Date: Wed, 13 Feb 2013 19:58:07 +0000 From: tom Subject: Brief Encounters Chapter 113 Brief Encounters - the ever continuing saga... eekkk! First the mandatory warnings and disclaimers - basically don't read this if the naughty sexual exploits of young teenage schoolboys do not appeal. The characters depicted are fictional and not intentionally based upon any one person... although, if you do suddenly find yourself in the middle of the story just think how lucky you are! This is ostensibly a work of fiction, albeit with a few memories from my own school days plus some of the many invariably unspoken fantasies which I and my "best friends" would only ever rarely admit or allude to when we were at that very special, trusting and certainly innocent age. Today, it's very hard to imagine what it was like without the internet to immediately help conjure up fantasies based on images, webcams, stories or chat. Our sex lives were entirely dependant upon a very fervent imagination and thus being able to create our own fantasies usually based on friends and what we saw happening beneath the desk or in the changing rooms! I make no excuses for the fact that underwear features prominently in this story, because quite frankly it did, it was a very visible and tangible connection between us and our ever developing fascination with sex! It's important to remember that other than the very rare sexual extrovert, we never dared mention the subject because we were just too embarrassed and nobody understood what was happening to us anyway! You might call it a story about the age of discovery - usually in bed - or if you shared a bedroom with a brother, then discovery would be in the bathroom! Do note, at the time of writing the story itself is not finished and for better or worse, it has now turned into a work of some length but I will regularly post updates and there are more than enough pages written to keep it going! Nifty require a text file so if the formatting or punctuation go slightly up the creek you now know why! And, also during the writing for various reason I have had to change character names, so I hope for continuity they are now correct! Finally, I hope you enjoy it and please, please do let me have any comments or suggestions and for some of you I it might even jog a memory or two, three if you are lucky... I would be intrigued to learn! Tom email: amias09@fastmail.fm *************************************************************************************************** >>>>>>>>>>> Now your attention please faithful readers as it's time to put in word for our sponsor. Or, in plain English I wouldn't be getting my epic published and you wouldn't be reading it if it were not for the Nifty Archive, so if you enjoy what you read then please, please consider making a donation to Nifty. It's very easy and painless, you just follow the donations link on the main page - I'm sure even our oversexed and luckess hero Art from the story would do it if he could - come to that, he'd do it anywhere! #################################################################### Chapter 113 – Honour amongst thieves "What the..." "Oh my god.." "The little b.." "Ah.. no.. that's enough." Mr Woods's finger forestalled the expletives. "What's up with these damn kids! Vandals, the lot of them! D'you know there's something stuck in the science block toilets and it's and made a hell of mess, not to mention the stink!" "No, I don't know. Nevertheless, Mr Bucknall easy on the language please it is a school after all and these things will happen." "All to damned often if you ask me!" "Quite." replied Mr Woods giving him a sideways look. Surely to work in a school required an affinity for the pupils not consanguinity. Having both been brought back to the toilets to explain what had happened Robin looked at Richard and winced. With the floor flooded and scattered with bits of broken cistern and toilet seat, Art was still clutching the leaking ballcock and looking as though he were about to expire. It didn't bode well. "Weldon! What the hell's happened?" It was rare for Mr Woods to loose his cool, but he was dangerously close. The tipping point being the numerous interruptions and then having to leave his class unattended. As such the class were under threat of multiple detentions for bad behaviour whilst he was absent and although it wasn't the ideal solution, it was imperative that he saw for himself what had happened. It was sheer chance that Mr Woods had met Mr Bucknall in the corridor, a short stocky man nicknamed by the pupils as Mr Fuckall, who was in charge of school maintenance. Frequently, albeit not without some judicious baiting and the discovery of a minor property infringement he could be guaranteed to loose his temper. This event was to be no exception. Storming across the wet floor he headed into the cubicle and roughly pulled Art's hand away from the ballcock which immediately sprayed a jet of water over them