The Apprentice
by and © N Fourbois
Chapter 29
Kieran turned his latch key in the door and called out as he went in.
"Hallo, darling. I'm in the kitchen," a voice answered.
"Hi, Mum," he replied.
"What sort of day have you had?"
"Great. I think I'm going to enjoy life at the College."
"Did you make any nice friends?"
"Probably."
"Your father'll be home any minute. I'm just making tea. Go and get changed and you can tell us both all about it then. You can take your time. I haven't buttered the bread yet." Kieran started to make his way upstairs. "Put all your dirty clothes in the linen basket."
"I always do, Mum."
Kieran reached his bedroom and slumped into his executive black leather desk chair that swivelled. He suddenly felt tired and realised how much the day had taken out of him in nervous energy. He swivelled round and looked at the picture in the large silver frame on his dressing table. It was a photograph his father had taken of him and Orlando when they were on holiday. They looked good together, a natural couple. For him it had become an important symbol of his father's acceptance of his homosexuality. His father had sent it on to a local printer where they had transformed it electronically to look like a drawing and produced some posters four feet high out of it. Orlando had one and Kieran had mounted one on the wall over his bed. He thought back over the day and the two people who had made an impression on him and entered his life. There was Jack who had picked him out of the crowd, so to speak, and befriended him. And then there was William with whom he had been thrown together by the vagaries of life. Three men in his life. The thought of them made him feel horny. 'Guys, I suppose,' he pondered. 'You could scarcely call William a man.' Kieran stared down his body, mesmerised by watching (and feeling) his dick expanding and making a bulge in his loose school trousers. He grinned at the outline of the tip of his knob. Suddenly he got up out of his chair, stripped his clothes off and went under the shower. His expanding dick had grown into a full blown (an unfortunate choice of words) stiffie. 'I'm not going to wank it,' he thought. 'I'll just let the water play on it.' He watched his foreskin peel back. He stood under the spray with his fingers interlaced, hands on his head. The glans reacted very sensitively as the warm water teased it. He closed his eyes and felt the pressure build as images of Orlando, Jack and William paraded before his mind's eye. Eventually it happened. The sensation reached its climax and his seed dribbled down his shaft, over his balls and was washed down the plughole by the cascade. He needed that. Somehow it was better for his lack of manual intervention. His cock lost its stiffness, but its size was temporarily undiminished. He loved the way he could wave it about. But it was only temporary relief. He knew the randy feeling would soon return. He must find a boyfriend soon. Orlando wouldn't mind. He had granted him his freedom, and gained his own at the same time. 'One in ten they say according to the statistic is gay,' thought Kieran, 'though I don't really believe it. That means that there must be at least twenty gayboys in the sixth form, but they are never the ones you fancy.' He washed his hair and the sweaty parts, turned the water off and dried himself off. There was still a pearly globule of semen clinging to the slit in his glans. He scooped it up with his courting finger and placed it on the tip of his tongue. 'Mmm, I haven't tasted that for a while.'
He took care choosing his clothes. His little adventure in the shower had not done much to dampen his ardour. He took out a pair of knee length lycra shorts, the black ones made from the toughest material, and pulled them on. Whatever happened, his cock was in no mood to buckle down and so he wore it pointing north. 'Doesn't matter now if it does stiffen up again.' He took pains to tuck one ball down either side of the crotch. He loved the feeling. Finally he put on the longest tee shirt he could find in his wardrobe so that he couldn't be accused of indecency, then decided to lie on his bed for five minutes before putting on his sandals and going downstairs.
His thoughts ranged over his first day at the College. It had occupied his mind to such an extent that sex had been the least of his thoughts. That was probably why he felt so horny now. He was stretched out on his back, fingers interlaced behind his head again. Although his eyes were open, they were not focussed, but providing the illustrations for the events of the day. He again conjured up visions of Orlando, then Jack and then William. It occurred to him that he had not checked out a single boy, not even Jack or William. 'Hmm, I must do something about that on Monday.' He savoured the feeling of his hot cock forced against his lower abdomen by the lycra. 'I'll do something about that tonight. How I wish I had Orlando here to do it for me. Someone else's hand always feels better than your own.' His mind strayed to the contents of the safe in his wardrobe. That was where he kept his secrets, more prosaically his sex toys. The combination was secure in his head. It was a rule never to unlock the safe when his parents were at home, but rules were made to be broken. He had an ample supply and variety of condoms and gel, as encouraged by his uncle, the butt plug belonging to Eric, a cock chastity device surplus to Eric's requirements - he might need that at school on Monday (wishful thinking), a set of oriental anal beads, a graduation present from Eric at the end of his apprenticeship. Thank goodness for the internet and debit cards... and his uncle's address for shipping.
