Date: Mon, 21 Feb 2022 16:24:19 +0000 (GMT)
From: blackscar01 <blackscar01@btinternet.com>
Subject: Operation Pied Piper - Part 113c

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*******

This Story and all the characters are 100% fiction.

Any references made to schools, castles, entertainers and aristocratic
titled personages are pure fiction. None of the story features about those
places or personages named are true. None of what you are about to read
actually happened.

*******

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Finally, thank you again to my editor, Jim.

                        *********************

Marcus came running into the room. Immediately, he poured three large
glasses of whisky and brought them over to us. Forts glanced up. He was
broken. With his voice barely a whisper, he said, "Thank you. Oh Marcus,
can you get Dima and Theodora ask them to come and see me?" With that he
began to sob, he looked up at Davy. "Oh God, what have I done? They were my
friends."

Davy kissed his cheek and wiped away a tear. "They still are. They know
you're not usually like this."

Forts stared at the carpet. "It was still unforgiveable of me." He turned
to me, "Mishcon, I am sorry for the way I spoke to you. Do you think the
paper's editors would tell you who gave them that story and the pictures?"

I stood. "I certainly know a few of the editors. Let me go and phone them,
see if they will help?"

                       **********************

Operation Pied Piper – Part 113c – Desperate to Return


Davy continues the story


I was pretty nervous myself when I heard the light tap on the door. Forts
was still sobbing. He was still in a terrible state, mumbling about how he
had accused friends without giving them a chance to explain. Now racked
with guilt and embarrassment, unable to explain or reconcile how a red mist
had engulfed him as he read the front of the papers. Then, when he saw how
upset I was, his mind moved beyond all ability to reason.

I felt Forts tense as the door clicked open. Squeezing his hand, I
whispered, "Forts, they will understand, you have been under so much
pressure. Everyone can see that." I held my breath, praying I was
correct. Slowly, I stood and faced the door. "Theodora, Dima, thank you for
coming."

They both stopped just inside the room, probably as worried as I was at
what sort of reception they would receive. I gave a weak smile, Forts
glanced round and then turned away sobbing once more. Theodora and Dima
exchanged glances and then, as one, dashed over to us. Both of them
dropping to their knees and hugging Forts.

Theodora spoke first, as Fort's body heaved, racked by his sobs. "Forts
darling, it's okay. Both of us are here. We love you. We would never hurt
you or Davy." She hugged him tighter, then glanced up at me, her face one
of concern. I noticed she also had tears running down her cheeks. Letting
go of Forts, she stood and wrapped her arms round me, hugging me
tightly. Dima moved closer to Forts, squeezing him in his arms. Dima too,
stifling a sob as he did.

Theodora squeezed me. "Oh Davy, it wasn't us, I promise."

If I had harboured any remaining doubts, they vanished at that
moment. Whoever had spoken to the papers and given them those pictures, it
wasn't Dima or Theodora. I was sure of that.

I hugged Theodora back. I needed a hug too. Marcus appeared and quietly
moved over three chairs, touching each of us on the shoulder as he
positioned them, smiling and nodding for us to sit. Forts was quieter now,
Theodora, Dima and I each reaching to hold his hands, our eyes not leaving
him. He looked up at us each in turn, shaking his head.

"I am so sorry. I don't deserve such good friends as you all." He took hold
of Theodora's hand tighter. "Theodora, please forgive me, I should never
have spoken to you like that, I am so sorry." Hearing this, another tear
rolled down her cheek, matched by another of his. They both stood and
hugged, quietly in each other's arms. Forts then turned to Dima, he took a
deep breath. Dima stood to face him, this time the only words I heard as
they hugged were "brother, I am so sorry." They hugged for ages, before
both pulled away, seemingly embarrassed at their show of affection.

As we all sat down again. Marcus reappeared, placed down a small table, and
then returned with a pot of tea and some biscuits. Again, he didn't speak,
he just placed them down, poured each of us a cup and then withdrew. We all
sat watching each other, Theodora spoke first, pulling her hankie from her
sleeve.

