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 now.

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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.