Date: Wed, 9 Oct 2013 06:19:30 +0000 (UTC) From: fiveholepunch@comcast.net Subject: Boarding School Dormer Please give to Nifty. Boarding School Dormer We were twelve and thirteen-year-old boys, the youngest, at a boarding school. The older boys were in a separate wing. We lived four to a room. In the evenings, after study hall and before lights out, we would visit other rooms or other boys would visit ours. After lights out, we usually entertained ourselves, but sometimes we would sneak around. We did all sorts of stuff together. Sometimes there would be just two boys visiting in a room before lights out. That was serious. This is some of what happened. We often gathered together, on one bed, naked, and masturbated together looking at a dirty magazine. There were several magazines that made their way from room to room. We liked looking at the pictures, but we also liked looking at each other. Often the magazine was only an excuse to begin our activities. Since we had single beds, some or all of us would have to sit cross legged Indian-style to gather around the magazine. The biggest or oldest boy, usually the same, could lay claim to stretching out. We liked that because we could see him play with his bigger cock, I know I did. With so little space, we were in close contact, skin to skin; we could feel the heat from each other. This was especially the case when we all sat side-by-side with our backs up against the wall next to the bed. We would be shoulder to shoulder as we masturbated, legs touching along their length. Usually the older boy sat in the middle and he got to hold the magazine while we younger boys had to lean over to get a closer look. At other times, the magazine passed back and forth, in turn, up and down the line. We liked to make dirty comments that grew more and more grandiose describing what we would do sexually with the women if we were in the picture. We of course expressed our doubts jokingly about each other's abilities to achieve these exploits, but each of our spoken imaginings inflamed and ratcheted up our desire with every declaration. After a short time had passed, usually the older boy would tell one of the younger boys to jerk his cock. I liked to do this. I loved the feel of his bigger and fatter cock. I also liked it because the older boy had more hair; it was fun to feel it and to pull on it. At other times, the oldest boy would just reach over and start playing with his younger dorm mate. I well remember the excitement of looking back and forth, first at the pictures in the dirty magazine and then looking up to see one of my classmates being masturbated by another. We'd giggle and laugh at our shared naughtiness. The older boy would usually order us to do things like turn the page of the magazine while he leaned back and let us do the work jerking his penis. We learned a lot about cocks and sex. We learned how to masturbate cut and uncut cocks. We learned about testicles and how they pulled up when nearing an orgasm. We also learned about come; the smell, the feel. Most of us saw another boy's come long before we saw our own. We all wanted to come, but I remember being able to have several orgasms each night before I was able to actually shoot sperm. We also studied pubic hair growth, our own and each other's, in detail. After a year at the boarding school I could pretty much tell whether or not one of my classmates could ejaculate merely by how ruddy the skin was on his penis and scrotum and how much hair he had grown. And there was the indelible and memorable scent of maturity. We also learned other things about sex, not just the biological and physical, but the psychological which became much more interesting. As with any male group dynamic, hierarchies began to assert themselves. Dominance and submission, with more or less overt sadomasochistic elements, were lessons learned; slowly by some, more quickly by others. As an example: it was a test of "manhood" to apply, as well as withstand another boy's, forceful and violent masturbatory jerking. Often testicles were bounced up and down painfully. Everyone laughed, even the boy being abused. Things moved from the exploratory basics toward the obvious exercises dominance and submission as the weeks and months went by. The inevitably ballet, the back and forth, of who would suck whom took place along predictable lines. One boy would tell another to suck him; there would be vociferous protests. An older boy might stand up before a younger one with his jutting, perhaps dripping, erection inches from the seated boy's face; there would be more refusals. You wondered what it would be like. Fear and excitement went hand-in-hand. Sooner or later you would consent. The thrill of doing it, the submission and the humiliation before the other boys, then the thrill of remembering, the thrill of your seduction; eventually would lessen and diminish. But then, after passage of time, whether a semester or another school year, you would have the thrill of seducing another and you would have that excitement again. Making another take your cock in front of the other boys and knowing that they want to suck it; knowing their humiliation is that they don't want the other boys to know that they want it, their reluctance increasing your hardness and ardor. There were other hidden items trafficked amongst the dorm mates. In addition to the dirty magazines there was another prized item that excited the imagination perhaps more than those well-turned pages – lubricant. This could be, and often was, Vaseline, although baby oil, hand lotion and the rarest of the rare, cold cream, circulated as well. Lubricant was rarely used for commonplace masturbation; it was almost exclusively reserved for anal penetration. What of the experience of seduction by an older boy? Being a novitiate to the erotic brotherhood, the fearful imaginings of the rumored activities of the experienced excited. Knowing the length and thickness