"Look at us all, sitting here crying, my eyes must be a proper state."

She gave a little laugh as she dabbed her eyes. That small gesture and her
gentle words lifted us all. Each of us chuckling, and with foolish looks on
our faces, all wiped our eyes. That was it. We all looked at each other and
began laughing. Another group hug followed. I breathed a sigh of relief as
I sat down once more.

*

For the next half hour, we sat trying to work out who could have gone to
the papers. Dima, finally trying to sum up our discussions, "Your Imperial
Highness..."

Forts glanced downwards, obviously still embarrassed, his voice barely
audible. "Dima, I know what I said, but you're my closest friend, please, I
am so sorry, call me Forts."

I watched as Dima glanced down too, he bit his lip and swallowed. Not
trusting his voice not to fail him, he gave a quick bow of his head, then
took a deep breath before continuing.

"I never left the reporter alone, and no one spoke to them when we had
finished. The chamberlain just showed him out. As for the photographs, only
Milner was left alone with them, it appears it must be him."

Theodora looked up, obviously something was troubling her. "But Mr Milner
brought the picture of Forts and me to my apartment. So the pictures were
left alone for a time. He asked if I wanted the copy too, as he made two
prints of each of the pictures. I said yes, but he didn't have it with
him. He had left it in the garden room, so I said not to worry, I would
pick it up afterwards. Then, when I bumped into him later in the corridor,
he apologised and said he must have been mistaken about there being two, as
he couldn't find the copy. I thought no more about it."

Forts glanced at me. "It must be him then, I would never have suspected
Milner."

I shook my head, "Forts no, I don't believe it, not Robert."

With us all deep in conversation, we didn't hear the door open. From behind
us we all heard a little cough, Forts stood. "Mishcon, come over and pull
up a chair. Please, were you able to find out anything?"

There was another knock on the door before he could speak. The chamberlain
came in and made a bow.

"Your Imperial Highness, the footmen have the box Mr Mishcon brought with
him, where would you like it placed?"

Forts turned to Mishcon. "Box? Sorry, I know nothing about this."

"Forts, it was the Grand Duke's. Forgive me, what with everything
happening, I hadn't gotten round to telling you."

Forts nodded. "No problem. Chamberlain, have them place it over there,
thank you."

His head bowed in acknowledgement, and he directed the struggling footmen
where to place down the obviously heavy chest. Forts turned back to
Mishcon. "Well? The pictures, would the editors tell you?"

Mishcon took a piece of folded paper from his pocket and handed it to
Forts. He opened it and stared at the writing. Looking confused. "I don't
know who this is."

Forts handed the paper to Dima, who swallowed and looked back at Forts,
shaking his head.

"Your Imperial Highness, yes you do!"

Forts looked surprised. "I don't think so. Do you?"

There was a heavy clump as the footmen put down the chest, followed by a
polite cough from the chamberlain. Forts looked round.

"Your Imperial Highness, will there be anything else?"

"No chamberlain, thank..."

Forts didn't have time to finish. Dima stood and strode towards the
man. "Chamberlain, could you please explain why your name is on this piece
of paper?"

The chamberlain stood open-mouthed, we all did! Dima grabbed him by the
arm. Snatching away his staff of office and passing it to one of the
footmen. His voice quivering with emotion, Dima turned to Forts.

"Your Imperial Highness, I am ashamed to say we have found the traitor, the
person who contacted the papers. Forgive me for my blindness. Please allow
me to deal with him now!"

Forts looked staggered. Glancing at me and then briskly walking over. He
stood looking the chamberlain in the eye, muttering one word. "Why?"

Realising he had been caught, the chamberlain had nothing to lose. He
hissed the words at Forts. "You and him, you disgust me!" He glared as he
pointed at me. "You are no Prince of mother Russia!" As he finished his
tirade, he spat in Fort's face. Forts stood there, his eyes showing no
emotion as the phlegm dribbled down his cheek and hung from his chin.

