, when he got home from school to find Billy’s friend Nathan sitting watching television with him. Larkin tried to sneak up to his room without being noticed, because he knew that his brother would be sure to bring Nathan with him if he came up to watch him getting changed; but of course Billy had been waiting for him and came running out of the living room almost as soon as Steven had set foot on the lowest stair.
“Oh, good, you’re nice and early,” he said. “Mum’s popped round to see Mrs Jenkins – she says can you make us some sandwiches for tea.”
“Okay,” said Steven, dropping his school bag and heading for the kitchen. “Is Nathan staying for tea?”
“Yes, he is. But… don’t you think you ought to go and get changed first? You wouldn’t want to get jam or something all over your school uniform.”
“It’s okay, I’ll be careful.”
“No, it isn’t. Go and get changed… no, just come in here and take off your blazer and stuff.”
So Steven followed him into the living room and removed his blazer, but – as he had feared – Billy’s definition of ‘and stuff’ turned out to be anything worn exclusively for school, including his tie, trousers and shirt. He begged Billy to let him keep his trousers and shirt on, but Billy insisted, miming the use of a camera to indicate what would happen if Steven didn’t comply, and so Steven was forced to strip to his bra and knickers. Nathan took one look and literally fell on the floor, rolling about and laughing hysterically, while Steven went bright red with shame.
“Make him go and get our tea dressed like that!” suggested Nathan, when he finally got his breath back, so Steven was sent back into the kitchen and forced to wait on the two younger boys in his girl’s underwear. He wasn’t allowed to eat anything himself until they had both finished, and then he was only allowed to eat their leftovers. Then they marched him up to his room, where Billy undid his bra for him and then ordered him to remove his knickers.
Off they came, revealing the hairless organs and little pink ribbon, and once again Nathan howled with laughter.
“What's the ribbon for?” he gasped.
“It's to show everyone that my brother's a girly,” Billy told him. “Hey, Nath – do you want to see it stick out?”
Nathan nodded eagerly, so Billy ordered his brother to come and stand in front of them and then took hold of his penis, squeezing and tugging until it started to get hard.
“Can I have a go?” asked Nathan.
“Of course,” Billy told him, so Nathan grabbed it and wrenched at it, making Steven cry out. Nathan thought that was funny, so he pulled it even harder, twisting it as well, and Steven overbalanced and fell onto the bed. Nathan didn't let go, however, continuing to pull and squeeze until Steven’s erection was at full stretch.
“That looks so funny,” said Nathan, letting go at last and slapping it, making Steven yell. “What else can we do to him, Billy?”
“Whatever you want,” said Billy, grinning.
“Oh, wow! Let me think...”
Nathan thought about it, idly slapping Steven's erect penis back and forwards. Then he got up and went and whispered in Billy’s ear.
“Yes, okay, why not?” agreed Billy, smiling.
He went and removed his brother’s ribbon, stowing it in his pocket, and then he ordered him into the bathroom and told him to lie on his back in the bath. Steven did so, expecting them to turn on the cold water or something, but what happened instead was that Nathan pulled out his little penis and pissed all over Steven’s groin.
“Stand up,” ordered Billy, cutting across his brother’s protests.
Steven stood up, and pee ran down his legs, and Nathan fell about laughing once more.
Billy ordered his brother to lie down again, and now he did turn the cold tap on, ordering Steven to rinse himself off. By the time he had done so the freezing water had done its job and his erection had completely disappeared.
“Now it’s gone all small,” said Nathan. “This is fun, Billy – can I come round and do this stuff again?”
“Whenever you want,” said Billy, and Steven’s heart sank: this looked likely to go on for ever…
On the Wednesday Jordan went home with Charlie Barnett, though before they left the school he changed into his long trousers, which he had brought to school specially: if he was going to be in charge this evening, he wanted to look the part.
When they got to Charlie’s house his mother was already getting ready to go out. She sent Charlie upstairs to get changed out of his school uniform and took Jordan through into the kitchen, where she was getting their tea ready.
“Now, I’ve told Charlie you’re in charge, and that he has to do whatever you tell him without arguing. If he misbehaves, you’re to tell me about it when I get home, though I don’t think he will: as I said before, he’s usually very good. Once you’ve had your tea he’s to do his homework, and I expect you’d like to do yours at the same time – I don’t let him watch television until he’s finished it.