of an older boy's cock in one's hand, led the young border to wonder how such a swollen member could be taken into one's tight opening. Fingers, moistened or dry, were furtively inserted to test the possibility of penetration. Being "marked" or claimed by an older boy, being the object of pursuit, elicited a fearful anticipation of the inevitable. Some of the attractive newcomers were disputed prizes, but eventually the jaded boys of a year standing would serially take the lesser prizes. Deflowerings were snickered about by those in the know, records were pursued. What would generally transpire? A word or two by the older boy suggesting an intimate visit to his room was made after a permitted masturbation of his secretly, or not so secretly, admired member. The temptation of his wanting you, you'd blush, your heart racing with desire. The visit is thought about and then made. The self-conscious awareness that the other smiling boys in the hall may know of your visit and what it means. The door closes. Intimate assurances are given. Your mouth is dry. Time slows as you undress and are naked. His disrobing, the revelation of his half-hard shaft made as burgeoning underwear is slowly drawn down and off. You stare in trepidation. You recline. Your legs are raised and lubrication is intimately applied to your twitching ring. Kneeling, your seducer smears his hardened member and tells you to relax. Guided concentricity, pressure. A dilation, a slip from grace, a curse. Again, but deeper; you hold your breath. A grunt of frustration, a word of encouragement. You try, but it's too tight. An objection, or not, it matters not, it will happen. It hurts and you gasp. Satisfaction and insistence above you. You clench your teeth, grimace and try to keep the welling tears from falling down. More girth. Stifled involuntary cries and perhaps pleading, to no avail. Full depth. Developing pubes press against the distending ring. Desperation. Shallow thrusts, increases and decreases in pressure. Thigh to thigh, wrinkled sack to cleft, perspiration. Grunts elicit groans. The ancient tempo asserts itself. More is given and more is taken. Your fingers clutch and you arch higher. The pounding rhythmically shakes through your being. Exhalations intertwine. A swelling, a peak, a flooding, a collapse. The Pause. A slippery sliding withdrawal. A void. A look to the object of pleasure. A messy wiping up and the fumbling dressing. Awkward parting. The looks of others on the way to your room. The awareness of slippery puffiness, the throbbing. Later, the undercover reflection. The desire. What of the closed doors? Many times the boy who repeatedly refused the entreaties of an older boy to allow him to take him anally before a group of his peers would allow such a seduction in private. We soon learned what two boys in a room where others were forbidden access meant. Of course it was quickly known which boys had secluded themselves away from the others. Often times you could see the embarrassment of the seduced boy, his face flushed and eyes teary, as he went back to his room; the older boy smiling at his success, basking in the envious eyes of the other dormers. Often, in a few days or weeks, all modesty would be lost. Penetration would be witnessed by others; their envious lust fueled the taken boy in his gratified acceptance of the dominant boy's phallus. Legs up, smiling as the lubricating cream was smeared carefully on the sensitive wrinkled anal ring, you could see the wide-eyed desire in the reclining boy as he gazed between his legs at the other boy's erection being prepared for insertion. Giggles from both boys. Then the seriousness of finding the hole and a push from the dominant boy. A gasp and groan as the smile of the reclining boy dissolves into an "ohh" of penetration and if the dominant boy is fully endowed, an "ohh" of pain, a grimace and a forceful, squinting closure of eyes. Bestial coupling. This timeless dance of innocence and experience, repeating itself over and over, without end. _______________________ I will tell you of my seducer and the seducer of probably two dozen more during my lower house years. His name was Michael. His physicality was uninhibited by too great an intellect, unrestrained by reflection. He was not a boy, and not a fully developed teenager – yet. He, in his thirteenth year, was a heightening, smooth fleshed, male animal. The quintessence of adolescence. Michael was admired for what he was, the ideal we wished to be. He was both slightly feared and semi-consciously loved. All the boys had seen him at sport and knew of his power and strength. All the boys had also seen him naked in the dorm, in the shower. Michael had been gifted, befittingly, with a penis worthy of a hero. It was large and broad, but not grotesquely disproportional. Perfectly hooded, it hung splendidly above pendulous orbs halfway to hirsuteness. The delicious fear that existed in our dorms was knowing that Michael would have boys at his will, that such a magnificent display of maleness admired from afar could, and often for many, would be used in the most intimately possible way. It happened to me and I witnessed it being bestowed upon others. Michael would have his boys the first time in an almost invariable way. I know this because I compared notes with other boys in the dorm; my experience and theirs matched up almost exactly. Michael would ask you back to his room in a friendly way, but he wouldn't mention anything directly about sex beforehand. The other three boys that were Michael's roommates would know enough to make a quick exit when Michael brought a new boy back to the room if they hadn't already been informed that their absence was expected. Most boys knew why Michael was inviting them to his room. I can tell you that my experience was one of heart pounding trepidation. Michael would flop down on his bed and say something casual like, "Hey, you want to fool around a little?" He'd