Falconsmere:
The Chosen Ones
by
Pink Panther
This
story includes instances of underage boys having sex, both with adult males and
with each other. If this is not what you want to read, please leave this page
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Chapter Ten
On
the first Sunday in September, the boys returned to Falconsmere.
Another new school year was about to begin. As he always did on these
occasions, headmaster Marcus Johnstone spent the day greeting parents as they
delivered their sons into the school's care.
At
five o'clock, with the last of the parents having departed, he returned to his
room. Barely two minutes later, there was a knock on the door. To his surprise,
James Ashcombe appeared.
"Good
afternoon!" he greeted. "I wasn't expecting to see you
just yet. What can I do for you?"
"Good
afternoon, sir. I came to tell you that I will no longer be coming to this room
so you can do stuff with me."
Although
he remained outwardly calm, Mr Johnstone was incensed that a boy on whom he'd lavished a great deal of time would speak to him so
abruptly.
"I
see!" he replied evenly. "And what led you to this decision?"
"As
you know sir, I was very keen to become captain of the rugby team. I was
willing to do almost anything to achieve it. I also knew that you decide who's going to be captain, so I needed to keep you onside.
Well, what you wanted was to do sex-stuff with me. I never really wanted to,
but at first it was just a bit of messing about, so I went along with it. But
gradually, you wanted more and more, and for at least six months, I let you do
whatever you wanted. But at the end of last term, you named me as rugby team
captain and I finally got what I wanted. So, I think it's
time we called it quits, don't you, sir?"
For
a few seconds, the headmaster didn't answer. Although far
from happy, he knew that his activities with Ashcombe and his other special
boys placed him on very thin ice. He also had to concede that Ashcombe had been
calm, well-prepared and articulate, and the boy's timing had been impeccable.
One
of Marcus's strengths was a keen sense of which battles he needed to fight, and
which ones he ought to walk away from. This was one of the latter. Ashcombe had
clearly made up his mind; there was nothing to be gained by trying to persuade
him otherwise. It was time for damage limitation.
"Very
well," he said calmly. "If that's what you want. Let
me say that you will still have my full support as captain of the rugby team. I
gave you the position because you were the best candidate, and I'm sure you'll go an outstanding job. I look forward to
working with you to achieve another successful season."
"Thank
you, sir!"
As
James left the room, he was surprised that Mr Johnstone had caved so readily,
but relieved that he had. If the headmaster had taken a different line, things
could have become very difficult.
Sitting
back in his chair, Mr Johnstone assessed the situation. While annoyed that he'd allowed himself to be blindsided by a twelve-year old,
he realised that he should have seen it coming.
In
appearing to tie the position of team captain to Ashcombe's willingness to
provide him with sexual favours, he'd subjected the
boy to undue pressure. He'd taken advantage of the
fact that Ashcombe hadn't realised what a strong position he was in. The lad wasn't just a candidate for the position of rugby captain;
he was by far the best, and everyone knew it.
Had
he, as team coach, given the captaincy to someone else, the other boys in the
team would have queried it, as would his colleagues. He might even have faced
questions from the trustees. It would not have been worth the trouble.
What
Ashcombe did seem to have worked out was that having been given the captaincy,
the headmaster would not take it away from him unless he did something
seriously wrong. Mr Johnstone considered
that to be most unlikely. In any case, his future was totally tied to the
success of the school and its growing reputation. With the rugby team being a
key part of that, he wanted Ashcombe to succeed.
However,
Ashcombe's decision did leave him with one problem. Although he still had Danny
Fisher, having sex with only one boy would not keep him happy for long. But
with the start of the Autumn term being such a busy time, for the moment, he'd have to leave things as they were. He'd deal with it
later.
0
o 0 o 0 o 0
When
Mr Price came to select another boy for extra tuition, he'd
already decided who it was going to be. A born risk-taker, Bradley Horton was
the class clown; an accidental anarchist. Mr Price had caned him several times
for the various stunts he'd pulled, some of which
could have been quite dangerous.
Although
he was another low-achiever, Bradley was a good-looking boy. Tall for his age,
he had much better physique than most of the boys who fell into Mr Price's
clutches. He would have had the makings of a decent rugby player, except that
he tended to `forget' which team he was playing for, and pass the ball to the
opposition, or kick it the wrong way.
Most
of the boys didn't dislike Bradey, but knowing that
getting too close to the lad could land them in trouble, they were wary of him.
The exception was Jason Brooks, the biggest boy in their year group and a rugby
fanatic. Enraged by Bradley's antics, he'd threatened
to beat the lad up if he disrupted any more of their games.
