This is the final part of my story. It includes descriptions of consensual activity amongst pubescent boys so if this kind of material is forbidden to you, or if you are likely to be offended, you should proceed no further. None of the events or characters are true, it is all a product of my wild imaginings!

Final Year at Chubbington Hall

A Prep School Story

PART SEVENTEEN : Michael's Bottom

It is the summer term at Chubbington Hall prep school. This means it is Tom's final term at the school after which he and the other senior boys will head off for pastures new at public school. It also means examinations are upon them – the dreaded Common Entrance which they've been steadily working towards during their time at Chubbington. Lessons for the seniors don't involve much new teaching, filled as they are with revision, cramming and mock examination questions. The boys are also expected to use as much free time as possible to study.

After prep one evening, several boys are in the library revising. Tom is among them studying his French textbook. They'd had a French vocabulary test earlier that day and he had made a complete hash of it. He knew a grade of C- was not good enough and that he had to at least achieve a B grade to get into his chosen school. So now he was busily correcting his errors.

A voice distracts him. It is Michael Bellamy, Mr Stanton's 'favourite'. “Hey, Ackerley, what are you doing?”

“French,” Tom explains, looking up from his work. “I made a right tangle of it today!”

“What did you get?”

“Only a C minus. You?”

“B plus,” Michael proudly replies.

“No talking, boys!” The librarian snaps from across the room. “If you want to chatter, go elsewhere.”

Michael and Tom look at one another. Tom beckons with his eyes as if to say he is happy to leave the library if Michael wishes to follow. They pack away their books and leave.

There is no-one about in the corridor so they stop there to talk. The walls of the corridor are lined with school photographs going back some decades. There are 'whole school' pictures, with boys and masters arranged neatly in rows, and some team ones including one that has Tom amongst that year's First XV, with all the boys in their rugby kit and the captain holding a trophy they've won.

“I've been meaning to ask you,” Tom begins, “How are things with Mr Stanton these days?”

“Oh, that...” Michael replies.

“Yes, has he bummed you yet?”

“No, not yet. I sort of want him to, but his willy's too big and it hurts whenever he tries!”

“I bet!”

“He's put a finger in though.”

“Really?” says Tom, not aware that such behaviour was 'a thing'.

“I quite liked that,” Michael explains. “Mr Stanton says it will open me up or some such but his willy still won't go in! He says I just have to relax but I'm always too nervous.”

“Maybe you need someone with a smaller knob,” says Tom.

“You mean a boy-sized one?” Michael grins,

“Yes, I suppose that would do the trick.”

“Now, where can I find a willing boy-sized willy?” grins Michael with a crafty wink.

“You mean?”

“Yes, why not? That's if you want to, of course!”

“Oh, yes, that would be utterly wizard!” Tom smiles.

“How about we go down to the cellars?” suggests Michael.

Tom knows that is out of the question as Jasper has confessed at tea that he will be going down there to have some 'fun' with Alexander Jefferson. “I have a better idea,” he says. “The tuck-shop! I know where the key is kept. As long as we're careful no-one will know we're in there.”

“Okay,” agrees Michael. “I need to go and fetch something so I'll meet you there in five minutes.”

As one of the tuck-shop monitors, Tom knows that the key is kept in the desk drawer of the duty master's office. Fortunately, the master on duty isn't there and he easily purloins the key. He meets Michael by the tuck-shop and, once the coast is clear, he lets them into the compact space. He locks the door behind them and, as there are no windows, switches on the light.

“What's that?” asks Tom, as Michael retrieves something from his blazer pocket.

“It's some hand cream,” Michael explains. “Mr Stanton uses something like this when he fingers my bum. I found this in the bathroom cabinet at home over the holidays.”

Both boys remove their shorts and white underpants, dropping them in a pile in the corner. They are already stiff, with Tom's five inches easily exceeding Michael's little dickie. Michael kneels in front of Tom, grabs the iron-hard teen cock and envelops it with his mouth. Tom sighs in delight as he feels Michael's warm, wet tongue teasing the head of his cock. Michael holds Tom's dangling balls and alternates between gentle squeezes and light tickles. He has clearly learned a number of ways to satisfy another male and works at it skilfully.