Kieran was returned to reality by his mother's call up the stairs that tea was ready. He went down and greeted his father, surprised for he hadn't heard him come in, but then that may have been while he was being distracted in the shower. Finally they sat down to tea at the kitchen table. Dean Williams was keen to find out how his son had got on during his first day.
"It's a different class of person altogether at the College," said Kieran. "It's as if everyone wants to help everyone else. They want to succeed and they succeed through this team spirit, not at the expense of others."
"Sounds as if we should have sent you there in the first place," said his father. "Why didn't we?"
"Because St Sergius's starts with Year 7 and the College doesn't start until Year 9, following the prep school 13+ system," replied his mother.
"Oh, that's right," said Dean.
"I nearly forgot to tell you," said Kieran. "I've got a fag."
"What, like in Tom Brown's Schooldays?" replied his father.
"Something like that, but we're not allowed to thrash them."
"I should think not," remarked his mother, somewhat indignantly.
"I'm supposed to give him little jobs to do and at the end of the week tip him a pound, or two pounds if he's been very good."
"You make sure you're generous and give him two," said Colleen Williams.
"His name is William McLarney and he's as new as I am at the school."
"Fagging went out years ago," said his father. " I wonder why they kept it on."
"It's all to do with leadership and learning how to work your way up in society," said Kieran.
"You haven't fallen in love with him?" joked his father. It was Kieran's turn to feign indignation.
"Certainly not. I'm not a cradle snatcher." Then he realised that there were the same number of years between him and William as there were between him and Orlando.
Kieran was at rather a loose end that weekend. Orlando may not be away with his parents yet, but anyway, once they'd agree to split, that was it. Kieran didn't have any real friends from his old school which was a closed book now as far as he was concerned. Saturday morning he would, almost out of desperation, play a round of golf with his father. He had no ambitions to get into a College rugby team. He knew how strong they were and that he was out of their league. He would confine his enjoyment to throwing a ball around the rugby pitch for two afternoons a week with the also-rans, unless he could fix up some fitness in the gym. He took comfort in the fact that his father might actually beat someone at golf if he joined him for a game. Saturday evening the family had tickets for a Gilbert & Sullivan's Piates of Pemzance at the local theatre. He was grateful that television was a definite last resort for entertainment at home. Uncle Eric had a house guest and so there was nothing doing for him there. In fact, Uncle Eric appeared to have a 'house guest' most weekends. He would hear all about it on Monday evening when he went off to the gym with him.
After rather a lot of semen had been spilt, Monday morning finally arrived. Kieran was looking forward to getting to school and getting stuck into some work. It had after all been some months since he had attended classes and academically he was quite an earnest boy. Sitting on the top deck of the bus he looked out for Jack Bastion's stop and wasn't disappointed when the boy got on, came upstairs and sat down next to him. They talked about the weekend. Jack had been to the rugby trials on Saturday and thought he might end up playing in the 3rd XV, the 2nds if he was really lucky.
"You have to be something special to get into the Firsts in the Lower Sixth. So are you settling in okay?"
"Yes. I think I am going to like it here. There's a very positive atmosphere." Jack nodded. "But you must have some bolshie kids?"
"Not really. They tend to be weeded out."
"You mean kicked out?"
"Not exactly. Perhaps it would be better to say they weeded themselves out."
"How do you mean?"
"Take schoolwork for instance. There is plenty of help here if you want it, that's the important thing. You must use your initiative and want it and so if you were to fall behind through attitude, your parents are soon advised that it might be more beneficial if you were to continue your education elsewhere. Then, and you've already put your finger on it, there's the positive atmosphere. Not only does everyone want to succeed, but they want everyone else to succeed with them. Don't think there isn't any competition. There is. And so if anyone is silly enough to upset that ethos, they quickly make themselves social outcasts. The third thing, I suppose, is the fact that it costs a lot of money to come here and so you get pressure from home." Kieran was taking all this in and was in broad agreement. How different from his last school. "Yes, it's a hothouse, but if you don't like the heat, get out of the kitchen to mix metaphors. No one will stand in your way."
"What sort of jobs should I give my fag?"
"Don't kill the goose that lays the golden eggs, Kieran."
"Meaning?"
"It's not an exercise in skivvying, but rather one in helping a younger pupil to settle in and get used to College. I had a good fagmaster when I was in the third form and I stayed with him in the fourth. My brother gave me some tips too. Ask your fag to tidy your study cubicle after school. It gets him into the habit of staying behind, there is no time pressure and most importantly you can be there to talk to him. What was your first impression of him?"
"Positive. There was something that gelled between us at first sight. How about yours?" Jack gave a little chuckle.
"In a few weeks' time he could be a complete and utter tart, popular with the older boys. He's blond with blue eyes and a ready smile. I'm going to have to establish my territorial rights there."
The bell in the bus pinged and it was time to get off. That particular conversation was over. The subject might never come up again, but it had given Kieran something to think about.
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