“He has to be in bed by eight o’clock, and I’ll be telling him he’s not to argue about that with you. And I want him to have a bath before he goes to bed – and make sure he cleans his teeth last thing, too.
“I expect you usually go to bed quite early, too, but I don’t think we’ll be too late getting back home. We’ll be in at around nine-thirty, so we should be able to get you home by ten. If this works out, next time we’ll arrange for you to stay the night: that way you won’t have to stay up past your normal bedtime.”
Charlie reappeared wearing the same pair of little pale yellow shorts and the same tiny ankle socks that he had been wearing on Jordan’s last visit, but this time the tee shirt was a plain one of pale blue. It didn’t make him look a lot older, though.
Mrs Barnett took him to one side and gave him his instructions, while Jordan metaphorically rubbed his hands in glee: this, he thought, might be quite an entertaining evening after all.
Mrs Barnett set the table and invited them to sit down, and when she had finished setting out the sandwiches, some cakes and a bottle of lemonade she looked at her watch and said she had to go. “Jordan, if anything goes wrong you can go round to Mrs Batley next door – she’ll know who to call in an emergency. But I’m sure you won’t need to do that. Charlie, you be good and do what Jordan tells you, all right?”
She went and kissed Charlie on the cheek and then left the house.
“Yippee!” cried Charlie, as soon as the door closed. “Now we can have some fun!”
“We’re not going to mess about, Charlie. We can’t let anything go wrong tonight or I won’t be allowed to come again. So tonight we’re going to do what your mum said we should. After tea we’ll do our homework. We can think about enjoying ourselves once it’s done.”
“Oh,” said Charlie, looking disappointed. “I thought we could do brother-type stuff, like chasing each other and wrestling and stuff.”
“Well, we might be able to do some of that too if we get our homework done quickly enough.”
“Hooray!” shouted Charlie, enthusiastically.
They ate their tea fairly quickly, and Charlie collected their plates and piled them up on the draining board. Then he went into the hall and came back with his briefcase.
“Aren’t you going to do the washing up?” Jordan asked him.
“Well, no. Mum will do it when she gets home.”
“When she gets home she’ll be tired and not in the mood to clean up after us,” Jordan pointed out. “But… okay, we’ll leave it until we’ve done our homework, at least.”
He went and got his own bag and they sat down beside each other and wrote up that afternoon’s chemistry experiment, and then did the ten maths exercises they had been set. Jordan was quite good at maths, so he was able to help Charlie out when he got stuck.
“Thanks, Jordan,” said Charlie, putting his books away. “That’s another reason I wish I had a big brother: it’s nice having someone to help with homework. Now, let’s go and see what’s on telly!”
He ran and got the Radio Times and looked at what was on.
“There’s not much on now,” he said, “but I’d like to watch that,” and he pointed to a programme on BBC2 that started at eight o’clock.
“You’re supposed to be in bed at eight o’clock.”
“I know, but… please, Jordan? I never get a chance to stay up normally…”
Jordan himself usually didn’t go to bed until nine, so he had a certain sympathy.
“Your mum would never let me look after you again if she found out you were up after eight o’clock,” he pointed out.
“I won’t tell her, I promise.”
“Yes, but you’re supposed to have a bath tonight, too. If you’re still watching telly at half past eight and then go for a bath, you’ll be far too late getting to bed.”
“Well, I don’t really have to have a bath, do I? We could just say I did.”
“No, we couldn’t. Your mum will be expecting wet towels and stuff. And, besides, I promised her I’d make sure you had a bath tonight. But... I suppose you could have your bath earlier, and then come back down to watch some TV afterwards…”
“Yes, okay!” agreed Charlie immediately.
“Good. Okay, let’s go upstairs, and then maybe we can see if you know how to wrestle.”
Charlie gave him a big grin and ran up the stairs, and as soon as Jordan set foot in the bedroom Charlie jumped on him. But Jordan was five inches taller and proportionally heavier, and Charlie didn’t seem to know the first thing about fighting, so within ten seconds Jordan had him pinned down on the floor. He got off him and let him try again, but Charlie didn’t do any better the second time. Jordan pinned his arms down with his knees and tickled the smaller boy mercilessly.
