Johnny Come Home

by Rafael Henry

Chapter 29

'Why don't you talk to Duncan. Sound him out. He's ideal.' Quintus asks. I'm standing in the window looking out intro the formal gardens in front of the main building. Quintus has his hand on my shoulder, gently moving it in small circles. I'm thinking more about how that feels than his question. Am I weakening? Am I about to forgive him. If so, should I?

He's standing behind me, and so close I can feel him against the back of my trousers. His fingers are playing with my neck and pushing them up into my hair. Nothing else Quintus. Please, nothing more than this. I'm weakening by the second.

I know what this is all about. He has recognized serious danger since I told him the extent of my IT travels into certain private 'rooms'. I haven't told him I know he's involved with Angus in more than one way. But he suspects. He needs to get me disadvantaged……..vulnerable in other words. As usual he has to be the strong one, the dominant one. Time to exert a little of my own power now.

'You never let me have what I wanted Quintus.'

'For good reasons Alex. It wasn't right for you. That's a good reason isn't it?'

'And Johnny?'

'Yes. Him too.'

'But right for you?'

'Yes. Perfect, up to a point.'

'What do want me to do Quintus?'

'Right now?'

'Yes. Now.'

'What would you like to do? Your choice. I'm in your hands Alex.'

'Squeeze your balls very very hard? How about that?'

'Go ahead.'

'And that won't equal us out. It would take a lot more than that. And there's Johnny too. Don't forget him.'

I knew he was hard as a rock. I could feel the thing poking into my trousers. So when I turned around to face my persecutor, there it is, sticking almost up to the waistband of his shorts, and out like a boy admiring himself erect, excited by the feel of his new pants. It's something I have no experience of; the adult penis, apart from my own barely adult and weedy example, and frankly I'm in very inferior to Quintus in that department. His testicles feel twice the size of mine. But I'm wavering because I'm naturally curious. I'm standing here with power over my oppressor. Why should I give him the pleasure? Perhaps if I went a short distance along the way with him? Tease the bastard for a while? That might be rather fun. But there's danger there. No, I shall.

I was right. Some erections never seem to get that hard, in my limited experience with boys. Peregrine Merciful for a notable example. Never completely hard. He came, but he still wasn't what I would call properly stiff like a piece of wood. I am now, parked as I am against this length of man cock.

Quintus wanted to kiss but I'm not having any of that. Those balls of his. I saw them hanging down years ago and was impressed. If you're used to young boys, those things are indeed something to behold, and admire.

They feel hard too, his balls, as I squeeze them just as I threatened to do. Now I'm doing it. Quintus draws a deep breath, and then slowly exhales.

'May I?' He asks quietly.

It's a question of how far to let him go. Trousers undone now, and my pants visible. Dinosaurs this time. A clandestine visit to the lost property box, a tea chest that is, but now a box of treasures. My hips are naturally narrow, and my frame quite light. I can get into things intended for others far younger. What sweet little package has occupied this space I currently reside in, all curled up like a walnut whip, waiting for night to come, and another good feeling after mummy has kissed him goodnight and closed the door. Bless this good loser whoever he is [no name tag sadly], and all those dinosaurs.

'Well? Are you going to let the dog see the rabbit Alex?'

'I don't know. Why should I?'

'Because you want to. It won't make any difference to anything will it? I'd quite like to see how you've progressed since I last had the opportunity.'

'You had it, but didn't want it as I recall. What about Johnny then?'

'What about him?'

'Tell all please. He's my best friend. He wouldn't tell me but I worked out it was you.'

'Did you. May I? Please?'

The thing actually feels hot as I grasp it with my hand underneath and amidships. An absolute rocket of a thing he has. I grip it hard, and then as hard as I could in my fist thinking I can hurt him. That's what I want to do. Cause him some pain. It hardly gave at all. It's rock hard, just as I am now.

'One kiss? Please?'

I watch as his face gets closer to mine, his tongue moistening his lips. I give his penis another very hard squeeze, and then slide my hand forwards, still gripping him hard, right up and over the head. And then again, and felt something. There's wet there. There's no doubt about it. A slippery wetness. No further Alex. Stop now or there will be dire consequences. I'll just be giving up my position of power. Quintus will always want to come out on top.

He kissed me, his tongue right inside my mouth. I could have masturbated him, albeit clumsily, my fist around his penis between our two tummies. He went on kissing me, more him than me. I was just letting him do it. His breathing began to quicken whilst playing with my mouth, his hands wringing the flesh around my shoulders and neck. And then he stops kissing me and looks down into the gap between our bodies like two young schoolboys with their pants down behind the cricket pavilion.