both. "Gently, Mr Bucknall. Gently." Mr Woods looked Art. It certainly wasn't the usual smiling Arthur Weldon he knew, who looking absolutely awful began to slowly squelch his way over. "Fancy him doing all this, the little... sheer wanton damage!" steamed Mr Bucknall, "Vandals the lot of them!" "We actually don't know who did anything yet, now do we?" there was an edge to Mr Woods voice having seen the way Art had been manhandled and how he looked. "I'll deal with the boy's and you deal with the plumbing." Now wet, Mr Bucknall took a very deep breath stared at Art then back to the broken cistern and visibly fumed. "And, so what happened?" Mr Woods looked at Art, he just stood there. Something was definitely wrong. "Was it you or not?" "No, no, it was us.." mumbled Robin, kicking Richard's shin. "Wunnit? Tell him." Mumbling incoherently Richard nodded. Having seen the fragile state which Art was now in, somehow it seemed necessary to take the blame with Robin especially as they knew Art had more than enough problems at school as it was. "We was messing about.. and.. we.. uumm.. we broke it.. and.. and.." "Yes, and what?" Mr Woods was unsure if was the truth, but at least somebody was owning up to it which would no doubt help pacify the incandescent Mr Bucknall. "And.. well.. umm.. well Art comes in and we.. we gets him to hold the ball thing while we.. uumm.. goes.. back to.. to tell you... Sir.." Robin looked hopefully at Richard for further confirmation, "didn't we?" Richard nodded again. "We need Bert, right now." called out Mr Bucknall irritably. "Can't you send one of those boys and tell him to bring his tools. He should be in the maintenance shed." "Who's Bert?" Mr Woods looked puzzled for a moment. "Oh, you mean the old plumber?" "Yes." snapped Mr Bucknall now realising he was trapped in the toilet holding the ballcock until help arrived. "Get who, Sir?" asked Robin. "I know him," Richard finally found his voice and coincidentally an excuse to escape, "shall I get him Sir?" "Yes, go on." Mr Woods sighed. Could the day possibly get any worse. "Well hurry up, I can't stay here holding this damn thing all day!" "Don't think either of you two are getting away that easily, we will need to sort this out." Mr Woods looked between Robin and Richard. "Jones, now just go and get this Bert man if you know what he looks like." "Sir." "Weldon, are you alright?" Mr Woods turned to look at Art, plainly he wasn't alright and being virtually soaked through didn't help his forlorn appearance. It also appeared to Mr Woods that possibly it wasn't actually the current predicament that was really troubling him. "No, yes," he mumbled without looking up, "sort of.. Sir.." "You look pretty awful to me." "Uumm.." "He fell over bad when he ran to help us and he's cut his bum Sir!" added Robin who watched enviously from the corner of his eye as Richard shot out of the room at high speed. "He's done what? Come on turn round, let me see." "See Sir, it's been bleeding. Look." Robin pointed excitedly to Art's wet trousers. "Oh, he certainly has." without really thinking Mr Woods peered behind Art, through the large tear in the seat of the trousers to see a deep cut a good inch long which was still seeping blood over his leg and trousers. "Where's that plumber?" came the unhappy voice from the cubicle. "I can't hold this damn thing all day." "One of the boys has gone to get him." Mr Woods was barely able to conceal a smile at Mr Bucknall's enforced discomfort and shrugged his shoulders. Plainly there was no love lost between the two of them. "Uhh! Well I hope he damn well hurries up." "Come on you two, let's get out of here, I must get back to class." he looked at Robin. "You take Weldon to the school nurse to get that cut attended to right now." "Yes Sir." Having got in the corridor and away from Mr Bucknall, Mr Woods put his hand on Art's shoulder as he was about to follow Robin. "Actually, just hang on a minute, let me look at that cut again the lights much better out here." "Yes Sir." After a minute he stood up and looked at Art, his nagging doubt confirmed. "Weldon, far be it from me to say this, but in addition to you being very wet you don't seem to be wearing any underpants, your trousers have a big hole and there's quite lot of blood on them and you." "Me pants is in me bag!" mumbled Art. Immediate concerns as to embarrassment in present situation were way down on his list of priorities compared to how he imagined his mother might react. "I think maybe you should put them back on, I expect the nurse will want to examine that cut without your trousers." "Yeah right, they're in me bag." repeated Art. "Of course they are, well put them on." replied Mr Woods thinking the whole episode was getting somewhat surreal. More importantly he was becoming concerned at Art's flattened persona which was so very different from his usual lively self, even when it usually entailed a telling off. A great student of history