“This is why you should never annoy an older brother,” he pointed out, as Charlie wriggled and struggled. “Now… I’ll go and run the bath; you get ready.”
He got up and headed for the door.
“I’m allowed to do my own bath now,” said Charlie, scrambling to his feet. “Mummy said that now I’m twelve I’m old enough not to need any help.”
“You’re already twelve?” asked Jordan in disbelief: his own twelfth birthday was still nearly five months away.
“Ages ago,” said Charlie, proudly. “I’m more than twelve and a half now – my birthday’s in September.”
That made him almost a whole year older than Jordan, whose birthday was in August. He couldn’t believe that this little baby was a year older than he was, but if he was, that made him old enough to have some fun with.
“Sorry, Charlie, but I’m in charge tonight, and when I’m in charge I’m going to make sure you’re okay. So, like I said, get undressed and then come through – I’ll go and run the bath for you.”
“Oh… well, I suppose it’s okay if you run it for me… can you put some foamy stuff in, please? It’s the pink bottle on the window-sill.”
“Okay.” Jordan went through to the bathroom and started running the bath, adding a dash of the pink liquid, which started to foam up nicely. A couple of minutes later Charlie came in, wearing nothing but a pair of little white briefs.
“How deep do you want it?” asked Jordan.
“I like it nice and deep, so I can go right under water… and I can manage on my own, Jordan, honest.”
“I expect you can, but this is my first time in charge, so I’m going to play safe. Come and try the water and see if it’s hot enough.”
Charlie did that. “It’s perfect,” he said, and a little later he added, “I think that’s deep enough, too. Thanks, Jordan – I’ll come down as soon as I’ve finished.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” said Jordan. “I’ve got to supervise you.”
Charlie’s face fell. “But… you can’t,” he said. “I’m not allowed to let anyone see me all bare, ever.”
“If I was really your brother, you’d be allowed to let me see you, because we’d probably share a bedroom, so we’d see each other getting changed all the time. And it’s different with me than with your mum, because I’m a boy, so I look the same as you do undressed.”
“Yes, but… please, Jordan, I don’t want to.”
“I promised your mum I’d make sure you were okay, so I’m going to. Now get in the bath, or I might have to smack your bottom for you.”
Charlie stared at him: he seemed on the verge of tears. Then he made one last attempt to escape.
“Well… okay, I suppose that’s all right. But I need to do a wee first. I’ll call you back in when I’m in the bath.” He was confident he could hide under the foam as long as he was able to get into the bath unobserved.
“No, you won’t. As soon as I step outside the room you’ll lock the door. So I’m staying right here. If you want to use the toilet, go ahead, but I’m not leaving the room.”
Charlie opened his mouth to argue but saw the look on Jordan’s face and changed his mind. His shoulders slumped.
“You wanted a big brother,” said Jordan, to drive the lesson home. “You’ve got one, so don’t start complaining now.”
Charlie managed a small nod. “Okay, but could you please look out of the window while I go?”
Jordan looked out of the window for about five seconds, then turned and saw Charlie sitting on the toilet with his pants round his ankles.
“I thought you only wanted a pee?” he said.
“I do.”
“Then why are you sitting down?”
“I always sit down to do a wee.”
“Really? Why?”
“I just do,” said Charlie, keeping hunched forward. “It means I don’t have to touch it.”
“Why don’t you want to touch it?”
“Well, it’s dirty – it’s got germs on. Boys aren’t supposed to touch themselves unless they really have to, and then they have to have a really good wash afterwards. But it’s better not to touch it at all, so I always sit down to have a wee.”
“I’ve never heard that before,” said Jordan. “What a strange idea… oh, well, if that’s how you’ve been taught to do it, you’d better carry on. Haven’t you finished yet?”
“I can’t while you’re watching me.”
“Don’t be silly, Charlie – I’m your brother, remember? You don’t need to have secrets from me. Oh, and I promise not to tell the other boys at school about babysitting you, or about seeing you undressed, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
“Thanks,” said Charlie. “Look, please can’t you go out while I do it? It’s really difficult while you’re here.”
“Nope. Just get on with it, or I might have to spank you.”
