Date: Tue, 05 Apr 2016 09:19:43 +0100 From: tom Subject: LabTech Chapter 40 The Lab Technician Authors note: Usual caveats and warning apply, read this at your own risk, no representation of any person, animal, vegetable or mineral intended although if you do find yourself somewhere in this story with any of the aforementioned just think yourself very, very lucky! As ever all comments, ideas, suggestions, good bad or indifferent always welcome. Tom email: amias09@fastmail.fm ####################################################################### Chapter 40 – Brotherly love Predictably tension between the brothers was a little high after Spunky had gone home, which entailed Alfie very wisely keeping out of Mark's way until he had calmed down. As promised Spunky had certainly succeeded in extracting retribution for the episode in the toilet with Geoff. And, Mark did at least acknowledge that Alfie had kept his promise not to divulge that he was wearing Geoff's clothes and had decided to let the matter rest. On the other hand, Alfie considered he still had a score to settle with Mark and that the events in the garden with Spunky were an merely an amusing interlude. Having concocted a somewhat fanciful plan which would revolve around Mark's underwear swop, Alfie thought the actual operation would be implemented probably around bedtime when Mark would be pre-occupied with Geoff's briefs and his switch to late night, secretive masturbation mode. The idea was based on the assumption that Mark's actions were predictable and that if he didn't do as expected that evening, then he would have to do so in the morning before leaving for school. Either way it meant Alfie had to be vigilant and ready to seize the moment as and when it occurred, which luckily for him was around eleven o'clock that night when Mark thought Alfie was fast asleep. Secretly observing Mark's movements, Alfie had noted that he had taken the unusual step of actually packing his school bag that night, prior to grabbing his striped pyjamas and leaving to go to the bathroom. That was the cue for Alfie, he hopped out of bed and headed for the bag guessing that Mark would be otherwise occupied in the bathroom. His guess was correct since Mark was persuading his overworked cock to make a further deposit in Geoff's briefs in the locked bathroom, leaving Alfie busy with the contents of the bag and to successfully complete his mission. He hadn't been back in bed for more than a couple of minutes before Mark returned dressed in his pyjamas, assuming Alfie was asleep he proceeded to drop the trousers and rearrange the slimy briefs beneath his pyjama trousers. Inevitably morning dawned, but not for Mark though. He woke much later after knocking the alarm clock to the floor which had been carefully set to allow for the absolute maximum length of time to remain in bed. Getting up in the morning had never been one of his stronger attributes and generally equated to bad temper and equally bad language. Just as inevitable as the morning dawn, it was also inevitable that Mark would lie there merely thinking of getting out of bed and more importantly how to hide his erection from Alfie just across the room. Bravely and it has to be said, quite oblivious to the overpowering smell of unwashed adolescent boy, sweat and congealed semen that escaped from under the bedclothes he began to slowly move the odd limb. The first task was to ascertain what had happened inside his pyjama trousers that felt so painful. There was no doubt his pubic hairs were stuck to everything and were being pulled out one by one, nor that the briefs had somehow become twisted and cut off the circulation to his balls. Neither did that include the painful sensation his cock had been rubbed raw, having been erect and humped throughout most the night as he slept through several Geoff style Aertex fantasies. Finally, he managed to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. Cursing on discovering the pyjama cord had sometime during the night disappeared up it's own hole, meant Mark had to concentrate on holding the trousers up which allowed the fly to gape wide open and reveal the stained horrors of the Aertex briefs beneath. Alfie who had as usual woken earlier and silently attended to matters beneath the sheets was already dressed and ready for breakfast. Carefully folding his pyjama trousers to conceal the morning discharge, he managed to watch Mark's very erotic, if decidedly disjointed performance from the corner of his eye. "Phew... you don't half smell!" remarked Alfie as Mark shambled past doing his best to contain his cock within the trousers and keep them pulled up. It was very tricky doing two things at once at that time of the morning. "You just shut yer fucking face. I don't!" "You've had a gert wank in 'em them trousers, it don't half smell like it!" "Just fuck off and mind yer own fucking business." "You only got fifteen minutes, before we gets a lift with Andy, so you'd better hurry up." Alfie grinned like the good boy he was and made sure he stood out of range. "And, watch out for mum, she'll be after you next! Don't let her smell you!" "Oh fuck off, I needs a shit!" replied Mark, his step immediately quickening on the mention of his mother. "Well you ain't got time for a wank and a shit!" crowed Alfie as he flew out of the bedroom at high speed only just avoiding Mark's foot. "I needs me