“You're going to make me spunk if you keep doing that,” says Tom.

“Not until you've tried to bum me first!” Michael replies, releasing Tom's cock from his mouth. He reaches across to the small jar he'd brought, unscrews the lid and scoops out a dollop of cream. He then offers the jar to Tom, saying “Put some on your willy.”

Tom takes the jar and applies the cream along the length of his shaft. Meanwhile, Michael is smearing it around his anus and pushing a little way inside with a finger. He turns his back on Tom, crouching down and holding his knees as if they are about to play leapfrog. “Go on,” he says.

Tom moves behind Michael and his cock moves into the crease of the boy's buttocks. Tom wipes his cock-head up and down the crack. It slips and slides beautifully. He then guides the tip until it finds the puckered opening. “Ready?” he asks.

“Yes, but go please go slowly,” Michael replies. “And stop if I say so.”

The last thing Tom wants to do is hurt his friend so he moves tentatively, his exposed tip probing and poking, and feeling the resistance of Michael's hole. He pushes forward slowly making Michael whimper. Tom tries again and this time the muscular ring suddenly opens. Tom slides within by perhaps two inches. Michael cries out, “Wait!” and Tom freezes.

“Do you want me to take it out?” Tom asks.

“No, keep it there but don't move yet.” Then, after a pause, “Okay, try pushing in again.”

This time Tom's cock slides in easily, the hard work done. He soon has the full length of his teenboy shaft buried deep inside Michael's rear.

“It feels so tight!” says Tom, “And so hot...it's bloody lovely!”

“I can feel your whole willy in my bum,” says Michael from below. “It's a weird feeling but also a really nice one!”

So Tom begins bumming Michael. At first he moves cautiously but once he feels Michael is fully open his strokes become more vigorous. Gripping Michael's hips, Tom's fucking action increases in speed and power until his own pert buttocks are flexing like a bucking rabbit. In no time, he is gasping for breath and depositing his warm, sticky boy-sperm in Michael's bottom.

They keep still for a moment, gathering their breaths and calming down from their exertions. Then Tom, eases his still half-hard cock from the boy's slimy hole.

Michael turns to Tom with a very satisfied look on his face. “That was wizard, thanks! It gave me such a fantastic tingle!”

“That's because you just spunked!” says Tom, “Look!”

Sure enough, there are several small droplets of boy-spunk on the floor, directly beneath where Michael had been crouching.

“Golly Moses!” exclaims Michael. “Mr Stanton says that sometimes people can't stop spunking up when they are being bummed. You've done it, Ackerley, you've jolly well bummed my first spunk out of me!”

“The pleasure's all mine,” chuckles Tom, who is now wiping clean his cock on his handkerchief. “We had better hurry, I need to get the key back to the office before anyone notices.”

Michael touches his just-fucked bottom. “Yuk!” he complains, “I'm leaking! Thank goodness it is nearly time for showers!”

* * * * * * * * * *

As an aside, Mr Stanton never did get to fuck young Michael Bellamy. Michael always claimed that the schoolmaster's cock was just too big but Tom liked to think that it was because he preferred a schoolboy's knob instead. That said, once Michael went on to senior school he gained something of a reputation as a bumboy, willingly bending over for a good many pupils and staff alike.

* * * * * * * * * *

PART EIGHTEEN : Fun In The Woods

Even with all the extra pressure of Common Entrance examinations, there are still plenty of opportunities for Tom and his friends to play and have fun. The summer term always provides the best weather and longer days so Chubbington boys make the most of it when they can.

The large wooded areas that border the school grounds are a particular favourite on Sundays, the only fully free day once they've finished the chapel service. In addition to the usual tree-climbing, den building and hide-and-seek, there is a certain game that finds itself revived every summer term. Nobody knows who invented it, schoolboy rumour claims it goes right back to the very first Chubbington pupils. It is played every year just the same and the rules, such as they are, are handed down to the younger boys from the older ones in succession. It's called 'Prisoner'.