Charlie wasn’t sure if he meant it or not, but he closed his eyes, tried to pretend he was alone in the room, and finally managed to pee. He opened his eyes again to see Jordan grinning at him. Embarrassed, he wriggled a couple of times and then stood up, turning away from Jordan while he flushed the toilet, and then quickly reaching for his pants. Jordan stopped him before he managed to pull them up.
“You’re getting in the bath, so that’s a bit pointless, isn’t it?” he said. “Besides, you haven’t shaken off properly – you’ll leave a wet mark on your undies. In fact, if that’s how you normally pee, I bet there’s already one there. Take them off and let me see.”
Clasping a hand over his groin, Charlie kicked off his pants and handed them over, and then scampered for the bath. Jordan grabbed his shoulder to stop him.
“Just a moment,” he said, turning the pants inside out and pointing out the small stain on the inside. “See? It’s a wonder you don’t leave brown stains there too. Bend over.”
Somehow Charlie forced himself to do that, but instead of spanking him Jordan took a piece of toilet paper and wiped it firmly across Charlie’s bum, pressing hard. And, as he had hoped, the toilet paper came away with a faint brown smear.
“I thought so,” he said, showing it to Charlie. “You’re still a baby, Charlie: you can’t take care of yourself properly yet. You really do need an older brother to look after you, don’t you? Okay, get in the bath and clean yourself up a bit.”
Blushing extensively, Charlie did as he was told, happy to hide under the piles of bubbles. Jordan threw the offending piece of paper in the toilet, removed his shirt and knelt down beside the bath.
“Give me the soap,” he demanded.
“Why, what are you going to do?” asked Charlie, nervously.
“Give you a bath, of course. I reckon you’ll probably drown yourself if I leave you on your own: a boy who can’t even use a toilet properly can’t be trusted in the bath on his own. Now give me the soap.”
Charlie opened his mouth to argue, but realised it would be pointless and closed it again. Instead he handed over the soap.
Jordan started by washing Charlie’s feet, which the smaller boy didn’t mind too much – in fact, when Jordan deliberately tickled the soles of his feet he quite enjoyed it, giggling and thrashing about in the water. But as Jordan made his way up, washing first his calves and then his thighs, he became more and more nervous.
But when he had done up to a point about six inches below his groin, Jordan switched and started washing his shoulders and back instead, and Charlie relaxed, thinking he was going to be allowed to wash his personal places himself. He was, obviously, wrong. Once Jordan had finished washing his stomach he told Charlie to roll over and get onto his hands and knees. Charlie really didn’t want to do that, but one look at Jordan’s face convinced him that he had to.
Jordan washed his back and then started on his bum, soaping his hands thoroughly and rubbing away hard, and then using a nail brush over the hole. Charlie squealed and wriggled, but Jordan told him to keep still.
“I’ve got to get you clean, you dirty little boy,” he said. “Unless you want the whole class to start telling you how smelly you are?”
Charlie didn’t answer, but he stopped struggling – at least, he stopped until Jordan put aside the brush, soaped his hand thoroughly once more and then carefully pushed a finger into the hole. Charlie yelped and flinched away.
“Shut up and keep still,” said Jordan, thinking how tight this felt and wondering how it would feel if he put his cock inside instead of his finger. “This won’t take long if you hold still.”
Charlie did his best to keep still, but this felt really unpleasant, and he was grateful when Jordan removed his finger. But the gratitude ended when Jordan ordered him to stand up and face him. He did so, but very slowly, and he kept his hands clasped in front of his groin.
“Don’t be so silly,” said Jordan, batting the hands away and looking at what was behind them. In fairness to Charlie, it was in proportion to the rest of him, but of course that made it pretty small. Jordan looked for a moment, then soaped his hands again, took hold of it and started to soap it up thoroughly. Charlie gasped and tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go.
“Look, Charlie, if you can’t touch it, someone else is going to have to keep it clean for you,” Jordan pointed out. “If it doesn’t get a good wash fairly often it really will start to smell bad, and I don’t want people pointing at my little brother and calling him names, okay? So keep still and let me do this for you.”
So Charlie kept still, and once he recovered from the utter shame of being handled in such a personal way it started to feel not so bad: Jordan’s fingers were slipping softly up and down his little thingy and all round the undeveloped balls, and it didn’t feel bad at all – in fact, it felt quite nice. And then, of course, the inevitable started to happen, and Charlie blushed as he frantically tried to push Jordan’s hand away.