he may not have been, but nevertheless he could always be relied upon to add something to brighten up the lesson. "What are we going to do with you?" "Dunno.. Sir." Art looked balefully up. "I dunno." "Is there something else worrying you?" "Uum.. no.. no.." he rapidly shook his head and from the look on his face might as well have answered, yes. "What bus do you get to go home?" Time to try another approach. "The uum.. the twenty, why? "Good. I think I will give you a lift today as it's not far out of my way. You can't go home looking like this you parents will wonder what sort of school this is." "No.. no.. no... me mum... she'll.." he stopped in mid sentence his voice faltered. "She'll what?" Mr Woods looked at him. "Are you in trouble at home?" "No, no... Sir, no, no... I'll just get the bus." "I think she'll go mad seeing you looking like this won't she?" "Uumm.. no.." It hadn't taken a great deal of effort on Mr Woods' part to work out from Art's reactions that all was not going to be well unless there were a plausible explanation for his appearance when he returned home. "She'll go nuts," suddenly blurted out Robin. "she's been going on at him for ages!" "Thanks a.. fff.. bunch!" said Art very unhappily, inadvertently confirming the real reason for his demeanour. "Just shut up." "Don't blame him, he's only trying to help." Mr Woods looked between them knowing he'd never get the true story. What he did get though, was a sense of the depth of loyalty between them and an insight into Art's family life which currently seemed to be having a profoundly negative effect on his character. "I know he is." mumbled Art looking away. "Would it help if I were to tell her it wasn't your fault? After all these two have said it was nothing to do with you and that it was just an unfortunate accident? "Sir.. but.." Art's eyes flashed momentarily with signs of life, "would you? Why?" "Well, I'm certainly not lying for you. But, it seems unfair that your mother might blame you unnecessarily if it wasn't your fault." he looked at Robin, "So, provided Loxley will assure me categorically that he and Jones were the root cause of this shambles I will explain that to her." The root cause. Robin shuffled his feet. Reading between the lines he knew that Mr Woods didn't entirely believe their story and that in some way Art had been involved, but this could offer an amicable solution. As Art had already quickly deduced if by root cause it meant that Robin and Richard were never in the toilet in the first place, then neither would he have been balanced on the cistern and hence no accident. Eureka. And, coincidentally Archimedes discovery also involved with water as well. Lateral thinking was stretched to the vertical even if it did take a few more moments for Robin to see the lifeline Art had been given. "Yes Sir, it was, it was me and Richard." Robin sounded as convincing as he could, having finally arrived at the much the same conclusion as Art. "And, you'll accept whatever punishment is given?" "Yes.. we will." said Robin quite firmly. "Good." said Mr Woods. "Now, I'll need to find out what the damage amounts to, so I'll see you both sometime tomorrow instead of later this afternoon." "Will you, will you really speak with me mum Sir?" Art looked up. "Really?" "Yes, but I'll have to clear it all with the office. You wait for me by my car after the last lesson. Meantime Loxley, I'll write you a quick note for the nurse then you get his bag and take him along. I'll deal with you and James tomorrow." "Yes Sir." "Who said there was no honour amongst thieves?" said Mr Woods to Art as he turned to go back to the mayhem that was doubtless awaiting him in the classroom. "Wot's all that mean?" asked Robin after he'd gone a few paces. "Means," Art managed a weak smile, "he knows we's a bunch of fuckin' liars and we was all involved one way or the other and we's helping each other out." "Oh fuck!" "But wot a nice bloke, `cause somehow he's guessed I'd be in deep shit with mum." Art blinked. "Wonder how he knew?" "No idea." Robin smiled knowingly, "maybe he's got them fuckin' crystal balls like in Nige's old joke!" "Yeah maybe." Art closed his eyes for a second. "And, wot a pair of mates you and Richard is, I think I owes you." "Oh fuck you. Just wait here, I'll go get yer bag so you can put yer pants back on and that note." Flushed with embarrassment, Robin pushed past Art and hurried back to the classroom. A minute later the ubiquitous Bert the plumber appeared carrying a large bag of tools and crashed his way past Art into the toilet. Finally managing a smile, Art heard the heated exchange between the two men with Mr Bucknall shouting about his ballcock whilst Bert complained in very plain Anglo Saxon about just having to work in a veritable sea of excrement to unblock the science block toilets! "Didn't you come in here recently?" "Wot! Sorry, I means pardon!" "I've a good memory for faces and you do look familiar." "I