On this particular afternoon, Tom and a handful of other boys are gathered in a group beside the ancient oak tree that has always served as the starting and finishing point of the game. They are sorting themselves into two teams of four:

TEAM 1: Tom Ackerley and Giles Pettigrew (both seniors), Philip Bannister and Thomas Harrison (both aged 12 and in the year below Tom's)

TEAM TWO: Alexander Jefferson and Clive Dunsmore (seniors), Gus Macdonald and Stephen Williamson (also aged 12)

The boys know the rules, of course, but here they are for you, the reader:

1.Each team has one hider. His task is simply to evade capture.

2.The other team members are finders. They work as a group to discover the whereabouts of the opposition's hider and take him prisoner.

3.The first team to capture a prisoner wins the game.

4.Both teams then unite to exact a punishment upon the unfortunate losing hider.

Deciding who does what nearly always ends up with bickering. On this occasion, Tom's team eventually elects Giles to be their hider. He knows the woods as well as anyone, is familiar with the best hiding places and has an undefeated record having never been caught. Alexander's team has chosen Gus, one of the younger boys, to be hider based purely on the assumption that older boys make better finders. Tom and Alexander, as captains, each have a whistle to blow as a signal that a hider has been found and all should then gather back at the oak tree for the finale.

“Are we all ready?” Alexander asks the gathering.

“Yes, I'm the hider for our team,” Giles says.

“And Gus is going to be ours,” says Clive.

Alexander checks his wristwatch. “Very well, let's begin. The hiders have the usual two minutes head start. Off you go!”

Gus and Giles hurtle off in different directions to find a good place to conceal themselves. The other six boys watch them go, trying to work out where the hiders might be heading and getting more and more excited as the seconds tick past. After what seems an eternity, Alexander announces the hunt is on and the two teams speed off in pursuit.

The woods are extensive and it takes some time before a whistle is heard to announce a hider has been discovered. Tom's team have found Gus sitting on a branch of a tree and are now jubilantly frog-marching their captive back to the oak tree. It isn't long before Alexander's team joins them there, followed by Giles who had hidden himself inside a tangle of brambles and has the scratches to show for it.

It is customary, at this point in the game, to tie the prisoner to the oak tree. Hidden inside a hole in the gnarly old tree is some rope, kept there for the purposes of the game. Tom fishes it out and then all seven boys set about tying up poor Gus. Although they all know it's a game, they play act in a primitive manner as if they were a bunch of native warriors who had just captured one of their enemies. As well as using the length of rope, three of the boys sacrifice their own elasticated belts and Gus is soon subjugated. He sits against the tree, trussed up and at the mercy of the boys.

The 'punishment' part is the climax of the game. Generations of Chubbington boys have come up with all manner of forfeits and penalties.

Today is no different and, after some discussion, proposals are put forward for Tom (as victorious captain) to choose from.

“Let's whack him with some stinging nettles,” suggests Thomas.

“You know the rules, Harrison, no-one gets physically hurt in 'Prisoner'.”

“We could just leave him there,” Clive offers. “Maybe come back to free him later?”

“You never know, some ants might crawl inside his shorts and bite him!” laughed Thomas, who clearly has a sadistic streak.

“We could 'pants' him,” Giles puts forward.

“What about tickling him?” suggests Stephen.

“I don't think so,” says Alexander. “We did that to someone last year and they ended up peeing themselves with laughter!”

Tom has made his decision. “We'll go with Giles' idea,” he says, “Let's 'pants' him!”

There's a scramble of boys who throw themselves upon the helpless Gus and in seconds they've removed the boy's shorts. Tom is quick to notice the outline of a stubby cocklet inside the boy's underwear.

“Now what?” asks Alexander.

Tom gives orders, “Put his shorts over his head so he can't see... now, take his [under]pants off!”

