Date: Sat, 30 Mar 2019 21:35:51 +0000 From: puermalo1 Subject: The Grand Order of Ejaculatum THE GRAND ORDER OF EJACULATUM: A BOARDING-SCHOOL STORY The characters and events in this story are entirely fictitious. There is frequent and explicit depiction of sexual acts involving teenage boys so proceed no further if you are likely to be offended or if such material is forbidden to you. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Rupert Devereaux stretched his arms over his head and opened his eyes. It was of no use. He was still here in the dormitory and hadn't been dreaming. He snuggled down into the blankets and stared into the darkness. A thin, faint pencil of light was discernible straight ahead coming in through the top of the door from the hall. From either side came the gentle sounds of sleeping boys. He rather envied them, at least they were able to sleep. He wondered what time it was. Kennedy, the dorm prefect, had switched off the lights promptly at nine o'clock, and that seemed whole hours ago. It must be very late, and still he was not sleepy; on the contrary, he couldn't remember having ever been wider awake in his life. His thoughts flew from one thing to another. It had been very sudden, his change from home life to boarding-school. On reaching his thirteenth birthday, his parents confirmed the decision. Rupert would join his brother George, two years his senior, at Hardon Manor School. Within days, he had bidden a moist-eyed farewell to home and parents, and, in the care of his brother, set forth for boarding-school, filled with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. His arrival at school followed the time-honoured tradition of formal introductions to all the boys in his year. He had then shaken hands humbly with Fullerton, the eighteen-year-old Head Prefect, after which his first name effectively vanished and he officially become Devereaux. He and Kennedy, the boy in the bed next to his, had become firm friends in the short period of three hours. As they prepared for bed, Kennedy had said something to him that puzzled him. It seemed to Devereaux an enigmatic warning. "I say, Devereaux, if anything strange happens to-night, don't wake me; I don't want to know anything about it." It troubled young Devereaux and he had laid awake, hour after hour, or so it seemed, with ears strained for suspicious sounds. But none had come, and now—he yawned and turned over on the pillow—now he thought that he could go to sleep at last. He closed his eyes. Then he opened them again. It seemed hours later but was in fact scarcely five minutes. A bright light shone on his face. White-draped figures, silent and terrible, were about him. "Ghosts!" thought Devereaux. But before he could cry out in terror he realised his bed was surrounded by a gang of boys in their pyjamas. Amid the giggles, they threw back the blanket and sheet and leapt upon poor Devereaux. He was quickly pulled up from the bed and blindfolded. He was then conducted along corridors and down long flights of stairs, and out into the cold night air. The huddle of boys shepherded him across the courtyard and into the school gymnasium. Devereaux stumbled down to a halt and felt himself held in the grip of several boys' arms. "Newcomer," said a voice which sounded suspiciously like Fullerton's, "you have passed unscathed through the Vale of Death. The first trial of your initiation into the Grand Order of Ejaculatum is accomplished. Are you willing to undergo all five trials?" "Yes, I am," Devereaux replied. They can't be that bad, he thought, if the first one was just to be led here blindfolded. Had he not been blindfolded, this is the scene he would have witnessed: Standing upon the vaulting horse in the centre of the gym was the Head Prefect, attired in a velvet dressing gown of a burgundy hue. He was holding a leather belt in one hand. Below him, and surrounding Devereaux, were the six other boys of his dormitory. A single lamp provided a little light, adding to the clandestine atmosphere (but also to not draw the attention of the outside world that pupils were in the gym at this late hour). Devereaux saw none of this but he did hear the giggles of some of the boys nearby. "Silence!" the older boy commanded. Then he addressed Devereaux directly, "Newcomer, what is your name?" Devereaux sensed enough to realise that this was merely some kind of game, an induction to the school for all new boys. He was no longer afraid and answered confidently, "My name's Devereaux." "What is your age?" "I am thirteen." "What do you seek?" This last question puzzled Devereaux but before he could respond he was prompted by a voice that whispered in his ear, "Tell him that you seek membership of the Grand Order." Devereaux, who was now quite enjoying this amusing diversion, responded, "I seek membership of the Grand Order." "Prepare the candidate for the second trial," said the older voice in solemn tones. Devereaux was gripped once more by the younger boys and shuffled forward. A set of climbing bars stood against one wall of the gym and they positioned him alongside and facing them. Then they raised his arms and he felt himself being tied to the wooden bars. "What's going on?" asked Devereaux, more than a little concerned about what this trial was going to be. "It's fine, don't worry," said one of the boys. "It doesn't really hurt," said another. "Hurt?!" thought Devereaux, "What have I got myself into?" Before he could enquire further, he received the sudden shock of his pyjama bottoms being drawn smartly