“Keep still, you baby,” said Jordan, grinning to himself as he felt the little organ starting to swell. “It’ll be easier to clean once it’s properly hard.”
He went on soaping it and playing with it until it was fully erect, jutting upwards and throbbing in his hand. It looked only about half the length of his own, which would have made it little more than two inches, but Jordan didn’t make any attempt to tease him about his lack of size. Instead he kept handling it gently, doing his best to make it as big and hard as he could. And Charlie, once the initial wave of shame had subsided a little, found himself quite prepared to stand there and let it happen.
Of course, Jordan didn’t really want him to enjoy this too much, so once it was good and stiff he let go and just stared at it, and that made Charlie feel ashamed and embarrassed once more. Jordan made him stand there for a few more seconds and then told him to lie down again and rinse all the soap off, which Charlie did, quickly scooping a big pile of bubbles back over his groin.
Jordan let him lie there for a couple of minutes before telling him to pull the plug out and get out of the bath. He wrapped the smaller boy in a large bath towel and dried him off with it, and then handed him the towel to finish himself off. Then he led him through to the bedroom. Charlie immediately reached for his pyjamas, but Jordan stopped him.
“Not yet,” he said. “This room’s a mess – you haven’t put your school clothes away. I know your mum doesn’t let you keep the room looking like this, and nor will I. Put everything away, and don’t forget to go and get those dirty pants from the bathroom and put them in the laundry basket.”
He sat on the bed and watched the naked boy scampering about putting his clothes away, still trying to keep his groin covered. When he had finally finished he tried to put his pyjamas on again, but once more he was prevented.
“I’ve just remembered we haven’t done the washing up yet,” Jordan pointed out. “We’ll go and do it now, and then you can have your pyjamas.”
“I’m not going downstairs all bare!” protested Charlie. “All the curtains are open – someone might look in and see me!”
“The kitchen window looks out into the back garden,” Jordan pointed out. “Nobody can look in.”
“I don’t care! I’m not going downstairs naked, and you can’t make me!”
Jordan had been hoping for a bit of defiance at some point, and now he’d got what he wanted. He grabbed Charlie’s wrist and dragged him across his lap, and then he began to spank him hard. Charlie howled – he’d never been spanked before – and tried to escape, but Jordan held him firmly and administered six hard blows. Then he let go, but he kept hold of Charlie’s left wrist.
The smaller boy hopped about clutching his bottom with his free hand, no longer worrying about his little genitals being on display. Tears were rolling down his face.
“Don’t you ever refuse to do what I tell you again,” said Jordan, sternly. “Otherwise you’ll go straight to bed instead of being allowed to watch TV.”
“I hate you! You’re horrible!” shouted Charlie, his face red.
“No, you don’t,” said Jordan. “You’re just not used to having a big brother, that’s all. Look, you know Mummy will be annoyed with you if the house isn’t clean when she gets home. I said we should have done the washing up straight after tea, if you remember…”
“Yes, but why can’t I have my pyjamas?”
“I was only teasing,” said Jordan. “I was going to let you put them on first – but now you’ve been naughty about it I’m not going to. Now come on and let’s get it done, then you can put them on before we watch TV. Of course, if you keep arguing I might not let you put them on at all…”
Charlie still looked very unhappy, but he turned and headed down the stairs. Jordan smiled to himself, knowing that he now had the smaller boy nicely tamed and obedient.
By the time they had finished the washing up and put everything away Charlie seemed to have calmed down a bit, so Jordan sent him upstairs to put his pyjamas on while he went and sat in the living room. Charlie reappeared a couple of minutes later and came and sat next to Jordan on the settee.
“Still angry with me?” asked Jordan.
“Yes,” said Charlie, sulkily.
Jordan pulled him right next to him and put an arm round his shoulders. ”I’m trying to be a proper big brother,” he said. “Boys I know who have older brothers say they get teased all the time, so I thought I should tease you a bit, too. But if I’m in charge you have to do what I tell you, Charlie, even if you don’t like it. You know you deserved to be spanked, don’t you?”
Charlie shrugged. “You didn’t have to hit me so hard,” he said.
“There’s no point in doing it unless it hurts. Now you know what’ll happen if you don’t do what you’re told, I bet you’ll be a good boy in future, won’t you?”