Gus doesn't really mind and knows this is all in fun. Besides, enough boys have seen his little willy in the showers over the years to ruin any sense of novelty.

The seven boys are soon pointing and giggling at Gus, possessor of a hairless - but decidedly cute - two-inch knob, its foreskin tapering to a point. Thomas finds a long, thin twig and proceeds to poke it at the prisoner's little cock. “Hee hee! Look at his willy!” he cries, dancing about gleefully.

“See if you can get it on bonk!” says Clive. But despite Thomas's prodding the little nub remains resolutely soft.

“I'll do it,” says Giles, “And I won't need to use a stick.” He kneels beside Gus and pushes Thomas's stick aside. He then takes the little organ bewteen finger and thumb and begins to play with it.

“Get off!” protests Gus from beneath the shorts atop his head.

“Don't worry,” says Giles, “I'm not going to snap it off!”

“It's not fair, you shouldn't be touching me like that!”

“But you're the prisoner, remember. The rules say we can do anything we like as long as we don't hurt you.”

“And that definitely looks like he's doing something nice rather than something horrid!” Alexander chips in.

Giles' dainty fingerwork is reaping results and Gus' little knob is stiffening. Before long, its full two-and-a-half inches is standing proud.

“Gus has got a bonk on, Gus has got a bonk on!” Thomas sings.

“He's not the only one,” Tom says. “Look here!” He points at the obvious bulge in his own shorts.

“Me too!” announces Alexander, showing off his bulge. “Anyone else?”

“I'm a bit on bonk, I suppose,” Philip confesses.

“Prove it!” Thomas challenges. Philip doesn't hesitate to pull down the front of his shorts and giving them all a quick glimpse of his three inch hard-on.

“Nice knob!” Tom says, “And big for your age.”

“Not as big as Stephen's is,” says Philip, referring to the other twelve-year-old in the gang.

“Shut up!” says Stephen, looking ashamed.

“Never mind about shutting up!” says Tom, “You've got to prove it now!”

“No way will I do that. It's rude!” Stephen declares.

Tom has the solution as usual. “We'll all show, one by one. Stephen can go last if it makes him feel less embarrassed.”

“What about me?” says Gus, their rather forgotten tied-up prisoner.

Giles and Tom remove the pair of shorts from Gus' head and untie the various constraints. “You're no longer our prisoner,” explains Tom, “But you can't put your shorts back on just yet. Stand there next to Philip, that's right. Who's next, then?”

Alexander volunteers, dropping his shorts and underpants and revealing his erection. It is a complete contrast to the others, a fine five inches of stiff, adolescent grandeur. He stands beside Philip who by now has his little knob permanently on view.

“What a huge one!” exclaims Thomas, who has often seen it in the showers but never in its full glory.

One by one, the other boys step up until there are seven stiff boycocks on display. They have formed a circle, looking inwards at one another. Only Stephen remains recalcitrant.

“Come on, Williamson,” says Giles. “We've all done the grand reveal! It's your turn, don't be a spoilsport.”

With a sigh, Stephen joins the circle and pulls his shorts down like the others.

“See! I said it was a big one!” says Philip. Stephen has a fine one, for sure. At four inches it isn't much shorter than Giles'. It is thin, though, and still devoid of any sign of pubes.

For a minute they stand there inspecting one another. Some of the younger ones giggle nervously.

“Can any of you older boys make spunk yet?” asks Philip.

“Of course we can!” says Clive, indignantly.

“Can you show me? I have never seen spunk before!”

“I reckon we can all show you, don't you agree?” says Giles, getting nods of assent from Tom, Alexander and Clive.

Tom has another idea. “I know, let's make it interesting!”

“How?” asks Gus.

“A race?” asks Giles, hopefully. He usually wins any wanking race that the boys have.

“A race, yes,” Tom explains, “But the four younger boys have to help the four older boys!”

“Urggh!” groans Stephen. “I'm not touching another boy's willy!”

“It's easy,” says Tom, “You just hold it tight and rub it up and down. It won't bite you!”