downwards. They fell to his ankles exposing his young rear to the gathering of boys. There were a few stifled giggles once more. "Silence!" ordered Fullerton, stepping down from his raised position and walking over to where Devereaux was pinioned. He spoke to the young lad. "If you are to pass the second trial you must not cry out, understand?" "Cry out?" asked Devereaux, "What are you going to do to me?" "You will receive seven strikes upon your rear, one from each member of the Grand Order," Fullerton explained, "That is the second trial." "You're not going to whack me, are you?!" "It will be fine," said one of the boys, "It's a sort of symbolic whipping." "A symbolic whipping? Gosh, that doesn't sound much fun at all!" "Yes, it won't really hurt," said another boy, "We've all prevailed over the second trail before." "And you must do so also, if you are to join the Grand Order," added another. "Very well, let's get it over with," Devereaux sighed. There was a clear running order for the administration of the second trial, based upon the length of time each of the younger boys had been members of the Grand Order. First to step forward was Aubrey Melcombe, a pretty-faced thirteen-year-old with blond curls. He took the belt from Fullerton and took up his position." "Begin the second trial," Fullerton intoned. Melcombe flicked the belt towards Devereaux buttocks. It was a firm strike, enough to make the boy jump but not enough to cause any real discomfort. Melcombe handed the belt to the next boy, Rufus Goldsworthy. He was a tall and slender lad with a shock of red hair and, like the others, in his thirteenth year. The belt found its mark, startling Devereaux again but not causing pain. Matthew Campbell took his turn next. He was a stockier lad and captain of the under-14 school rugby team. He administered the third gentle whack with the belt. "This is easy-peasy," thought Devereaux, "It will be over before I know it." Campbell passed the belt to the fourth boy who happened to be Simon Kennedy, Devereaux's new chum. The belt snapped at Devereaux's bum. "Ouch!" thought Devereaux, "I think I misjudged this trial rather." Alexander Sinclair-Adams, a diminutive boy despite his long name, delivered the fifth strike. Luckily for Devereaux, it was a gentle swipe again. The belt was entrusted to the last of the six boys, Hugo Falconer. As the most recent member of the Grand Order he had only ever been on the receiving end, as it were, and was now rather over-excited at being able to assist in the administration of the trials. He swung the belt at Devereaux's rear, slapping the boy firmly and making him tense. "Yowie!" cried Devereaux, smarting at the blow. "Silence!" Fullerton ordered, taking the belt from Falconer. "Only one left, Devereaux," encouraged Kennedy, "Then it's over with." Fullerton looked sternly at Kennedy, "Silence, Brother!" he demanded. Devereaux's rosy buttocks quivered and awaited the final strike of the belt. It was a firm smack, the crack of leather echoing around the gymnasium, making the youngster emit a sharp intake of breath before relaxing, knowing that the punishment was complete. Fullerton reached around the boy and felt Devereaux's penis. The exertions of the faux punishment had given the boy a hard erection and Fullerton toyed with the meaty four-incher briefly. "Who's that? Who's touching me there?" Devereaux gasped incredulously, "What's going on?" "You have successfully undertaken the second trial," announced Fullerton, "It has achieved the desired effect upon you!" The other boys gleefully checked out their new dorm chum. "Nice stiffie!" one commented, using the familiar schoolboy slang. "And decent pubes too," added another. Fullerton silenced them once more, "Unfasten him and bring him to the bench." The posse of younger boys quickly untied Devereaux's wrists. Still blindfolded, he rubbed his hands against his bum to reduce the stinging sensation. He was made to step out of his pyjama trousers and then manhandled towards a long, low wooden bench. Fullerton issued another solemn statement. "Does the newcomer wish to proceed with the third trial?" "Is it going to hurt like the last one?" Devereaux simpered. "No, the trials of hardship are complete." "Oh, goody," said Devereaux, relieved. "What's the next one then?" "Remove his clothing," commanded the prefect. Devereaux had gone way beyond caring about his nakedness by this point. Besides, the other boys had commented favourably about his erect penis and he was feeling a little smug. Indeed, all of this was exciting for him and he was now keen to discover how matters might proceed. He was soon completely naked except for the blindfold that remained securely fastened. "Prepare the newcomer for the third trial," Fullerton said. The boys first sat Devereaux down on the bench and then swung his legs around and pushed him back gently until he was lying along its length, his erect member pointing up towards the ceiling provocatively. He then heard various shuffling noises as his six dorm companions removed their own pyjamas, dropping them in a heap on the floor. Devereaux's penis twitched at the thought. How he wished he could see his friends – although the subjugation of the blindfold added a thrill that he couldn't quite explain. The six boys displayed a variety of penises to match their maturity and stature. Melcombe, already fully erect at a little over four inches, had a tuft of fair pubes to match his blond complexion. Goldsworthy's was long and thin, easily five inches. Wispy red pubes