Mr
Johnstone had immediately intervened, warning Jason that such behaviour would
not be tolerated, and might even rule him out of ever being allowed to
represent the school. It was one of the few times that Mr Price had agreed with
something that the headmaster had done.
0
o 0 o 0 o 0
Rugby
training began on the Tuesday afternoon, two days after the boys' return to
school. Although it was primarily for boys who were looking to represent the
school, all the boys in the two oldest year groups were welcome to attend.
Younger boys could attend by invitation only.
As
he looked around the changing room, team captain James recognised almost all
the boys present. They included Jason Brooks who was two years below James, and
considered to be a star player in the making. Although he was not old enough to
play in school matches, Mr Johnstone had decided that he should train with the
older boys rather than with lads his own age that he could totally dominate.
"Good
to have you here!" James said warmly, offering his hand. "Listen, learn, and
get stuck in. I'm sure you'll do very well!"
"Thanks!"
Jason responded, acknowledging that even for him, training with the first team
was a big step up.
However,
there were two boys present that James didn't know.
Apart from the fact that they were in the year group below his, he knew nothing
about either of them, not even their names. He strode across to them.
"Hi!"
he said brightly. "I don't think we've met. "I'm James
Ashcombe, the team captain."
The
boys introduced themselves as Simon Harvey and Tristan Clarke. James was
puzzled. If they'd been good players, he'd have known
who they were, so why were they here?
As
the training session got underway, he began to get some answers. Simon was
enthusiastic, reasonably quick, and not afraid of tackling the bigger boys,
even though his technique wasn't very good. His
ball-handling wasn't great either, but those were
things he could work on. If he was willing to do that, he might do okay.
Tristan,
on the other hand, was poor. He was slow, dropped the ball frequently, and was
reluctant to tackle boys of his own size, much less the bigger lads. So why had
he turned up for training when he didn't have to?
James
speculated that Simon had wanted to give it a try and had dragged his friend Tristan
along with him. In the absence of any other explanation, it was all he could
think of.
The
real explanation began to emerge at the end of the session when they returned
to the changing room. For Tristan, rugby training was an opportunity to hang
out with the other boys, especially the older ones. He lingered in the showers,
surreptitiously checking them out.
As
a result of his association with Mr Johnstone, James spotted it immediately. The
boy was clearly available, and with blue eyes, blond hair
and a slim physique, he was cute too. He was just waiting for someone to show
an interest.
As
team captain, James was in pole position, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Having
sex with a younger boy would make him no better than Mr Johnstone. He wasn't going to do that!
0
o 0 o 0 o 0
The
formal part of Mr Price's first tutorial with Bradley Horton went much as he'd expected, with the boy showing little interest, no
matter how much the deputy head barked at him.
"Okay,
that'll be enough for this evening!" he rasped eventually, irritated by the
boy's refusal to engage, and the resultant lack of progress. "Now stand up and
take off your dressing gown!"
The
boy didn't hesitate for a second, following the deputy
head's instructions to the letter. A moment later, Mr Price removed Horton's
pyjamas, noticing immediately that the lad was already hard in his underpants.
Quickly
skinning them down the miscreant's legs, he exposed Horton's uncut penis. 10cm
long and 9cm in circumference, it was impressively large for a boy who was
still a few weeks short of his tenth birthday.
Unable
to resist the temptation, Mr Price took it into his mouth. He sucked it
steadily, savouring how hard and smooth it was.
"Oh,
yeah!" Bradley exhaled.
Mr
Price immediately let him go.
"Your
turn now!" he barked, getting to his feet. "Kneel down and take it out!"
Once
again, there was no hesitation. Within a couple of seconds, Horton was kneeling
on the floor, expertly sucking the deputy head's thick 19cm cock. Mr Price was
stunned. He hadn't been sure what to expect, but it
wasn't this.
"You're
a slut, aren't you Horton?" he sneered.
"Yes,
sir!" the boy responded, grinning up at him. "I love cocks, the bigger the
better!"
Instead
of telling Horton to resume, Mr Price immediately placed the pillows in the
middle of his bed, one on top of the other.
"Right!"
he ordered, pointing to the bed. "Now get on all-fours!"
Smirking,
Bradley did as he was asked. Viewing the lad's arse, Mr Price could see that he
was used to being fucked. Raising his right hand, he delivered a stinging smack
to the boy's buttocks.
"Oh
yeah!" Bradley gasped.
