Give the gift of Nifty and donate, they need donations to keep providing us all with this free website.
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Thanks guys for all the great feedback and comments. I'm loving all your comments and ideas for future installments. Keep them coming.

Please note that this story is fiction and takes place in the imagination of the writer, nothing that is written ever happened. My fictional characters may or may not practice safe sex, however these are merely words and I would always advocate the practice of safe sex in the real world. Some of my fictional characters' actions may not also be legal in all places in the world, and my fictional stories are not meant encourage any reader to break any of their local laws. Anything can happen in our imaginations but in the real world we are bound by restrictions. Play safe.

Cockaigne Chronicles is a new series set in the fictional town of Cockaigne where the laws are different, and anything can happen. Social nudity and sexual interaction are nothing to be ashamed of and the moral limitations that inhibit us don’t inhibit the residents of Cockaigne.

Now, fire up your imaginations and let the fun begin...

Adam's First Day at His New School
by David Heulfryn

I really wanted to toss one out in the shower this morning, but it was my first day of school, and I was getting paranoid that I might be late.

I had spent a good part of the evening reading the school rules and had fallen asleep before I reached the end. I think I’d got through most of the rules and the last section dealt with the sliding scale of punishments.

“Hurry up, Adam!” Mum yelled up the stairs.

My cock was hard and wanted me to stroke it, but I just didn’t have the time.

I finished rinsing the soap from my body and then stepped out of the shower. While I was drying myself off, Mark came in and noticed my stonking hard-on.

“Pity you didn’t have time to sort that out, Adam. Perhaps find a quiet moment when you get to school.”

“I’m not going to make the first thing I do at school is masturbate, that’s gross.” I slipped my towel behind me and started to dry my back. My cock swayed, enticingly, in front of me.

“It’s not gross, it’s natural. We all wank. In fact, I might even have one in the shower, now that I’m sure I’m not going to be stepping in some of your spunk.

“Now, that is gross,” I told him and left the bathroom.

I kept checking the time as I dressed, I really had plenty of time, but I was nervous. I still didn’t know anyone around here, and I didn’t want to go through school life without any friends. No matter how many times Mum told me it would be alright and I would make friends, there was always this nagging doubt in the back of my mind that I wouldn’t. I would be the new kid that no-one wanted to join their clique.

Before I went downstairs, I checked my self in the mirror. I must admit that I did look smart in my black trousers, white shirt, maroon blazer and tie. I even remembered to wear the white briefs that Jack, from the outfitter's shop, recommended I wear to fit in with the others and make Coach happy.

My mum gave me a broad smile when she saw me, and I think there was even a tear in her eye.

“You look so grown up, Adam. So smart.” She came over and hugged me, but I soon pulled away.

“Stop it, Mum. I don’t want you to crease my uniform.”

She smiled and just pecked me on the cheek, “You’re so sweet.”

I went over to get myself a bowl of cereal.

“Where’s Mark?” she asked. “He needs to be setting off to work soon.”

“He’s in the shower having a wank,” I told her.

“I hope not.” She smiled, “I want him to save himself for tonight.”

“Muum!” I groaned and poured milk on my cornflakes.

Breakfast was gulped down, almost without breathing, and I grabbed my bag to leave.

“Bye, Mum.” See you later.

“Bye, Sweetie.” She called after me.

At the foot of our stairs, I shouted up to Mark. “Bye, Mark. I’m off to school now. Hope you’re enjoying your wank!”

I can’t be sure but it sounded like he shouted ‘fuck off’ back at me. I smiled at myself and slammed the door (like every kid does) when I left.

I got even more nervous now. I was out of the house and walking to school. I could see a few flecks of maroon ahead of me on the pavement, they looked alone like me. When I turned off our street and headed along a more main road, I saw groups of maroon blazers.

At least I was going the right way, I kidded myself. I knew how to get to school, mum had made me do a dummy run on Saturday. It took me forty to minutes to get their and back.

