by Rafael Henry

Chapter 19

An admission, and the balance of power altered.

I don't suppose we'll ever manage it again, such perfect timing, magically synchronized like we were. If there ever is another time. As the blood drains and I'm my normal size again, or closer to it now, Robbie asks if he might see to the last rites, the removal from my body of the latex 'find' kindly left by some pleasure-seeking boy. After all, he put it there. I'm wondering if that boy ever came back to find what he'd forgotten in his haste. Or what his name is? Perhaps it was another boy he was with that afternoon on our grass and not a girl? Two boys wouldn't bother with one of those things. But for Robbie and I, one of those curious objects is a necessary evil on two counts. My pleasure and Robbie's too, will last longer, and there will be no evidence left behind in places best left pristine, to be noticed by a certain higher authority, looked for even.

Robbie carefully removes the transparent sheath, stainless, sans reservoir, snug sized and eminently suited to 'little boys' like us, containing all that I could muster for my lover boy, my physical and biological contribution to our passionate coming togetherness, with such meaningful words, loud words and loud sounds too; an erotic accompaniment which would have told the entire story from start to finish to anyone who happened to be listening either by accident of by design. Possibly the latter?

Robbie holds the object of his fascination up to the light for a thorough examination as I watch, amused and faintly surprised at my provision. 'Weird isn't it. It's warm Jon.' He says, holding it up as the milky viscous contents slowly descend to the bottom encouraged to do so by Rob's finger and thumb, as some is still determined to adhere to the sides.

'Not really.'

'Is it the same as mine; do you think?'

'Pretty much the same, apart from some important genetic differences I suppose.'

'What are you going to do with it now Jon?' 'Put it in a bin with the rest of the litter presumably. What about you now?'

An easier problem to solve. Robbie's skin feels warm on my roving tongue, and it tickles him, and makes him laugh.'

'You are such a sweet boy Robbie Madrigal, which is exactly why I love you.'

'Is that the only reason?'

'No. Just one of them.'

There's a pause as we look at each other again. There are thoughts in our heads, but no regrets; I hope. I want to be sure.

'How are you feeling Rob? I mean really feeling?'

'Fine thanks. Can we kiss again now?'

That's reassurance for me. No damage done, in fact the opposite. There will be more for him, and for me, and for whoever might be listening. Are we just performers for someone's pleasure? Surely not. There are no wires that run from the house to the Hut, at least none that you can see.

The Chaplain has asked to see me tonight. At six, immediately after Tea. He's usually there himself. What do I do now? Do I play dumb about the possibility of a listening device which may have been switched on during my session with Robbie, and who doesn't have any idea about it thank goodness. If it's true that what we are up to in the Hut is known to another, then it has to be just the two of us in the know; the listener and me. I can handle all of it I'm sure. And why? The answer to that question is blindingly obvious; if it's true.

I know that being the subject of photography, Lael found stimulating. Exciting even. I did too. He always wanted to take everything off, but if he did, I'd have to put the camera down soon after and fetch him the towel. Anything would get that boy going. Perhaps that explains the photo mum was sent by his family that got past the censor. It was just a little peek, that's all, but it sent a message to me as soon as I saw it. That's my boy. All of him. Audio is not the same as visual of course, but surely erotic enough for those with a modicum of imagination?

I'm dressed smartly in full uniform, although after Tea we can dispense with ties and blazers, and go off to various points for half an hour before going off to the homework rooms for prep. I feel oddly more adult tonight. I've put that down to the sex Rob and I had together so recently that I'm still all-of-a-tingle down there. But the sex is just the icing on the cake.

What matters is how we feel about each other when sex is not involved, which is ninety ninety-nine percent of the time. I loved Lael, but that's over. Robbie is for now, and I want, need, someone to care for and about me. And I want and need to be physical with him just as he does with me. I'm at that age now. As soon as boys learn how to do it, they are capable of a physical relationship with someone else, be it girl or boy. Those kids from the Comprehensive up the road are at it like rabbits because they like it. It's fun and deeply satisfying for those that need it, like us. In my arms he's warm and loving, and we know what's coming next. No matter how often, it's always new and fresh.

When I knock, not as hard as I intended, on the Chaplain's office door, there's an immediate response; 'Come', which always wrong foots me for some reason I'm not prepared to think about. I open the heavy mahogany door and there is Roger sitting, not as usual behind his massive kneehole desk, but in the upholstered chair to one side of the desk and close to the window. With one hand, he directs me to a simpler upright and very plain wooden chair next to him, placed almost in front of the one he sits in. I sit down, straight backed, my hands held together in my lap. I'm anxious about this summons. His first words, clearly enunciated, don't make me feel any better.