pat the bed and, if you weren't shy, you would join him. Michael would unbelt and unzip his pants and wait for you to follow suit. Then he would pull out his impressive piece of meat and flop it around enticingly. Michael would wait for you to do the same, offering encouragement if necessary. He would ask to feel yours and then would ask if you wanted to feel his. It was thrilling and, for most boys, awe-inspiring to handle such a large tool. Michael would get half hard before moving onto the next step of his seduction. Michael would offer to suck his young partner first. For a few boys, since they were so young, this was their first blow job, for others it wasn't. One thing that could be said about Michael was that he was genuinely interested in seeing that the other boy would enjoy himself - up until the point where his lust for penetration took over. Michael would then invite his young partner to take his half-hard maleness into his mouth. I remember it as not only a physically thrilling experience, but as an honor, to service such an awe-inspiring member. Sometimes he would ask the boy to suck his balls, each one a mouthful, but not always. At this point Michael would say something along the lines of, "Hey, do you wanna try something?" Michael would then maneuver you in his bed, onto your side facing the wall, and have you bend your knees so that your buttocks were presented to him. He would play with your bottom until he felt that you were ready and then he would retrieve some lubricant, usually Vaseline that he had nearby. Your breath would catch at the slippery feeling of Michael's fingers circling your most intimate opening, the delicate intrusions that increase in intensity causing delicious involuntary twitches. From this position Michael would be able to control the insertion of his firmed, but still flexible member. Usually the virgin boy could accept the skinned back head up until the first inch or two of Michael's widening shaft. There was a not unexpected progression from uncomfortable moans and tense grimaces to an inevitable sharp cry followed by a pleading to halt the proceedings. Michael would stop and withdraw. He would encourage the boy to turnover, face down lengthwise on the bed, and put his head on the pillow. A quick bestraddling would allow Michael to take a downward approach to the boy's now somewhat loosened anus. A reinsertion was fairly easily accomplished and Michael could introduce more of his member's length with the boy pinioned beneath him. Michael would tell the boy to bite the pillow if it became too uncomfortable. Generally you were able to slowly accept three or four inches of Michael's shaft in this position. After suitable period of time gently sliding his thick-girthed member in and out to loosen his partner's virgin opening, Michael would withdraw and have the boy get up and take a position on his back, his neck and shoulders against the wall, perpendicularly across the mattress. Michael would place a pillow beneath the boy's bottom and have the boy lift his legs, fully exposing his reddened, stretched ring. Michael would then reinsert himself and slowly take the boy below him, first to the limit that had been achieved while the boy was on his tummy. But then, there were no more half measures. Michael would take the boy fully, all of his six inches would be going in. No protestations, no pleas would be heeded; at this point Michael would have what he wanted. And most boys, if not then, then shortly after their defloration, would relish being taken. Michael's muscular legs would press the submitting boy's thighs forcefully back with his insistent thrusts. It was an overwhelming onslaught. When it happened to me it took my breath away. I felt myself fully penetrated. Michael's thick shaft had stretched my anus more than it ever had been before and his thick shaft filled my rectum deeper than I could've ever imagined. There were fitful spasms as my body tried to expel what it couldn't. I wrapped my legs and arms around Michael's sweaty torso trying to avoid being driven against the wall. The swirl of sensations was too much, I could only gasp and moan, unable to form words. The moans and the cries from the penetrated would drive Michael's lust until, rising up and with gritted teeth; he loosed his spurting semen into the taken boy pressed submissively below his taut flanks. Michael withdrew fairly quickly after he had had his way. He would get up, wipe himself clean and then, for short period of time before getting dressed, dance about, flopping his hanging member in joy at having had another boy. I know my reaction and the reaction of many other boys was to gaze at that instrument of ecstasy that had been within. I know I reveled in having intimately shared such a magnificent penis. Michael good-naturedly helped us up. For a few boys some of Michael's semen immediately slid from their still dilated opening and onto the bed's top blanket. It was a source of embarrassment, but Michael didn't seem to care; rather it affirmed his success. I know in my case and in most other boys' cases, we had to change our underwear soon after we made our way back to our own rooms. And yes, we were subject to quite a bit of embarrassing teasing by those boys who knew what had happened. I know I was flushed with erotic ardor for the remainder of the day after my having been taken by Michael. I masturbated as soon as I could be alone in the boy's lavatory. When I came, I felt stretched muscles of my anus burning with a warm glow. When I showered that evening I felt my bottom surreptitiously. I knew I wanted Michael to take me again. Dear Reader, I had this story lying around for some time; unfortunately I lost track of it. Please forgive the fact that it is far from perfect, but I thought I would post it rather than trash it as it has some satisfying passages. Your humble author, Five Hole Punch All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2013.