I wasn’t walking particularly fast, so a few kids overtook me on the pavement, they never said anything as they didn’t know me, so I entered the school gates alone.

Just inside were what looked like a group of prefects.

“Good morning.” One boy greeted me and passed me a slip of paper. “This will tell you where to go and by what time. Please don’t be late, the headmaster insists on punctuality.” He grinned at me like he knew something I didn’t.

I took the piece of paper and carried on walking.

I was fifteen minutes early, but there was still a large group of kids hanging around. I spotted one boy who was standing alone reading the same slip of paper I had been given.

I approached him tentatively.

“Hi, there.” I croaked.

The boy looked up from the slip of paper.

“Are you new here too?” I tried to break the ice.

“Uh, huh.” He responded.

“I’m new, and I am as nervous as you look.” That made him smile. “I’m Adam. I should be starting year nine. What about you?”

“Scott, I’m also starting year nine.”

We talked a little, it was very stilted; we were both still nervous around each other. It turned out that both our dad’s, (sorry, his dad and my stepdad) worked at the biochemical lab. He wasn’t sure what his dad did, but then again, I had no idea what Mark did either.

Five minutes to go, I suggested to Scott that we make our way to the school hall, as dictated on the slip of paper.

There were kids there already, and we took a seat together. We carefully decided where to sit. At the front would make us seem too eager and like class swots. The back would make us look like the slacker kids not interested in school; so we decided the middle.

With sixty seconds to go, there was a rush of kids coming in and grabbing a seat.

In front of the chairs was a stage, obviously for school plays, concerts and prize givings. This morning the curtains were closed and dead on time they opened. Behind the curtains was a large sign, it read, “Silence, Please.”

Scott and I stopped talking, so did most kids around us, but some kids at the back kept talking.

On the stage walked the headmaster, Mr price. He looked smarter than when he came to visit, he was dressed in a suit and tie, and his shirt looked very crisp.

In his normal speaking voice, he spoke to the room. “In this school, we not only obey when a teacher asks you to do something, but you also read the signs and obey them. If it says ‘Do not walk on the grass’, you do not walk on the grass. If a sign says ‘silence, please’ then I expect you to be quiet.”

I got very nervous, he didn’t sound too happy, but at least the kids at the back had shut up.

“During the course of the day,” Mr Price continued, “I will be reviewing the CCTV and the time stamp when the sign appeared. Anyone found not to have obeyed will be asked to my office at some point tomorrow.”

Shit, I thought. Did Scott and I shut up immediately, I thought we did, but perhaps he carried on for a few seconds before the sign registered. This was going to be killing me all day, and all night.

Mr Price gave us quite a boring introduction to the school, and as he did, and mentioned the curriculum, the teacher responsible came on stage to say a few words.

At the end, we were split into groups. Year nine, my group were to go with Coach Peters, he was to be our form tutor, he also had all our timetables and PE was to be our first lesson of the day.

All the Year nine kids followed Coach and told us all to grab a seat in the changing room. “Boys and girls!” he shouted.

I had no idea what was going on, but he wanted all of us, boys and girls in the same changing room. I supposed it was because he had something to say to us all.

He grabbed a pile of papers and started calling out our names, in turn, we got up to get our timetable, on the paper was also the web address of the school portal and our personal login details.

“Do not!” Coach emphasised, “give these details to anybody else, they are personal and contain personal details. I don’t have to remind you that disclosure will be punishable.”

I folded the paper so no one could peak over and glance at my timetable and login details.

“I hope you have all brought your gym kit!” He shouted about the chatter.

There was a chorus of agreement, but I did notice one young boy blushed and try to hide.

“Right you lot, all of you strip down, go through those doors, “he pointed to some double doors at the end of the changing room, “and line up against the back wall.”

I heard a murmur around me and then one brave boy spoke up. “Don’t the girls need to go into their changing room?”

Coach laughed; it was a booming laugh that echoed around the room. “Not here they don’t, everything is communal wherever possible, girls and boys will change and shower together.”