“Well… I suppose so.”
“Good. Now, turn the TV on and we’ll get comfy.”
Charlie went and turned the television on and then came back to the same place, leaning against Jordan and putting his head on Jordan’s shoulder. Jordan smiled again: yes, perfectly tamed; he thought. He put his arm round Charlie, who snuggled back against him.
After a while, just before the start of the programme Charlie wanted to see, Jordan went into the kitchen and came back with two glasses of lemonade, and as soon as he sat down again Charlie scooted back against him, pulling Jordan’s arm around himself.
“Come on, then, it’s bed-time,” said Jordan as soon as the programme ended.
“Hadn’t we better wash the glasses up first?”
“It’s okay, I’ll do it once you’re in bed. Come on, I’ll give you a piggy-back.”
Jordan carried the smaller boy upstairs.
“Do you need to go to the toilet before you get into bed?” he asked, setting him down at the bedroom door.
Charlie nodded.
“Come on, then.” And Jordan took his hand and led him into the bathroom.
This time Charlie only hesitated briefly before pulling his pyjama trousers down and sitting on the seat, and was able to pee without any problem. When he had finished he gave a little wriggle, stood up and reached for the waistband of his trousers.
“Wait a moment,” said Jordan. “Stand up straight.”
As he had expected, there was a drop of urine clinging to the tip of Charlie’s foreskin, so he took a piece of toilet paper and held it against it, and then showed Charlie the result, a spreading mark on the paper.
“That would have gone all over your pyjamas, and then all over you,” he said. “Look, Charlie, you really are going to have to learn to do your business properly. Otherwise you’ll get smelly, and you’ll have nasty marks all over your underwear, and the kids at school will tease you to death. Okay, you can get away with it in the cricket season, but we really are going to have to get you sorted out before September, because someone’s bound to notice once you have to take everything off for games. I’m going to think of how to help you do this properly in future. Okay, wash your hands and clean your teeth and then come through – and don’t take too long: if your parents get back early and you’re not in bed we’ll both be in trouble.”
Charlie trotted back to the bedroom a couple of minutes later. Jordan made him show him his teeth and then let him get into bad and tucked him in.
“Are you going to read me a story?” asked Charlie.
Jordan wasn’t sure he was serious at first: it had been two or three years since he had last wanted a bed-time story. But apparently Charlie was serious, indicating a copy of “The Hobbit” on the bedside cupboard. So Jordan sat on the side of the bed, found the bookmark and read him the next chapter.
“Now go to sleep,” he said, closing the book. “And… are you still mad at me?”
“No,” said Charlie. “I think you’re a good big brother really. Except… before you go… you promised to teach me about sex. Why does my winkle get all hard sometimes, like it did in the bath?”
“It’s too late now,” said Jordan; looking at his watch. “It’ll take too long. And I promised to teach Sadler, too, so it would be better to do it when you’re together. But next time it happens to you when we’re at school, tell me – it’ll be helpful to know what you’re doing when it happens. And keep a note of whenever it happens when we’re not at school, too. That’ll be useful when we come to talk about it. Is that okay?”
Charlie nodded happily at him, and Jordan went and closed the curtains and then went back to the TV. It was hard to believe that a boy as childish as that could really be a year older than him, but that did make dominating him feel okay. Although to be honest he was slightly in two minds about it: yes, it was fun teasing Charlie, and he supposed that if he wanted to he could pile all sorts of humiliations on him: nappies and potties sprang to mind. But he didn't think he would. He found himself quite liking the smaller boy, and perhaps going overboard with humiliating him would be too much like bullying, even though Charlie was older than he was. And it wasn't as if he didn't have plenty of older boys do do stuff with, after all...
Well, that was an entire chapter with the Rat nowhere in sight – obviously young Master Fielding has pretty much completely taken over the story.... Anyway, next time we'll finally get to the end of term prefects' dinner,which some people are going to enjoy a lot more than others. And David is about to make his biggest mistake yet...
I've really appreciated all the messages of support and encouragement I've received so far – thanks to everyone who has written to me. The address is gothmog@nyms.net – feel free to use it!
Copyright 2009: all rights reserved. Please do not reprint, repost or otherwise reproduce this or any part of it anywhere without my written permission.
David Clarke