decorated the base and a few long, straggly pubes were visible on his scrotum. What Campbell lacked in length, maybe three inches, was compensated for by girth. He was gripping his penis with his fingers like a fat sausage. His pubes were the most developed of all the boys save the prefect himself. Kennedy and Falconer each possessed four-inch organs and little tufts of recently arrived hair. The latter was circumcised, the only one of the assembly marked thus. Finally, Sinclair-Adams, the least developed of them all with no visible hair to garnish his pretty three-incher. "What do I have to do?" Devereaux enquired. "You must put your hands behind your head and remain where you are. You must not interfere and you must accept everything my acolytes do, do you understand?" said Fullerton. "Very well." Turning to his `acolytes', the six thirteen-year-olds, the prefect continued. "First, you must do homage to your Grand Master." The six boys formed up in a line before the Head Prefect. He then unfastened the belt on his dressing gown and opened each side like two wings. He was naked beneath the gown and revealed a manly penis, engorged and straining forward. Each boy took his turn, kneeling before the hefty organ, grasping it firmly and enveloping as much as each could manage in his mouth. Fullerton remained static, hands on hips, looking upwards with his eyes closed as each of his affiliates sucked him. This was for him, perhaps, the finest part of each Grand Order meeting. The sense of power he felt over each of the youngsters, everyone of them compliant to his bidding, filled him with elation. As one boy sucked, others stood beside him and he dallied with their young organs feeling them throb between his fingers as if to feed his authority over the boys. Once each boy had completed his obeisance - a minute or so sucking and licking the prefect's weapon - they were permitted to play with one another. Devereaux, still motionless on the bench, had no idea of the scene unfolding around him other than what he could glean from the sounds of sucking and the occasional groans of delight. Boys were in all manner of poses as each young penis was manipulated and sucked, each pair of testicles was fondled and kissed, each pair of buttocks was caressed and cosseted, and every nipple tweaked and pinched. Fullerton looked upon his Brotherhood salaciously, working a fist slowly back and forth on an organ that was now lubricated with the spittle of the boys alongside his own copious precum. Devereaux's patience was finally rewarded. "Now the newcomer," instructed Fullerton. Instantly, his six acolytes ceased their amorous play with each other and turned their attentions upon the prostrate new boy. Devereaux gasped as he suddenly felt so many young hands on his smooth, warm nakedness. He squirmed as fingers were run around his pert nipples and up and down his chest. He wriggled with delight as hands fondled his iron-hard penis and delicately twisted the two juvenile testicles in the hairless scrotum. He twitched as his thighs and buttocks were deftly explored. All the while, the boys around him continued to fondle themselves and one another, gradually working themselves towards completion. The debauchery continued for several minutes until the Grand Master spoke again. "It is time," he said, "You know what you must do." The six boys now stood, three on one side of Devereaux and three on the other. Now they concentrated on themselves, fervently masturbating their youthful prongs in their preferred manner. The bigger boys tended to prefer the grip of a fist while the less well-endowed manipulated themselves with one or two finger tips. "What's happening?" Devereaux asked. "Be still, newcomer," Fullerton replied, "Do not move and prepare thyself for the Ejaculatum!" Devereaux wasn't sure quite what was about to happen, although he had figured out the meaning of ejaculatum and was now anticipating a rather sticky mess. He wasn't to be disappointed. Moments later Goldsworthy shuffled forward and, with a grimace and gasp, shot several pearly droplets of semen from his slender five-incher. They spattered down upon Devereaux who tensed as the warm fluid dripped on his chest. It was as if Goldsworthy heralded a surge of boyish orgasms as each of them moved forward to deposit their offering on the helpless boy. Kennedy and Campbell were what can loosely be described as `squirters', their milky liquid firing with some force onto Devereaux. Melcombe and Falconer took the `oozers and drippers' style, their contributions trickling from their penises before plopping onto the boy beneath. Even Sinclair-Adams managed to produce a couple of droplets from his immature organ and he squeezed his foreskin, urging them out. Collecting them on a finger he smeared the sticky residue onto each of Devereaux's young nipples. "You have passed the third trial, Newcomer," proclaimed Fullerton, stepping forward. "Thanks," Devereaux replied, "Can I get up now? I'm rather covered in spunk!" "No, if you stop now you will not be able to join the Brotherhood." "What must I do, then?" "The fourth trial is this: You must let me put my penis in your mouth until it brings forth the elixir of the Grand Order itself!" "You mean...?" "Yes, you must drink of the Ejaculatum!" Devereaux hesitated. "I'm not so sure," he complained, "That all sounds rather dirty to me!" "It's fine," Kennedy said. "We've all done it," said Melcombe. "Come on, Devereaux, don't let the dorm down," added Falconer. "Very well," Devereaux responded, "I'll do