“But Sir!” Some of the boys cried out, and the girls seemed to let out a squeal.

“Ok!” Coach yelled at us. “That’s enough, this is happening whether you like it or not. If you do not obey all my instructions, then you will be put into punishment. No ifs, no buts. Your parents will also be informed and will be encouraged to discipline you further.”

Coach scared everybody quiet.

“This is everyone last warning, I have been more than lenient up till now. From this moment on, any dissension will be met with punishment.” He looked around the room, making contact with each one of us, “Do you understand?”

We all mumbled, indicating we understood.

“Now, Adam!” He singled me out for some reason. “What did I tell you all to do?”

“Strip naked and go through those doors, Sir.” I choked. “I mean Coach.”

“And what else?”

I thought for a moment, “Line up against the wall?” I queried.

“Almost. Line up against the back wall.”

“Yes, Coach,” I said.

“Now move it!” He yelled. “You have two minutes, and I’m counting.” He looked at his watch and turned to go into his office.

There was a mad scramble as Coach had put the fear of god into us. I stripped as fast as I could and was one of the first boys through the door.

Coach emerged from his office and entered the gym. “Five... Four.” He counted down.

There were still a few running towards me when he yelled “Zero!”

The young boy crashed into me, and I pushed me aside as he hit the back wall.

“Good, I’ll give you that one but those that only just made it I will be keeping my eye on.”

Coach surveyed the group of naked fourteen and fifteen-year-old boys and girls along the back wall of the gym.

“You look like a good bunch; I’ve got something to work with.”

I peered along the line of naked bodies.

“First task!” Coach shouted, “Split yourself into two groups, girls and boys.”

That was easy. We quickly moved until the was a line of girls and a line of boys.

“Good, Now girls along the front wall. Coach Johnson will look after you. This is the first and last time you will be seperated.”

Within seconds the girls seemed to have disappeared, following a tall young man who I supposed was Coach Johnson.

I was now just part of a line of boys. I kept looking at Coach, not daring to check out the others.

“Guys, your next task is to put yourself in age order.”

We broke the line and split into small groups, each group discussed their ages, but this got us nowhere.

After a few minutes, the Coach bellowed at us. “Back against the wall!” We did as we were told. “You were getting nowhere. Question! What stopped you completing the task?”

We pondered the question, but no one dared suggest a reason.

“Sir?” A young boy put his hand up. I looked over, and it was Scott, the boy I was talking to this morning. We had got separated when we all scrambled into the changing room.

“Call me, Coach, Scott.”

“Coach. There was no-one coordinating.” He said meekly.

“Exactly. Not the word I would have chosen, but you’re right. There was no one coordinating or ‘leading’. Without any one person in charge, coordinating,” Coach nodded over at Scott, “you had no chance of completing the task.”

Coach then designated Scott as the leader and gave us the same task. With Scott separating us into two groups. One age fourteen, one aged fifteen, he appointed a leader of each group to sort the group according to birth month. Within a few minutes, we had completed the task.

Coach had us reel off our birthdays and clapped when Scott had got us in spot on order.

I looked over at Scott and smiled.

“Now guys, go and get your jockstraps on and get back here.”

I think all us boys were glad we could go and get something on to cover our little cocks. Most boys came back in their jocks, but three boys were still naked. They joined us at the back of the gym, looking embarrassed.

“You three!” Coach pointed at the boys. “Where are your jockstraps?”

All three looked at the floor.

“Will you answer me!” I’m not sure if Coach could speak without bellowing.

“I forgot mine, Coach. I didn’t think we would have PE on the first day.” One boy said.

“Me too, Coach.” The other two boys said in unison.

Coach made them run around the gym, naked until he told them to stop. Coach let us watch as they ran one circuit. I couldn’t help but look at the biggest boy and his cock flopping from side to side as he ran. He had a healthy black bush, and the more his cock slapped against his thighs, the longer it seemed to get. It stayed floppy which I’m betting the boy was thankful for.