'Keep going.'

I stopped and looked down too, both of us focused on the dark red point in the centre of the head of his penis as it rose up between us. It had widened and opened noticeably, a sure sign that ejaculation is not far away. I give him a few more strokes, and stop. Then a few more. Teasy me. I keep looking at the centre of his and my pleasure, deep and dark and wide open now. A few more strokes, and then the twitching will begin. I laugh as I watch, triumphant now. The bastard.

He showed me to the bathroom as I felt the need to wash my hands.

We're all legal now. We weren't then. Far from it, but I was the one who wanted it. Quintus wanted it too I'm totally sure, but did not cross that line. I'm obliged to respect him for resisting the charms of a highly sexed boy who couldn't possibly know better.

I'm allowed to attend staff meetings if there's something on the agenda that has any relevance to my role, so if anything to do with IT is on, then I'm invited to attend; or rather told to. Quintus was introduced and outlined the plan Dr Angus and he had devised. Quintus's first assignment, ostensibly to form part of a new prospectus. Numbers are not great right now. It is to be a collection of photographic and video essays recording a variety of the boys' activities, day to day. The boys would be made aware so they would very quickly become used to his presence and his camera and just act normally. Quintus would become part of the furniture, ever present in any situation, almost unnoticed. The boys would continue whatever they were doing and not question anything, or talk about anything; just accept his presence.

In particular, Duncan was to accept Quintus's presence. He has been singled out as 'the perfect subject'. He told me this news today.

'It's fantastic isn't it Alex? I like him and he's been really kind to me with all the advice I've been given by him. He's great. I think my work has come on really well since he's been here. Don't you think it has? Do you like him? I wish you would. You don't do you? Well I do, so if you don't we don't have to be friends any more. He told me that you might not be a good influence on me. I thought you were but he's says I don't have to listen to everything you say.'

I listened to Duncan's little speech with a mixture of horror and anger. The bastard has got to him through his artwork, praising him this way and that, so now he has him in the palm of his hand. Time for a serious chat with Duncan's new mentor, Mr Quintus Beer.

'I know what you're doing Quintus. You've set him up perfectly haven't you?'

'I need someone to focus on and he's about right for this Alex, as you well know. You're just jealous. You're not the only one in this place now. I can bring him on faster than you ever could.'

'Some private tuition? Is that the plan? I thought you had a moral code Quintus? That's what you told me.'

'I have. Do you? And I agree with you Alex. Duncan is the perfect subject, just as you are. The two of you. If it's not the two of you, then you're out of the picture, literally, and he's right in the picture. Just him. It's either you two, or just him, but it's going to be him either way. Do you get what I'm saying Alex? I want you two together. The perfect example of what's good in this place, or one of the good things. The teaching, and the standards set. Progression. Fulfilment. What happens in school and out of it. You and him.'

'And this is all for public consumption is it Quintus? Or private consumption?'

'Both, of course. Think about it Alex. You'll have control along with me. The editing part. Duncan's public and private mentor. By the way I've heard all about his holiday trip to Endellion Cove, or wherever it was. That sounded very interesting Alex. A nice boyfriend for Duncan? All that nudity. Sounds lovely, so there shouldn't be any kind of a problem should there? What with all your IT expertise? Don't tell me you haven't used it on certain situations? I can't believe you'd let opportunities go like that? He's so perfect a subject for an in-depth study and analysis. Anyway Duncan has told me all about it. What went on at this hut place by the beach.'

In depth? What does he mean by that? Ok. Too many question marks. I agree, but there are a few too many questions in my head right now. He's mine to look after, not Quintus's. It's typical of him. Ownership. That's what he wants, but I'd rather he owned me and not Duncan. Maybe I shall have to become the sacrificial lamb.

It was after morning Chapel, and neither of us had a commitment until later in the morning. Not a bad job at all, being our own bosses much of the time. Quintus caught up with me.

'I owe you little man.' Says Quintus.

'What for?'

'Last night.'

'And too much of a good thing into the bargain.' I reply.

'Yes. That's me I'm afraid. Some do and some don't.'

'You mean some can and some can't?'

'Precisely. You? Unless you want to show me? Have you been storing it all up for me?' Quintus asks.

'You can but hope, and yes, it's a strictly limited supply Quintus.'

'Surely not. Once a month then?

'It has to be that often otherwise we might have an early morning problem.'

'We have washing machines these days Alex. Anyway, I have a plan for you and Duncan.'

'And you I suppose? You don't do anything that doesn't end up benefitting you Quintus.'