breakfast!" "Fuck off and have it then!" "You alright?" Andy looked at Alfie who was waiting by the car. "Yeah, I'm.. uumm.. about uumm.. sorry.. y'know... yesterday.." he looked at the pavement, being caught with Mark wasn't what he had ever envisaged happening. "Forget it, I know I was a bit mad at the time `cause it was such a bloody stupid place to do it, but the thing is nobody saw anything, so no harms done. Right?" Andy unlocked the car door. "Honest?" "Yeah, honest." Andy smiled. "Now where's that brother of your's is he coming?" "Probably just has!" Alfie giggled. "Oh god, how disgusting!" Andy wondered what it would be like to be a fly on the wall in the shared bedroom, it probably wouldn't be disgusting at all! "He's on his way, he didn't wake up, still he never does!" Alfie decided to get in the back and save time for when Mark eventually arrived. "He was having another gert row with mum over his uniform when I left, then Soph came in and started on about them gert high heeled shoes again. Silly cow, `cause that's totally pissed mum off!" "Oh, nothing unusual then?" "Nah, I got out and left 'em to it!" Alfie looked out the rear window. "Yer he is now." "Good." he started the engine. Mark fell onto the front seat whilst managing to continue eating half a piece of toast, dripping with butter and the best part of half a pot of marmalade dumped on it, he threw his bag on the floor in front of him. It wasn't a pretty sight, uncombed hair, his shirt wrongly buttoned and hanging out of his old trousers, the school tie loosely round his neck, but nowhere near the shirt collar. "You look a bit of mess!" said Andy pulling out from the kerb. "And, wot's that smell, is it something to do with yer breakfast?" "I don't look a mess, wot gave you that idea?" replied Mark. "Wot smell, I can't smell nothing!" "Can you smell something Alfie?" Andy wrinkled his nose up, whatever it was it was pretty pungent. "You ain't walked in some dog shit on the pavement have you?" "No I fucking haven't!" snapped Mark, the pile of marmalade wobbling ominously. "`tis him innit?" Alfie sniffed and twisted the knife. "He smells." "You cheeky little sod!" At that point just as Andy turned the corner a cat ran in front the car forcing him to hit the brakes. "Bloody thing!" The remaining toast to slipped delicately from Mark's fingers to bounce down the front of his blazer and land on his trousers. Marmalade was everywhere and was to the culinary world the equivalent of what semen was to the world of school trousers, the more it was rubbed the worse the stain became. "Fucking... fucking.. bollocks!" cried Mark on seeing the toast disappearing between his legs leaving it's sticky trail behind it. "Me fucking blazers fucking ruined!" "Where is it now?" asked Andy glancing over, having it must be said some difficulty in not laughing out loud. "I'm fucking wearing it!" "No!" said Andy, now really struggling not to laugh. "Not yer fucking blazer you twatt, that bleeding gert piece of fucking toast!" "Oh! Fuck! It's on the fucking floor innit!" replied Mark looking down and moving his feet. "Oh fuck! I just put me foot on it, now it's stuck to me fucking shoe! Fuck it!" Alfie was giggling hysterically and even Andy was having keeping his eyes on the road. "I can't drive like this, I gotta stop till you gets sorted out." In attempting to pluck a blob of marmalade from the lapel of his blazer, Mark only succeeded in dropping it onto his none too clean white shirt to decorate it with sticky orange blobs. He looked down, orange peel was stuck to his trousers next to where the excess of butter had been absorbed, unfortunately in the area normally reserved for a prime semen stain. Things had gone from bad to worse and now catastrophic. "I'm all sticky!" he said plaintively looking up. "Wot am I gonna do?" "Change yer pants?" suggested Alfie rather unkindly before laughing. "Will you fucking shut up!" snapped Mark. "Just fucking shut up!" Alfie took the hint and remained quiet. Whilst it was all Mark's own fault that matters had gone so far the answer was of course in his own hands, something which neither Andy nor Alfie thought imprudent to point out at that time. Alfie was though also wondering if he had been wise in setting the booby trap for Mark if he was in such a fragile mood? However, it was too late to do anything about it and the best plan was to plead ignorance since there was nothing that could be done to avert what promised to be a very entertaining climax, just wait and see what happened. "There's a damp chamois in the glove box, I used it for me windscreen yesterday," said Andy quickly realising that Mark needed to be calmed down before he became too upset, "get it out and try wiping the stuff off with it, while I drives on to school." "Right." replied Mark somewhat unenthusiastically now faced with the task of spreading rather than removing the offending marmalade, particularly in the area so obviously reserved for semen stains! Over at the City grammar, the morning had passed as quietly as it could in any boys grammar school, the only issues raised being those encased in grey school trousers. However, as most teachers knew such a state of tranquillity could not last too long and the coming of the dinner break heralded trouble for some. Julian, for that was the name of the first year owner of the oversize blazer who had purloined the photographs of