The back of Dima's hand caught the chamberlain by surprise, he staggered
backwards falling to his knees with its force. Dima began screaming at him
in Russian as the two footmen grabbed him, dragging him out of the room.

Forts, watched as he was dragged away. His voice was calm. "Goodbye
chamberlain, thank you for your service." He shook his head and turned back
to us. Theodora beat me to him, her hankie wiping away the spittle. Both of
us taking an arm and walking with him back to the chairs.

Forts forced a smile as he sat down. He gave a little chuckle and shook his
head. "Thank you Mishcon. Well, what do you have for me next?"


**


Count Ouranoff continues the story


We all got the very next London train down. I hoped we weren't too
late. Today's 'Daily Worker' paper had yet another article about the
'Imperialist Lackey', even going as far to say he lived in a palace in
Sussex while the workers struggled. The last line read, 'End this
injustice, rid the world of the fat parasites.'

Athol looked ill as he read it, his face white. Shaking his head, he stared
out the window of the train. "How are they even allowed to publish this
bile? This isn't eighteenth century France? This is England!"

I am not sure I helped, pointing out again that 'The Daily Worker' was
Stalin's mouth-piece in the United Kingdom.

Archie put his hand on Athol's knee. "Athol, the Government won't crack
down on this sort of thing while we are allies and needing Russian help
fighting Germany."

Athol sighed, his stare distant. His thoughts were willing the train to go
to London faster. Another sigh. "Mishcon didn't get back to me before we
left. I never had a chance to warn him or Forts what you said, Count
Ouranoff. I bet it hasn't even dawned on them, the danger they are in."

Athol turned to face the window, his hands surreptitiously trying to wipe
away the tears rolling down his cheeks before anyone noticed. We all did,
but weren't about to say anything, we all felt the same way.

"Tickets please, Tickets please!"

Athol exhaled, regaining control of his emotions. "Inspector, can you tell
me, are we still on time?"

"Yes my Lord, we will arrive in thirty minutes."

Athol nodded. "Thank you."

"Will there be anything else, my Lord?"

Athol shook his head as he glanced at his watch, praying for the hands to
move quicker.

*

The Train Inspector was correct, our train came to a halt at Kings Cross
exactly to the minute he had said. With our luggage loaded on to a small
cart, the rest of us set off following Athol and Archie, who were already
at the ticket barrier.

I caught up with them just as they spotted Prince Dima. He hurried over all
smiles.

"Athol, Archie, good to see you. How was the journey? The cars are just
outside."

Athol was nodding, but his eyes were scanning the rest of the concourse. He
didn't answer Dima's question.

"Where are Forts and Davy?... Where are they? Are they safe?"

Dima immediately sensed something was very wrong by the tone of Athol's
voice.

"They are waiting for you back at Dryford Manor, my lord. What's wrong?
What's happened?"

Dima looked almost panicked as he turned to me, watching Athol and Archie
hurrying towards the exit and the waiting cars. "Ouranoff, what is it?
What's happened?"

I handed him 'The Daily Worker'. Dima scanned the front page.

I pointed to the last sentence. "You know whose words these are, don't
you?"

Dima went deathly pale, mumbling. "Oh God, how did I miss it? Oh God no."

Dima grabbed my arm. He broke into a run, shouting back to Gary and McPhee,
"Follow on, bring the luggage! We must get back!"

With the doors barely closed on the car, Dima was shouting at the driver in
Russian. The car lurched forward into the traffic at speed. Once we were on
our way Dima turned back to Athol, Archie and myself.

"My Lord, I have failed you and Prince Drageon. I never connected the
dots."

I leant forward and tried to comfort an obviously distressed Dima.

"No one did. It was only because, when I came to England, the same paper
highlighted my presence in the country."

Athol interrupted. "Count Ouranoff, you never said."

"No, what was the point? I managed to hide away with you all in
Scotland. Hopefully, we won't all be photographed together down here. They
have people watching out for members of the Royal family surfacing from
hiding."