'Oh ye of little faith! I'm going to speak to Duncan. I need to know exactly where he is with you, and after that, where you are with him. If you are at that special meeting point, I would like to proceed.'

'Proceed……with what?'

'Your journey together. Connecting up love and art Alex. It's as simple as that. I think Duncan will want it just as much as you do. And I will record it, as it happens in all honesty and integrity. Perfect intimacy, en Son et Lumiere. In sound and light Alex.'

'For all the world to see and know.'

'No, of course not! The majority will be for all the world to see, but the rest is a private matter between us. Between us, and a work of art. It will take your work a step further. It will take it to the next level on your journey. It will no doubt take you out of this place too.'

'Where?'

'Who knows. Might you be up for it?'

'I might be. Depending on how far up you want me to go.' I said jokingly.

'I'm seeing Duncan tonight. You're not to be concerned about that. Don't worry. I'm not planning to take your place Alex.'

'You had better not be. Can I come too.'

Quintus laughed at that. Not the best choice of words under the circumstances but I'm rather enjoying playing the innuendo game.

'It was Johnny's younger brother wasn't it? He and Duncan shared the bed.'

'Yes. They got on famously.'

'All the way?'

'I don't know. I doubt it. You've seen Duncan and talked to him. It's a private matter Quintus. Behind closed doors.'

'Nothing in public then?'

'Oh a bit of fooling about, the pair of them on the decking so I can fill a sketchbook. Very nice.'

'Lots of stroking and hard-ons then?'

'Yes, plenty of that. Twelve and thirteen-year-old healthy sexual parts. They're all human, and enjoy one another. It doesn't come much better than that. Being close to all that. Seeing it all go on.'

'It does Alex. It could get a lot better than that.'

So that's what he's after is it?

I didn't go to the meeting Duncan had with Quintus. I told Duncan it wasn't a great idea to go to the flat the school had given Quintus, but there was nothing I could say to deter him. All the praise and encouragement Quintus had lavished on him had worked, just as it had worked for me all those years ago. Anything Quintus wants him to do, he'll do I reckon. I'll see the boy later tonight and find out what happened. Duncan will tell me, or he'll get his lovely bottom smacked…….hard. Only joking. I might stroke it, but never cause him that kind of discomfort. But while we're on the subject of corporal punishment….

It was allowed at S. Endellion School, the beatings. I was the jolly recipient several times, all but one administered by the Housemaster, an odious character called Peter Hickmott. What a complete C word. Conversation of any sort wasn't allowed after the dormitory light had been put out by the prefect on duty that night. Of course we did talk, quietly, and leave our beds too for undisclosed activity, if someone suggested a bit of naughtiness. The prefect would inevitably return at the wrong moment and enquire in a quiet menacing tone, which of us was talking. One or more had to 'own up', a painful but necessary demonstration of our honesty and integrity. To not 'own up' was considered very bad form and anti-social because the whole lot would probably suffer, on the theory that sometimes the innocent must suffer with the guilty. My hand went up along with a couple of others. I was the first to receive four strokes of the cane on my sensitive bottom, which hurt and left bright pink stripes which are always shown to the others on our return to the 'dorm'. It does hurt. Don't believe all that nonsense when they say 'this hurts me more than it hurts you Alexis'. No, it hurts me a lot more. I cried, I'm ashamed to say, and my dorm colleagues saw my tears as they anxiously waited their turn outside the C word's study. I desperately tried to wipe them away with the back of my hand. But they saw my tears of shame. The pain was so severe I had to cry. Back in my bed with my head buried in the pillow, I went on crying, hoping mummy would come and cuddle me to sleep. She didn't, but her pain would be far greater than mine had she witnessed such a barbaric act perpetrated on her child such, and the other boys . The stripes of honour remained for a few days until they finally faded. But there was another quite alarming element to all this, the sexual one. We would have to lower our pyjamas and present our bare buttocks to the C word. I think that was unusual. Or was it? There were quite a few seconds between presenting my bare bum before the axe fell, and after the four strokes had been delivered in a close, and therefore more painful grouping, I had to turn and face the C word. My small hairless cocklet was standing up proudly. I looked at him, the tears streaming down my face along with those sharp involuntary intakes of breath. I'm still not sure why I found a beating a sexual turn on. I certainly wouldn't now I'm quite sure! I think it had more to do with exposing myself naked. I do remember the hard-on developing before the beating, and by the time I presented myself, my small pecker poked through those very fitted pyjama bottoms in the most interesting way. Those new style 'bottoms' were a great improvement on the old things that had a white drawer string to do them up. These had elasticated waistbands and were very fitted in the groin area, and seldom replaced as boys grew. Thus their private parts were ever more obvious to the concerned observer of small boys' cocklets and balls. 'Well done Alex.' The C says with a smile after administering the blows that made that 'thwack' sound we had all heard from time to time as we waited outside the door. Some boys emerged looking unconcerned as if they took it in their stride, as a very ordinary thing. Some, like me, came out through the heavy mahogany door weeping copiously. The C word was looking down at my groin I'm sure, before he allowed me to pull up my pyjama bottoms. In my time there, I was beaten several times, but by the third year, boys were beaten through their pyjamas, at night time, and through their underpants if it was a daytime event.