Adam and Martin in the playground, was about to find himself in heap big trouble. Having taken the offending pictures home without showing them to anybody, he locked himself in the bathroom and forced himself to endure two or possibly two and a half, successive dry climaxes as he examined them in minute detail. And, so he continued throughout the evening and early morning. Julian was indeed a randy little soul, even though he barely knew what he was doing other than rubbing his cock to produce a very pleasant tingly feeling. Such was his drive for sexual exploration that even the unsuspecting family cat had been subjected to feline masturbation, although Julian didn't realise it had been neutered! Now with graphic pictures of gushing cocks the all around the mechanics of the act were clear and the eternal mystery of masturbation almost making sense. That morning he had left for school with his cock painfully erect and virtually glowing red inside his shorts having planned to tell his friends of the amazing discovery and that they too could see the pictures during the dinner break. His original intention had been to show the pictures in the playground, but being totally over stimulated he couldn't resist examining the photographs once more in the toilet prior to rushing off to the dining hall when the dinner bell rang. He arrived at the table in a very excitable state quite unable to control his exuberance nor his right hand from being pushed down the front of his shorts once he sat down. Barely managing to get through the main course he couldn't wait any longer and decided to quietly pass the photographs around his friends at the table. Of course at that time, like Julian all the other first year boys were desperate to discover the secrets of sex and find an answer the interminable question of what masturbation and ejaculation were all about. Other than the well thumbed M section of the dictionary there were no real means of finding any information other than asking somebody and just how embarrassing would that be! So it was at the dinner table over the dishes of glutenous custard and lumpy apple crumble that the three pictures were eagerly snatched from hand to hand. Thus, having then generated considerable excitement and giggling, not to mention a mandatory erection amongst those around the table the next chapter should have been obvious. Sadly though it wasn't obvious, something confirmed when one of teachers on dinner duty came over to investigate what the fuss was about. "What's going on then lads?" Mr Thorne smiled as he approached the table, the six boys sat around it were all in his maths class and he knew them by name. "Nothing Sir." volunteered Robert looking a little flushed. "Seems to me Robert it's a lot of noise for nothing?" he replied. "It look as though it's something to do with what you're passing around?" He looked at their faces, five of the boys looked very, very guilty, whereas Julian looked a positively deathly white, he appeared to be trying to hide something under his hands. "It`s nothing Sir, just a bit of joke." managed John, unfortunately glancing at Julian who managed to look even whiter. A nervous reaction set in, shuffling his hands he only succeeded in accidentally dropping a picture to the floor. "Allow me." Having no real intention of pursing the matter at all, Mr Thorne smiled as he bent down to pick it up, expecting at worst to see a crude drawing of a giant phallus or smutty limerick. "Oh my god!" Harry's monster cock stared at him from the photograph. The boys cringed, unsure what would happen next. "I think I'd better have the rest of these, hand them over." he said slowly looking around the table, two hands were slowly raised each offering another photograph. "Where did you get them?" Each boy looked at the other hoping he would volunteer something. "Now look," said Mr Thorne, having noted from Julian's face that he was obviously deeply involved, "we can all troop along to the deputy head's room now or we can resolve this here, so who produced these pictures?" Again they all looked at each other, Julian looked scared to death. Others in the dining hall were now also taking an interest, the communal whispering had started. "Well?" Slowly and rather shakily Julian's hand became visible above the heads. "Good, come on then Julian I think we need to have little talk, lets go outside a minute." By the time they were outside the entire room was full of whispers, having seen the pictures being confiscated all were now conjuring up fantasies of what the contents could possibly be. At the County Grammar, Mark's morning had had it's ups and downs. In his case more up than down, particularly when sitting next to Geoff in the history class after the morning break. So up in fact that, the only viable option was to relieve the testicular pressure by masturbating under the desk, something he was readily joined in by Geoff. With the return underwear swop arranged for the dinner break, each could then wear the offending underpants for the last two lessons of the morning to extract the absolute maximum the revolting pleasures they offered. The bonus would be that on returning home knowing the school bag contained a pair of their own briefs freshly laden with the others spunk and thus able to provide hours of harmless sniffing and licking! Having rapidly shovelled their dinner down during the first meal