Athol shook his head, muttering, "I did not know." Before glancing at his
watch again and turning back to lookout of the window.

There was a high-pitched whistle, then the driver spoke to us. "Sir, the
other car appears to be behind us now, we should arrive together."

We found out later why, once we had arrived at the Manor. Gary had
physically thrown the driver into the back with McPhee and taken over the
driving. The two cars roared through the entrance and along the drive.

Suddenly, Athol made a noise like an injured animal. All eyes turned to
look at the manor. There were four Police cars, seemingly abandoned by the
entrance, their doors wide open. He put his head in his hands. "Oh God,
no!"


**


Mr Evans continues the story the next day.


I reached to turn off the alarm clock. Once more I was in charge at the
Castle. I had dropped Athol, Archie, Count Ouranoff, McPhee, and Gary at
the station yesterday. Thankfully, they had arrived safe and well. I
stretched, "Oh well, time to get up, do my rounds before everyone else woke
and see what those boys had been up to during the night."

I quickly slipped on some clothes and headed along from the on-duty staff
bedroom to the dormitories. Starting with the third years, I quietly opened
the door, slipping in and gently closing it behind me. I breathed deeply,
my nose immediately assailed with the unmistakable smell of sleeping
teenagers. Mmmm, and what was that? I smiled to myself. That, unless I was
very mistaken, that was the bleachy smell of fresh cum. I stood listening
in the dark, wondering if any of them were having a sly wank. Alas, it
appeared not. Oh well, there was always tomorrow morning. I glanced at my
watch, the luminous hands revealing the time as they glowed an eerie
green. I watched the final seconds tick away before seven o'clock and then
reached for the light switch.

The room was flooded with light and moans and groans.

"Come on boys, everyone up, stand by your beds!"

There was a general hubbub in the room as the teenagers clambered out of
bed. They moved slowly before standing, scratching and stretching by their
beds. I had managed to talk Athol into believing how healthy it would be
for the boys to sleep naked, to my amazement, he had agreed. Out had gone
the pyjamas and now, before me, stood twenty naked boys in various states
of morning wood.

"Hands by your sides boys. There is no need to be embarrassed. It happens
to us all."

I began my inspection. "Hands by your side Fitzgordon, you have nothing to
be ashamed of there."

He smiled. "No, Mr Evans sir."

Fitzgordon was turning into a strapping young man, on the cusp of turning
sixteen, he was a member of the rugby team and had obviously been working
on his muscles. His rock-hard, seven-inch uncut cock stood proudly tight
against his stomach, the bellend fully exposed sat like a beautiful ripe
Victoria plum at the end of his shaft. It looked good enough to eat. Mmmmm.

"Fitzgordon, you had better follow me, I need your help with a few
things. No point in letting those muscles waste away while Gary and McPhee
are away."

"No sir! Shall I get dressed first sir?"

I turned to leave. "No, no, stay as you are. You can get dressed later,
just follow me for now, I have to wake the first years."

"Yes sir."

I smiled to myself. The new first years were going to love me! And probably
a bit more, Fitzgordon. I gripped his swaying shaft, giving it a few pumps
as we left the dormitory. I winked, "We don't want the first years to be
disappointed and not see you at your best."

"No sir."

He gave it a couple of sly strokes himself as I opened the First Year's
dormitory door. A quick flick of the switch and the room was flooded with
light.

"Come on boys, time to get up. Everyone up, stand by your beds."

Sleepy little faces appeared over their sheets, little hands rubbing away
the sleeping grit from their eyes. Then silence as they each spotted
Fitzgordon standing proudly next to me. There was a bit of hesitation
getting out of bed, boys obviously worried about the possibility of
comparison.

"Come on, out of bed now! Hands by yours sides. I want to see everyone
standing proudly like Fitzgordon here and to attention."