The boys kept running, and the Coach would shout at them if he thought they had eased off the pace too much. “Faster!” Coach would bellow at them.

Coach now had nine boys standing in front of him all wearing white jockstraps, they all looked brand new, the whiteness of the pouch and straps dazzling. Give them a few months, and they will turn to a dreary grey from constant washing and absorbing sweat, and probably other bodily fluids.

Coach singled me out again and told me to join him in front of the boys.

“That looks good, Adam.” He said and cupped my bulge and twanged my straps. “Yes, very good.”

Coach turned to address the other boys. “Now Adam here took my advice and got a quality sports jockstrap. I can see a few fashion jocks on you boys.” He looked at Scott and told him to join him and me.

Scott was wearing a fashion jockstrap that provided no support. He told Scott to feel my bulge and how I was kept supported and compare it to his bulge and how his junk would wobble around freely.

Each boy was then invited to come up and feel our bulges; feel the difference in them, how they caressed our junk, and how they supported it.

Scott and I couldn’t help it, but all this touching was making us hard, Coach noticed and was pleased. We could all then see Scott’s cock tenting his pouch while my cock looked well contained.

Everyone looking and fondling Scott’s junk made him leak, and a wet patch emerged, the boys seemed less interested in my bulge as it was far less obvious so, thankfully, my cock didn’t leak.

Boys were taking it in turns to check out Scott’s bulge, after their first squeeze, they would go to the back of the queue for another turn. Any pretence on fondling was now lost, and the boys were stroking Scott’s hard cock through the fabric.

Scott was moaning as each set of hands brought him closer to orgasm. Muggins here just stood next to him watching, I never seemed to have a touch.

Somehow Scott’s jock got lower and lower as each boy stroked him. When the base of Scott’s cock was showing the next boy pulled it out.

For the first time, I saw Scott’s mousy brown pubes and six-inch uncut thin cock, it looked damp, and the boys never let up on wanking him.

I felt my cock throb when I saw his cock, but I kept my arms by my side, reluctant to start wanking myself off while the others were wanking Scott. I wanted to join them, but Coach didn’t say I could, so I stayed put.

Coach kept watching as the boys pleasured Scott. The bulge in his tight white shorts didn’t seem to get any bigger, and I was betting he wore a very sturdy jock under them.

“He’s got to cum soon.” I heard one boy say.

“Bet it’s me. Bet I make him cum in my hand.” Another boy said.

Each boy was now eager for it to be them to make Scott cum, they gave him a few extra wanks, more than they did previously, before letting the next boy in line have a go.

Coach figured what was going on and shouted “Three strokes each! Anyone found having more will be punished.”

“Oh, fuck.” I heard Scott gasp.

Each boy now sped up their stroking.

“Shit.”

The next boy gripped Scott hard and pumped hard.

Scott threw his head back, and I watched as he came. His spunk shot from his cock and spayed the winning boy.

“Well done!” Coach approached the winning boy grabbed his hand, which was smeared with Scott’s cum, and held it above his head.

Coach called for the three naked boys that were still running around the gym to stop and come over.

“Robert,” Coach addressed the winner, “these three are now yours to command until the end of the week.”

Scott now knew the name of the boy that had made him cum. The three naked boys were Sebastian, Oliver and Jason.

As first days of school go, this one was very interesting. If this was the way our PE lessons would go, I would enjoy sports even more.

Thank you for reading. I would love to read your comments and suggestions so please email me at stories@screeve.org

I have created this universe but am open for other writers to contribute their own stories and characters. All I ask is that you send me a copy of your story. As my tales evolve the universe will become populated with many new and strange characters. Use one of mine or create new ones. After all we have a town full of people and I can’t possibly write about all of them.

I am grateful to Nifty for posting my stories. if you enjoyed my story or any others on this site then please show your appreciation and donate whatever you can afford. Every little helps. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

My stories are also hosted on www.screeve.org so go and take a look.