I had been to the cinema that afternoon and been caught. I knew I was heading for another close encounter with the C word's cane. He made me stand in front of him as he lectured me, my trousers around my ankles. I thought about what I was about to endure. Any guesses? In the end he let me off, unable to inflict further pain upon my delicate and responsive personage. I was relieved as you might imagine, but somewhere in my strange psyche, slightly disappointed. It's odd what some boys find exciting. Once a boy asked me to enter one of the 'bogs' with him. I asked him why, hoping that he had a mutual tossing off session in mind. I was wrong. He wanted me to watch him defecate into a few sheets of bog roll directly into my hand. It was not my thing then, or now, at all. I did go in with him as he sat on the seatless lavatory pan, and stayed with him during the process. When he'd finished, I declined the offer to wipe his bottom, preferring instead to feel his penis. As he rose off the pan, all done now, his cock was already half hard so it was a simple task to add a second moment of joy to his first. He was a very ordinary looking first year with some odd ideas and quite a lot of watery semen stored up in his slight body. Freddie was his name. Meanwhile I'm standing in front of the C word in my pants and a swelling penis within. They were another 'find' from a cupboard in another junior dorm, and on the small size which rather gave the game away. Quite a lot of that happened, swapping, exchanging and stealing personal items. Just a few of us indulged in this sport and discussed it later in a friend's study.

'Who's are those Alex? Very nifty.' He says admiringly as I lower my trousers. I told him who my latest victim was, now short of one pair.

'Good grief. He's very lovely. They should be under lock and key. I must tell Matron.' The boy says. The owner of said garment was Lawson, a dark haired boy with the most wonderful smile, perfect legs in his tight short shorts that couldn't hide his underpinnings, and on a beauty pedestal far too high for the likes of a filthy sod like to even consider speaking to him.

You have to do something for fun in those places. And we did. At breakfast I could hardly look at Lawson R because I knew what I had left in his pants last night and again early that morning, now just another item to be reclaimed from the lost prop box of treasures.

It was around six thirty when I arrived at Duncan's granny's house in Truro, about a fifteen minutes journey from our place in the village of Poverty S. Erth. Granny let me in with her usual big smile and told me to go up to Duncan's room.

'So how did it go Dunks?'

'Ok thanks.'

'You look nice tonight. Are those new?'

'No. Old ones.'

'I meant underneath.'

'Yes. Can I show you?'

By all means. I'm sitting on the edge of his single bed and he's standing in front of me.

'How are feeling Duncan?'

'Right now?'

'Yes, right now.'

'Good thanks.'

'So that's how he's feeling, and I know that feeling very well. He's been stimulated, but not physically, by his meeting with Quintus.

'In the right mood then?'

He pulled the tee shirt up and over his head to leave me the lovely sight of his naked body.

'You didn't show bare that torso to Quintus did you? Tell me you didn't.'

Duncan laughs.

'Of course not!'

'But I would for me?'

'Yes. Because………'

'Because what Duncan?'

'Just……. because .'

Oh breathe on me , the breath of love, dear boy.

Deep feelings and thoughts are left unexplained for both of us. Perhaps Duncan and I, as we lay in our beds, separated by a few miles, were thinking the same thing at the same time.

'Can we lie down for a while Alex?'

'That would be lovely Duncan. Are you in a good mood?'

'Yes thanks.'

'The right mood?'

'Yes.'

'This morning?'

'No! I was waiting for you .'

So that's it. He offers me his hand so I naturally take it in mine. He looks at me with those eyes, and I know exactly what this means. I held him for ten minutes or so before my time was up. They were ten precious minutes with him, with some precious words spoken. Words of love. He wanted to show me something special, and he has. Yes, I had my hands on him, but not in that way I can assure you. He said how much it helped. I know how the hands of another can comfort and reassure. This has to be part of Duncan's journey, one that if his conversation with Quintus is to be believed, may have begun. It's going to be a short journey because I have an alternative plan for this paragon of virtue.

To be continued in another story. Duncan.

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Johnny Come Home

by Rafael Henry

Chapter 29