“I bags Gus!” says Alexander, staking his claim to a helper.

“And I bags Thomas!” declares Colin.

“Who do you want?” Tom asks Giles.

“I bags Philip!” says Giles, knowing full well he's left his best friend the reticent Stephen.

They line up in their designated pairs and quickly set to work. Even Stephen bites the bullet and joins in. The older boys offer various tips such as, “Do it faster!”and “Hold it tighter...not that tight!” and “Pull it back so all the top bit pokes out!” The younger boys also chatter away, “Is it coming yet?”and “Ha! It's making your balls go all bouncy!” and “Hurry up, my arm's aching!”

Unsurprisingly, Giles cums first, spilling his little dollop of milky seed onto the ground, much to the delight of little Gus who cries out, “We won! We won!”

Thomas succeeds in wanking Colin into second place. Colin moans and then squirts a couple of thin traces of sperm.

It appears to be a dead heat between Tom and Alexander as they both expel their boy juices in the same instant. Alexander's thinner cum spurts some way and Tom does his usual thick dribble that spatters upon the ground.

Once they have all calmed down and gathered their breath there is a surprising declaration from none other than Stephen, “Right! Now it's our turn! You older boys have to play with our knobs until we get the jiggles!”

“Yes,” agrees Philip. “And let's make it another race, too!”

The older boys pair off once more with the ones who have just made each of them spunk. Tom and Alexander elect to kneel in front of their boys which gives them a close-up view of the cute knobs. Giles stands next to his boy, Gus, using a finger and thumb to jerk the two-and-a-half inch morsel. Colin's chooses to stand behind his boy, Thomas, reaching around the youngster and tugging the cocklet vigorously.

Tom is determined to bring his boy to 'the jiggles' before the others. He uses the fingers of his free hand to fondle Stephen's tiny, hairless nut-sack. Stephen relishes the attention and even open his legs a little so Tom's fingers can stray further and tickle his perineum.

In a few moments, the four twelve-year-olds are twisting and squirming as their dry cums explode. Stephen is first and, judging by the sounds he utters, it consumes him in a strange mixture of pain and delight. He is quickly followed by the others, with Thomas almost falling over with the thrill of it.

“By golly!” exclaims Tom, “You made spunk, Stephen!”

There, on the very tip of the boy's cock, is a small pearly drop. It looks like precum although it might just as easily be a tiny bead of the real thing.

“It does that sometimes,” Stephen says, rather matter-of-factly.

Tom is tempted to do a taste test on the glistening drip but in the end holds back. He does, however, make a silent note to himself that Stephen might be worth another go if he can tempt him to a more private assignation.

The other three boys are definitely dry cummers. Gus was so overwhelmed that his tiny balls have virtually disappeared back inside him!

As quickly as it had all begun the end is sudden. Boys think like puppydogs sometimes and are easily distracted. “Hey, it's nearly four o'clock. I'll race you lot back to school!” Alexander declares. They scamper off, even as they are still fastening their shorts A few droplets of boy-spunk are the only evidence that they have all had a wonderful afternoon in the woods.

* * * * * * * * * *

PART NINETEEN : Finale

It is time to bid farewell to Chubbington Hall prep school. Tom and his friends are at the end of their happy time there and next term will be starting at their new schools. They are sad to leave, of course, but also excited by the opportunities ahead even though they will suddenly find themselves at the bottom of the heap once more. Many of them will go on to one particular Public School, which means they'll meet up with some of their friends in the autumn. Tom, Giles and Alexander will all be attending their new school together so they know there will be plenty of times to suck and wank together in the years ahead. Michael will be there too, which means Tom will have at least one tight boy-bum to fuck. There will be plenty of unfamiliar boys as well, a whole new crop of boys to entice into wickedness. He can't wait!

* * * * * * * * * *

Thank you to those who have emailed. I always welcome comments, feedback, suggestions or just chat and endeavour to answer all emails promptly. You'll find me here: drf333@ tutanota.com

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