it!" "Hurrah!" several boys called out. "Go on, Fullerton, let him have it," said Kennedy, briefly forgetting his place. "Silence, minion!" said the prefect, restoring the sense of decorum to the proceedings. The senior boy knelt beside Devereaux. "Behold!" he stated, rather grandly. He held his rigid penis out and slapped the glistening, exposed head onto the young boy's lips. "Open!" he commanded. Feeling the hot knob on his lips, Devereaux gulped apprehensively, took a deep breath and obligingly opened his mouth. Fullerton slid the length of his large member against Devereaux's tongue. The boy licked the shaft's length and then turned his head slightly to allow increased access. Fullerton pushed slowly into the boy's mouth. An inch, then two inches. Then three. Devereaux gagged as the sturdy weapon filled his mouth and probed his throat. Fullerton withdrew a little. As much as he yearned to shove his full length into the boy, he certainly didn't wish to cause him distress. He contented himself with a couple of inches and Devereaux resumed sucking the engorged head. The rest of the Brotherhood looked on excitedly. There own organs still had some of their stiffness and they fondled one another as they observed. After a few minutes, the prefect spoke, "Prepare thyself, newcomer, the end is nigh." Seconds later he spewed forth large dollops of hot semen, directing them into Devereaux's mouth as best as he could despite his orgasmic trembling. Some of the thick fluid drooled onto the boy's face but most of it found its mark. Devereaux, tasting the saltiness of Fullerton's nectar, swallowed as best he could. Fullerton finished with a groan and squeezed the last of his semen from his penis, daubing it onto the young boy's cheeks. He stood and, with a flourish, quickly fastened his dressing gown. "You have drunk worthily, newcomer," he declared, "And the fourth trial is complete. Do you wish to face the fifth and final trail?" Devereaux swallowed, trying to clear the thick semen that seemed to cling to the back of his throat, and said, "I do." "Remove the blindfold," ordered the prefect. Devereaux was finally able to survey the scene. Once he had grown accustomed to the light, he first looked down at his slender young frame. Several shiny puddles and smears adorned him, the evidence of six boys' ejaculations. He now looked around him at his naked dorm chums. They had wicked grins and sparkles in their eyes, and each of them was coaxing his penis back to full stiffness. Finally he looked at Fullerton, standing once more upon the raised horse looking imperious. The prefect spoke, "The fifth trial is to bring yourself to completion. Only those who can produce the special fluid may join the Grand Order!" "That's easy," thought Devereaux, "All I have to do is wank myself off!" "You must elect one of the Brotherhood to administer the final motions." "I choose Kennedy," replied Devereaux directly. His new friend stepped forward willingly, knelt beside him and took hold of the stiff four-incher. Devereaux gasped with delight. The frustration of being unable to touch his own penis throughout the sexual capers that had gone before had been almost unbearable. At last he felt it held in a firm grip. He sighed contentedly as Kennedy jerked his hand up and down the small staff, easing the knob head beyond the constraints of the foreskin. "It's coming," Devereaux panted, thrusting his hips upwards as his climax arrived. The boy panted and the gathered assembly watched with delight as two little spurts of boy juice were ejected. The milky fluid landed on Devereaux's belly as he gasped once more. Once he had recovered, Fullerton went over to him. "Arise, Brother Devereaux, you have endured all five trails and I hereby welcome you to our secret society, the Grand Order of Ejaculatum!" The other boys applauded. "Well done!" said one, "Jolly decent show!" laughed another. "Be still!" Fullerton ordered, then he spoke to Devereaux again. "There are showers next door. Go and clean yourself up and then return to the dormitory." Devereaux hurried towards the showers, trickles of boy semen dribbling down his body. Fullerton had one final announcement, "I declare this session of the Grand Order closed. All matters are discharged. Now get yourselves dressed and back to your beds promptly and quietly." The six boys scampered off, pulling their pyjamas back on as they departed. Fullerton ambled towards the showers where he found young Devereaux soaping himself and cleansing his lithe frame of the sticky remnants. "You did well, Devereaux," the prefect smiled, his manner no longer haughty, "Our Grand Order has other treats for you to look forward to, I'm so pleased you're joining us." "Thanks, Fullerton, it was a bit scary at first but I'm glad I stuck it out to the end." "Oh, I loved the way you stuck it out!" laughed Fullerton, "I can't wait for you to stick it out again!" Devereaux giggled. "Now hurry up with the shower," the prefect said, "I want you back in your bed in five minutes. And remember, we're a secret society, so never ever speak of it to another soul." "Very well, Grand Master!" grinned Devereaux, reaching for a towel. The Grand Order of Ejaculatum had a new member! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . This is intended as a one-off, stand alone story. If you are keen to see it proceed, or have any other comments or suggestions, you are most welcome to get in touch: puermalo1 @ protonmail.com. PLEASE CONSIDER DONATING TO NIFTY TO KEEP THIS GREAT RESOURCE VIBRANT. Thank you.