do?" stuttered Art. "Oh yes, I'm sure it'll come to me in a minute," Mrs Wright smiled and got up from her small desk, "now Arthur, I gather you've have an accident and cut yourself. Where?" "In the bog... sorry toilet!" "Oh, no, no! I mean where on your body is the cut?" "On me, me bum!" Art's voice was barely audible. "Sorry, where, I missed that?" "Here, here." Art, going redder by the second jabbed a finger in the direction of his buttock. "Turn round then, let's have a look." Slowly Art turned to allow Mrs Wright to lean over to inspect the damage. Robin was sat silently on a chair in the corner of the room wondering if after all the fuss he would get a chance to see Art's bum and red briefs really close up. "Hhmm, your trousers are rather wet." she said rather disapprovingly. "I can't help, see it was an accident wunnit?" replied Art. "I suppose so, but it's hard to see in that position. You seem to have put a big hole in your trousers and bled so much your pants have turned red. I must have a proper look, just drop your trousers and hop up onto the couch then lie face down." "Wot now?" Art sounded horrified. Which he was. "Well yes, it's not the first time I've seen boys undress you know. I do have son of my own." she smiled, defrosting a little having realised that her early finish was not to be quite so early and from the blood the cut did look as though it needed her services. "Come along before the lesson bell goes." Art was thanking the almighty for the fact on the way he'd had the sense to rush into the toilets and put his red briefs back on even if they were still somewhat damp and smelling strongly of spunk. Slowly unzipping his fly and equally slowly he lowered his trousers, hoping his shirt would disguise the inevitable erection which was now forming. "Oh!" surprised Mrs Wright looked at the red briefs now showing beneath his shirt. "You're wearing your swimming trunks." "No Miss," Art sounded rather fraught and tried to turn around to see her, but being partially bent over it proved rather difficult, he said quietly, "it's me red pants Miss!" "Sorry, I didn't quite hear you, what was that? Don't you have any proper underpants?" she continued to look at his buttocks. "And, I think you'd better get up on the couch please." "It's red me pants!" he said very loudly. Looking as red as his briefs he added at even higher volume, just so there was no mistake, "It's me pants! I got red pants Miss!" Staring at the tight fitting briefs, Robin tried not to laugh. "There's no need to raise your voice." she looked a little disapproving, "Yes, now I can see you have red underpants. Most unusual, I've never seen boys underwear in anything other than white. It's what everybody wears!" To Art it seemed like red briefs to a bull. "I also got, blue, black and white!" "Good lord!" It was a typically naive, maternal type of comment from somebody who obviously didn't appreciate the status of the wearing tight coloured underwear, when all around were doomed to wear boring white Y-fronts. With Art unable to actually explain the cachet regarding sexy underpants and the mandatory erection induced whenever he wore them, he looked at her as though she had arrived from another planet. However, bravado soon became embarrassment once his trousers were dropped and the sweet smell of the teenage spunk which had been contained in them was released to scent the air. In the corner Robin sniffed and muffled a snigger whilst feeling his cock though his pocket, a particularly enjoyable experience since he still had no underpants on. "Hop up then and I'll have a look," said Mrs Wright, who now knowing all about Art's underwear appeared to be calming down a little, "I must say it looks like it has been bleeding quite a bit." "Has it stopped then Miss?" asked Art anxiously as he tried to pull himself on the couch, which with his trousers now around his ankles and his red briefs almost pushed in her face display he was finding the manoeuvre rather tricky, not to say slightly humiliating. "I'll tell you in second when you are up there. I'm just going to pull your underpants down to have a proper look." she sniffed. That strange smell again. "You wot?" he exclaimed. However obvious it should have been, it had never occurred to him that the nurse would have to pull his underpants down as well as his trousers to inspect the injury. "I won't be a second, I'll just wash my hands." "Wot! I ain't dirty!" Trapped on the couch he couldn't see what was happening medically, but he could see that Robin was massaging something through his pocket. Seconds later a pair of strange hands grasped the waistband of his briefs from behind to gently ease the elastic away from his body and down over his buttocks. "Oh no!" shrieked Art as much in fright as by being overcome by the rich aroma of congealing semen, tinged with par fume d'Izal that was instantly released to pervade the entire room. "Phew..." murmured Robin moments later