He gave a little chuckle next to me. He knew exactly what I meant. Twenty
sets of eyes were now focused on Fitzgordon's hard cock. The boys had
drifted over and were now lined up in front of us. Nudging each other,
hoping I didn't notice. I winked at Fitzgordon. "Looks like you're sagging
a bit there!"

His hand wrapped round his shaft and gave it a couple of wanks to
astonished gasps from the first years.

I turned back to the boys. "Who wants to touch it?" Several hands went
up. "Okay, form a line in front of him."

After a bit of elbowing, the line settled down, the ones at the back
peering round the sides. Little distressed penguins, trying to see what was
happening at the front. The first boy put up his hand.

"Sir, can we play, sorry touch his balls too sir?"

"Wilburs, isn't it?"

The boy nodded. "Yes sir."

"I don't think Fitzgordon will mind if you have a feel of his balls,
too. Will you?" I didn't wait for an answer, I knew it already.

Wilburs smiled, closely followed by Fitzgordon.

"Come on then, we don't have all day and everyone else wants a feel too."

Fitzgordon let out a little moan as the small fingers attempted to wrap
round his shaft. Wilburs grinned back at his friends, sniggering, as they
all tried to egg him on gesturing with their hands what he should do.

Outside in the corridor, I could hear the sounds of the school coming to
life. I pointed at the next boy. "Come and join Wilburs, we will have to do
two at a time. Don't worry you won't miss out, I think there is enough for
you both to get hold of."

As Wilburs groped the third year's large balls, his friend began a rapid
wanking of the shaft. The foreskin flashing back and forth over the swollen
purple plum, eliciting more pleasurable groans from Fitzgordon. By the time
the fifth set of boys had groped his balls and wanked his cock, his bellend
had a big droplet of precum glistening on its cock lips.

"Mr Evans, sir, what's that?" Several sets of eyes strained to see what the
boy was pointing at.

Smiling, I scooped it up, playing with its elasticity between my thumb and
forefinger. "This, young man is what we call precum. Grown up cocks make it
as a lubrication." I licked my finger, groaning to myself as it fired off
my taste sensors.

"Err, yuck. Sir, you ate it."

I nodded, licking my lips. "I did. It's lovely, give that fat cock a tight
squeeze and it will produce some more, then you can try it.". As the boy's
hand took a firm grip of Fitzgordon's cock, I nodded, encouraging him to
keep going. Alas, the grip was a bit tight. Poor Fitzgordon winced, "Hey
not too tight, easy, just gently, squeeze up from the bottom to the head."

The boy nodded, his eyes intently watching what he was doing. "Wow, look!"

Fitzgordon's cock had produced another glistening jewel.

"Go on try it, it tastes lovely."

Now I had meant for the boy to use his finger like I had, but was amazed to
see him lean forward and lick his tongue across that gorgeous plum. He
closed his mouth and seemed to be running his tongue round his mouth. He
broke into a big smile. "Mmmm, it does taste nice, sir."

Several hands went up. "I want to try," "I want to try," "and me!".

"Okay, form up again, those of you who didn't get to play with his cock and
balls can do so tomorrow. Everyone can have a lick and taste now. Then we
must get on."

When the last one had finished, Fitzgordon's face was a picture of
bliss. Then hesitation. "Is that the last one, Mr Evans?"

I nodded, he gently touched my arm.

"Sir, I haven't cum yet and my balls are aching, sir."

I gave him a wink. "I know that. That is why you're going to head straight
to my night room and wait for me."

"Yes sir."

Fitzgordon smiled and left.

"Come on boys, everyone down for showers, then quickly dress and make sure
you're on time for breakfast, or there will be no fun tomorrow morning."

After opening the door, I joined the throng in the corridor. I was heading
straight back to my room.

*

With the door to my room closed. I flicked on the light. Fitzgordon was
lying naked on the bed, he pulled back the covers as I stripped off.

"On your knees, boy."

He giggled, quickly getting onto all fours. "Yes sir, have I been naughty,
sir?"

"You're about to find out!"