sitting, the two had rushed off to the relative safety of the toilets by the disused classrooms where they locked themselves in a cubicle. The confined space offered ample opportunity for much groping, giggling, fumbling and stroking of each others twitching equipment as they stood there naked from the waist down before ceremoniously swopping the underpants back. Naturally, it was impossible in such a situation to escape without recourse to further masturbation, so despite only having ejaculated less than two hours before they managed with a great deal of effort to persuade their flagging organs to perform once more. Incapable of further activity, the wisest thing to do seemed to quit whilst they could still walk and that their cocks were not skinned past the point of no return. Now it was time to put on the clean underpants they had specifically brought into school, knowing that whatever was handed back would be completely unwearable. Geoff had brought yet another pair of the infamous Aertex briefs and proceeded to wobble around on one leg in the cubicle before eventually getting them on and handing the very soiled red ones back to Mark. Secreting them in his bag for more detailed inspection when he got home, he delved into his bag and produced his clean dark blue briefs, much as a conjurer would produce a rabbit out of a hat. Geoff looked on longingly on whilst recalling his Sunday school classes and the teachings of the eleventh commandment, "Thou shalt not covet yer mates pants nor want his willy up thine bum." Twanging the elastic against his stomach Mark patted the not overly significant bulge at the front and then wiggled around, he turned to Geoff. "I reckons me mum musta be using some new washing powder or something, these feels a all tight, oh and bleeding hell, they seems a bit itchy after them things of yours." "Lucky you, these things is so bloody loose you don't know you even got 'em on!" replied Geoff looking down too quickly and almost losing his glasses as the Aertex zoomed out of focus. "Oh fuck, it's the bell!" Mark looked up on hearing the lesson bell, hurriedly zipping up his fly, stuffing his shirt untidily into his trousers and grabbed his bag. "Oh fuck, I think I got some new bloody spunk stains on me fucking trousers... fuck, fuck! D'you reckon anybody will notice?" "Nah. Which them spunk stains or the marmalade!" Geoff started to laugh. One look at the front of their trousers by any self-respecting self-abusing schoolboy and it would be more than obvious what had been absorbed from only two lessons earlier. "Oh, fuck the stains, I can't do nothing can us?" Mark opened the door, "Come on, we don't wanna be late `cause it's that horrible Browne bloke for maths now innit?" "Oh shit, I ain't done the bloody homework Fuck!" Geoff frantically pushed most of his shirt in his trousers, unaware the tail of his Aertex vest was hanging out to dangle temptingly to vest fetishists from below the hem of his blazer at the rear. Possibly looking even more shambolic than Mark he rushed out the toilet and into the corridor. "Fucking hell!" exclaimed Mark stopping after a few yards, throwing his bag down and starting claw at his trousers. "I'm all fucking itchy, wotever's she washed me pants in?" "Fucked if I know," Geoff continued off down the corridor, "but I do knows we'll be fucked if were late, now fucking hurry up!" Mark's rate of travel rapidly slowed. Stopping every few paces to pull at his trousers and dispense yet more expletives concerning the quality of the laundry, the itching sensation was getting worse. And, worse. Totally flustered and dreading being late for the lesson with the most unpopular teacher in the school, the day was getting worse than worser, because it really was worse if not considerably worse than the worst that could be imagined. Every movement encouraged more of Alfie's super de-lux-strength retaliatory itching powder to be released from the underpants and distributed to adhere to the curdled semen that already covered Mark's more tender regions. The briefs hadn't been given just a light dusting, they had been well and truly impregnated, Alfie had used the entire contents of the tin, so much so that the effects would last for some hours. By the time Mark finally arrived at the classroom he was literally hopping from one leg to the other. Unable to stop scratching himself, the situation was not helped by the fact that some of the powder had found it's way under his foreskin! Much to his dismay, his comical arrival in the classroom brought hoots of laughter and several lewd comments suggesting he was actually masturbating as he walked into the classroom. However, the noise didn't last very long and immediately died away when the much feared Mr Browne, an unhappy, tall thin man arrived with a pile of exercise books under his arm. Now close to retirement, Ron Browne was one of the last of the older style teachers who believed firm discipline was the very key to learning. There was though, a gulf between a teacher using discipline and still attaining pupil respect and that of Mr Browne's positively Victorian authoritarian attitude. The lesson got off to a shaky start with all pupil confidence quickly being dashed when Mr Browne distributed the books having marked the classwork. More aptly the books were thrown at their respective owners with such encouraging comments as "Appalling!" "Don't you