still desperately trying not to laugh as he drew in the familiar smells. "Don't be a baby, I won't hurt you!" she sniffed again, maybe it was some form of medicated Izal soap he was using. Totally mistaking the panic over his briefs being pulled down for fear of physical pain Mrs Wright wisely made no comment on the smell, instead she looked closely at his spotty white buttocks. "It's looks quite a deep cut, but luckily it appears to have stopped bleeding, I'll have to clean it up before I can dress it." "OK, OK!" muttered Art, speaking face down into an examination couch and trying to hide a growing erection was never intended to be easy. Robin, now having started playing with himself was finding it difficult to stop, the sight of which was to the horizontal Art a veritable visual aphrodisiac. "This might sting a little, but since you say the accident happened in the toilet we really must make sure there are no nasty germs there." Resigned to the fact that irrespective of Robin massaging himself through his pocket, Art's cock had yet again confirmed it's intention to become erect whenever his briefs were been pulled down. Forcing it into the couch and closing his eyes two thoughts ran through his mind, first that it felt very sexy and second that surely the day couldn't get any worse. Listening to sounds of water being drawn and bottles moved about he fretted about how much of a fool he had made of himself yet again, all because of his total addiction to masturbation. "Right, this might sting a tiny bit. Now, are you ready?" asked Mrs Wright from behind. Holding an economy school size bottle of surgical spirit she allowed several large drops to fall onto a pad of cotton wool. "Yer, I `spose so." came the muffled reply. "Won't sting too much will it?" "No, hardly at all, it's a weak solution. Just lay still for a minute." With bottle and saturated cotton wool in either hand she approached his pimply white mounds with all the intent and enthusiasm of Jack the Ripper. Being a great believer in the mythical powers of surgical spirit, she had wondered whilst she was at it whether a good swabbing might do wonders for the impressive range of partially beheaded acne pustules that adorned pubescent his buttocks. Robin watched closely hoping to catch sight of Art's nether regions as Mrs Wright prepared herself for action by the side of the couch. "Ready, this won't hurt." she smiled as she looked at the fine selection decimated spots. "One.. two... three..." "Oooowwwwhhhhhhh! ssshhhiiiii... fffffffffuuuuu... `eellllll!" Feeling as though his bum had been stabbed by a thousand pins Art literally leapt up from the couch completely knocking the cotton wool and bottle of surgical spirit from Mrs Wright's hands. The bottle immediately emptied itself over both buttocks, the spirit finding it's way into every crease and crevice of his lower body. "I've beeeeennn ffuuucccc stabbeddd... helllpppp... ohhh ffuuuu..." Both Robin and Mrs Wright looked on in amazement as he shook and shuddered, the fluid ran down between his legs allowing even the merest of sore spots to make their presence painfully felt. Worse, his much abused cock felt it were almost on fire, being invariably sore around the head from constant masturbation the fluid flooded over it and then dripped onto the couch. It really did sting. Really. However once the spirit started to evaporate, the effect of having so many parts of his anatomy drastically sterilised at once began to wear off, leaving him with a stabbing pain which could only be one thing. The surgical spirit had entered the cut and was indeed killing all the nasty germs, although it felt as though it were killing him! Such was the power of the spirit that he again leapt off the couch with the biting pain at which point his briefs having already been pulled well down decided to finally released their hold on his erection. Sat level with the top of the couch Robin has a first class view as Art's boyhood flashed proudly into view only to be crushed painfully onto the spirit impregnated couch as he landed on top of it. "Oooowwww mmee ccoo... oohhhhhh... me... me.. ffuuu... me pppllllluuummms!!" he cried in anguish rapidly pushing both hands underneath his body to assuage his badly deranged member and squashed balls. "Me..it's mee...me.. coocckkkkss... broken... it'sss... ffuuuu... bentttt!!!" Robin couldn't contain his laughter, whereas Mrs Wright looked on in horror at what she had started and what thought she had heard. "Oh no!" she exclaimed looking at the sterilized white mounds. "Oh, now it's started bleeding again!" Robin was in hysterics. Mrs Wright was in a state of panic. Art was really was in agony with tears were in his eyes. Not only did the cut feel as though it had a knife stuck in it, but his cock had first been sterilised, now bent double and he was utterly convinced his balls were longer spherical! ############################################## Chap 114 to follow