Scarcely
able to believe what had just happened, Mr Price administered a second blow,
then a third. Horton's reaction was much the same each time. It seemed that the
lad didn't just like cocks; he liked being spanked
too.
Mr
Price was angry and frustrated. He expected the boys he brought here to hate
what he did to them. He wanted them to be frightened of him, but with Horton,
it simply wasn't working. Taking out his tube of K-Y,
he roughly worked some into the boy's arse before lubing up his rampant prong.
"Now
lie down, legs apart, pillows under your cock and balls!"
As
his latest victim got into position, Mr Price picked up the lad's underpants.
Wanting to see what effect it would have, he'd decided
to gag the boy whether he was noisy or not. A moment later, he got down on top,
his glistening cock lined up on Horton's boy-hole. With a single well-practised
movement, he thrust it right in.
"Oh
yeah!" the boy repeated. "Go on sir! Fuck me hard!"
"Shut
up!" Mr Price snarled, stuffing Horton's underpants into the youngster's mouth.
Within
seconds, he was fucking the boy ferociously, giving it everything. There was no
hint of any protest. Mr Price was more frustrated than ever.
"What
a little slut!" he growled. "You love taking it up your bum, don't you?!"
Gagged
by his own underpants, Bradley was unable to respond verbally, but he definitely did like it. As one minute stretched into two, Mr
Price was still relentlessly pounding his arse. Suddenly, his whole body was wracked
by violent spasms, his feet flailing uncontrollably. With his prick swelling
and pulsing against the top pillow, his anal ring tightened sharply around the
deputy head's cock.
"You
bad boy!" Mr Price rasped. "Now I'm going to fill your slutty little bum!"
Holding
the tops of Horton's arms, he deposited several volleys of hot man-cream deep
inside the boy's arse.
After
a few seconds, he carefully withdrew. Although he'd
just had an excellent fuck, he was still angry and frustrated. The boys to whom
he'd given his `special treatment' had all hated it.
Not only was that his way of controlling them, it was also his ultimate
turn-on. But defying all logic, Horton hadn't just
enjoyed what he'd been subjected to; he'd positively embraced it.
Mr.
Price had heard stories about boys like that, and dismissed them as pure
fantasy. What he'd just learned required him to adjust
his thinking. Although such boys were very rare, they clearly existed, and
Horton was one of them! The question now was how he was going to get the boy
into line.
The
Hortons were an extended farming family based in a remote area of south-west
England. Mr Price speculated that this must be the sort of treatment that the
lad got at home. He'd clearly encountered it
somewhere, and the deputy head knew it wasn't at school.
Over
the years, Mr Price had thrived on boys hating what he did to them. Horton had
just turned that world upside-down.
0
o 0 o 0 o 0
At
the Purcell School, Matthew Wainwright was just settling in. For the first few
days, he was kept extremely busy, finding out which classes he'd
be in, what ensembles he'd be working with and so on. It was all very exciting.
Then,
at bedtime a few nights in, doubts and fears unexpectedly began to creep up on
him. He was sleeping in a small dorm with three other boys of the same age, two
of whom had been at the school since they were eleven. All committed musicians,
they'd got along famously.
As
he climbed into bed, the boy nearest the door put out the light. In the silent
darkness, Matthew began thinking about what he'd done
to win his place at the school. His mum and dad, who'd
supported him so wholeheartedly, would have been horrified. He couldn't escape the thought that by going along with what Mr
Johnstone had asked him to do, he'd let them down. He'd
let himself down too.
And
what about his new friends? What would they think if they knew that he'd allowed his headmaster to have full-on sex with him? He
felt sure they'd be disgusted. They probably wouldn't want to associate with him anymore. He'd be shunned; maybe even ridiculed.
But
it didn't stop there. The girls he'd
worked with over the previous two days had reinforced his belief that that was
where his primary attraction lay. He could hardly wait to get to know them
better.
On
the other hand, he'd also found himself drawn to some
of the older boys that he'd seen around the school. He felt certain that if Mr
Johnstone hadn't got him involved in gay sex, this
wouldn't have happened.
Back
when Mr Johnstone had first drawn him in, he'd told
himself that once he left Falconsmere, he'd simply
put it behind him. In the event, that was proving to be far more difficult than
he'd expected. Worse still, there was nobody he could
talk to. They wouldn't have understood, and it might
have resulted in his secret getting out, which was the last thing he wanted.
He
could see only one way forward. He'd have to throw
himself one hundred per cent into his music, and hope that in time the feelings
of guilt and confusion would go away.