ever listen!" "Dreadful!" "Worst I've ever seen!" "Abysmal!" Buoyed by such praise the class remained silent, several boys were only too well aware they hadn't completed the last homework that had been set and dreading the time when they had to submit their empty homework books. Such was the power of Mr Browne's performance and distribution of the exercise books that it had actually made Mark forget about the terminal itching he was suffering. Sadly, the respite was not too last for very long before he was again wriggling around and scratching at himself. Even being seated towards the back of the class wasn't far enough away for Mark's actions not to be noticed and having to sit on the hard wooden chair did little to lessen the sensations. It was however, the itching powder that had managed to get under his foreskin that was provoking the most uncomfortable sensations, so much so that in desperation under cover of the desk he slipped a hand inside his trousers to attempt to alleviate matters. "Baker!" "Shit! He's after you!" whispered Geoff poking Mark in the ribs. "Oh fucking hell!" "Wot! No!" Mark gulped having not realised he was to be the luckless quarry. "Baker!" A withering gaze greeted Mark as he looked slowly up, unable to believe that the afternoon could get any worse than the worst it had been already. "If you're doing what I think you're doing, you'll be seeing the headmaster next!" Various muffled sniggers appeared to come from nowhere, Mr Browne's eyes swept look around the room instantly killing any further response. "But Sir..." stuttered Mark. "Stand up boy!" "Get yer fucking hand out!" hissed Geoff in panic. The combination of rubbery legs and itching powder made for a very wobbly move to the vertical, Mark though had at least managed to get his hand from his trousers. "What's wrong with you boy? Can't you stand still?" "I gotta itch, that won't stop!" mumbled Mark, shifting from one leg to the other, his middle leg in particular was desperately in need of attention. "Are you trying to be funny boy?" another withering look. "Come out here now." "No.. no Sir... honest." Mark hovered supported by the desk, the movement having now dislodged sufficient powder to fall further down into his trousers causing him to rub his legs together. "I said here, out by my desk." Very, very awkwardly Mark hobbled to front of the room. The class of which the majority were undoubtedly of the self-respecting, self-abusing schoolboy variety quite naturally all stared at his lumpy spunk and marmalade stained trousers, confirming they all basically had much the same interests if not the same tents beneath their desks. "I see you've brought your breakfast with you!" a finger pointed at the marmalade which streaked his blazer. "Sir?" he replied weakly, constantly shifting from one shaky leg to the other. "You really can't keep still can you?" "No, no.. Sir." Mark really had no idea what to say and was wondering if he had detected a change in the tone of the voice. Adding to his problems the powder which had fallen down his trouser legs was beginning to take effect leaving him quite unable to keep still. "I think," Mr Browne paused and looked at him, "I think, that trying to keep you in class would prove to be a constant disruption." "Oh.. uumm.." "I'm going to send you to the school nurse, maybe she can do something." "But... but.." he started to blurt without really thinking, "she'll want to look at.. at.." "Quite possibly," replied Mr Browne, "but, I dare say she's seen it all before!" By now sniggering and whispering had broken out, only to be silenced yet again by a further look from Mr Browne. "Well off you go Baker, if she wants to keep you there and you are not back by the end of the lesson I dare say somebody will take care of your stuff." Mark shuffled out the classroom quite unable to believe his luck, once outside in the corridor he savagely rubbed himself through his clothes before heading off in the direction of the toilets. He had absolutely no intention of visiting the nurse although he was becoming concerned that there might be something other than washing powder that had caused his predicament. "You alright, you looks a bit knackered!" Mark looked up from the dirty window to see Alfie about to sit beside him on the bus. "Hmm sorta. Where's yer mates today then?" "They musta got another bus I `spose." "Yeah." Mark shuffled around on the seat, if Alfie hadn't appeared he would have already put his hand down his trousers to assuage his itchy cock. "You got an itchy bum or something, you keeps moving." he asked innocently. "Why d'you wanna rub it?" Mark continued to fidget on the seat. "Yeah, if you wants," Alfie grinned and squeezed his shorts, "see, `cause I gotta itchy willy, so if you rubs that then I'll rub yer bum!" "Hhmm.." Mark sniffed, quite interested "oh, when we gets home then? But where?" "Yeah we could do, in the garage that's safe from Soph innit? I'll rub you down the back of yer pants and you can wank me up the leg of me shorts." "You could suck me willy as well, if you really want's." "No, I don't really wants, not less you've washed it first! So no, I ain't sucking that." Alfie looked in disgust. "Anyway you likes it all sticky and cheesy don't you?" "Might do." Mark grinned pushing a hand down his trousers. "It's gert itchy as well! ================================================ Chapter 41 to follow