His pert bum was now facing me, his legs parted, his heavy balls swinging
in their sack, his now flaccid purple cockhead, the foreskin still pulled
back, hanging just visible below his amazing balls. Fuck, from this angle
this boy had donkey bollocks, I was going to enjoy them. I crawled onto the
bed behind him. "You have an amazing arse and fucking enormous balls."

I gave them a slap as I moved closer and sniffed at his arse crack, my
senses flooded with 'Just woken, teenage boy.' I kissed each cheek, well
more of a lick, really. Then shuffling myself closer behind him, I placed
my hands on his arse cheeks, easing them apart, allowing my nose to slide
deeper between them. My mouth watered, my lips puckered as I moved closer
to kiss his beautiful crinkled hole. My tongue, not wanting to be left out,
slipped between my lips, the tip delicately tracing over the uneven
surface. Slowly circling closer to his bulls eye. He moaned and his head
dropped to the bed, his hands assisting me, reaching back and pulling his
cheeks further apart. As I began to work his arse with my tongue, his hole
began slowly reacting to my probing, allowing my tongue tip just inside
him. I sat back, my face wet with a mixture of my saliva and his arse
juice. I loved the smell of it. He glanced back, I grinned at him, "Don't
worry, I haven't finished." I licked down his taint towards his balls. The
skin of his scrotum giving up its night sweat and musk to my lapping
tongue. I cupped his balls in my palm, kissing each of them, they were
amazing, the size of hens' eggs. My mind demanding, I weigh them, I lifted
them in my palm. These balls must be loaded with cum. I would enjoy that
very soon.

Sucking one into my mouth, my tongue rolling and licking it, his skin
stretched in my mouth. I reached for the second orb, finally managing to
get it into my mouth too. He winced and groaned, I heard him gasping,
"Gently Sir."

Moments later they popped out from my lips like champagne corks as I pulled
tenderly away from him. I licked his sac again, it was still giving up
musk, I still wanted more, closing my eyes, lapping them again. His balls
slapped against my chin, then again. Reaching between his legs, I found the
reason, the little bugger had his hand round his hard cock wanking. I
slapped his hand away. "No you don't, hands behind your back!"

Clutching his fingers behind him, I reached for the cord of my dressing
gown, pulling it free from the material loops. I bound his hands behind
him, reaching under him for his hard shaft, I started milking him
slowly. Precum dripped from his cockhead as he moaned, his hips trying to
help his cock fuck my rising and falling fist.

'Bing Bong'. "Would Mr Evans please make his way to the dining hall
immediately. Mr Evans to the dining hall."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. There was no way I was going straight away. I
pushed Fitzgordon on his hips, he rolled over on to his side, his hands
still firmly tied behind his back. He looked a bit startled, wondering what
I was going to do. He didn't have to wait long. I pushed his legs apart,
exposing his hard cock. My mouth engulfed the purple swollen head, my
tongue working round the ridge, toying with his bow string, while my hand
continued to milk his hot shaft.

As he thrust into my mouth, I knew he wouldn't be long. What's that saying?
'Good things come to those who wait?' Well, I couldn't. I wanked him
harder, he squirmed, his hips bucking, his balls pulled taut to his shaft
and his cum pumped into my mouth. His head thrashing from side to side as
his cock exploded. I held his cum on my tongue, revelling in its taste.
Hang on, no, this wasn't just cum, this was ambrosia, food of the Gods.

I untied his hands, he lay looking up at me, rubbing his wrists.

"Okay Fitzgordon, I will need you at the same time tomorrow to finish off
with the second years. In fact, sleep in here tonight, I don't want you
forgetting."

He smiled. "Yes sir."

                        **********************

Folks, I really hope you're enjoying the story. There is nothing more
rewarding than hearing your feedback with observations and suggestions.
Please email me to let me know. Blackscar.

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'Operation Pied Piper'              – Gay/Adult Youth
'Scream if you want to go faster'   - Bisexual/Adult Youth
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'The Extraordinary Christmas Party' – Bisexual/Incest
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