'I'm afraid what I have to say is not going to be easy for me Jon.'

Oh my goodness. My tummy turns a couple of somersaults.

'I'm afraid your privacy has been compromised Jon.' Then a short silence, a deep breath, and then….. 'and I'm responsible.'

'I don't understand Sir.' That was all I could think of by way of a response. Stalling basically.

'I've had my suspicions about Tim, my stepson Jon. He's made friends with your friend Otta. They have been using the Hut as well as you have, as you know. I needed to know about their conversations, plans and so on, if anything. I'm afraid you and Robert Madrigal have been caught in the cross-fire somewhat.'

A long pause. I'm trying to think of a response, so I can stall a bit longer.

'I'm not quite sure what you mean Sir. How could you know what was going on in the Hut Sir?'

'I can hear Jon. I can hear everything that happens in there. I'd rather not go into details just now.'

'Does that mean you've heard Robbie and I?'

'Yes Jon. I'm afraid I have. You must be very disturbed about this?'

'No Sir, I'm not. It's your place. We were invited to share it. I'm not upset Sir, really I'm not. But can I ask you exactly what you heard?'

'All your conversations Jon, all your movements. I'm so very sorry that I have entered your private life in this way. It's unforgiveable of me. I realize that it has given you power over me. This could very well ruin my career Jon. You are entitled to report all of this. I wouldn't blame you for a second if you did.'

Some quick thinking required. But I know one thing. I would never, not in a million years, say anything to anyone that would harm Roger. It wouldn't matter what he said, did, or wanted. I took me just a few seconds to work through what he had said to me.

'Sir, I really don't mind. Not at all. Please don't worry. Robert Madrigal will never know. I'm worried for you Sir; that you're thinking this way.'

'I'm afraid it is I that should be worrying Jon. I have come to know some things about myself; things I'm not proud of; difficult thoughts that are not consistent with my position here. And I realize that you are making every effort to understand the situation Jon, or seem to be?'

'I do understand Sir. Please will you not worry? You've been very kind to me for a long time now. Our meetings have been a huge support to me. It doesn't matter. Not to me. Whatever happens won't matter. Nothing will change will it Sir? I don't want anything to change. I want everything to go along just as it is now. Is that possible? Please? If there's any way I can help?'

Without a thought, I stood up and took the two steps towards Roger. The conversation has stirred something inside me. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it was a surge of power. Yes, it's the empowerment of this situation. Suddenly I have this strange feeling of control. I've felt it with Robbie too when he's plays that game; calling me Sir. He's giving me power over him. It's very strange isn't it? Being in the ascendancy like this?

I'm standing next to Roger now, my hand on his as a gesture of something I'm not really understanding. I do like the man very much, and I've begun to see Roger in a different light. A very different light. As I remember the sounds we made, the sound of our loving together, Robbie and I, a subtle arousal has begun in me. It's nothing to do with Roger. It's the remembering. When I look down anxious that nothing is showing, Roger does too, at what I'm feeling about my body.

It's shows now. I thought it would do and it does. I'm not ashamed of how I feel, and in a strange sort of way, I want Roger to know. He can see it for himself now. This can happen to boys for no reason, so we are told, and it does, anywhere. Roger turns his palm upwards and mine naturally enough lands on top of his. He squeezes it gently. It's warm and comforting. I look down again, and then back at Roger's face as his eyes follow mine down again. There's the faintest of smiles.

'You are indeed a very kind boy Jon. You may remember that I have something of yours. I should give them back now. Images are very powerful Jon.'

'I suppose pictures go with the words and the sounds; and everything. Do they Sir?' 'Yes they do. A complete picture. That's what it would be if that boy could speak to us now, and a very beautiful picture he is, if that's possible. What do you think Jon? And no more 'Sirs' please? I think we should talk like friends now?'

I'm shocked at his familiarity but I think all things are possible, and I might have more to offer Roger.

'I'm sure I can help. Can we talk some more please?'

'Some things we cannot talk about Jon; things that have to remain nameless. Not spoken of. Hidden away. Not seen. Never mentioned. I find myself in this position. I cannot help my thoughts. They are there and they persist. We should not have secrets Jon, but it appears that we might be sharing one. Is this something you can bear? Something that you can take on your shoulders? But I have to ask you how you found me out Jon?'

'In the space under the bed in the Hut. I didn't know what it was to start with, then I found out later. Otta told me where he had hidden his things so Teniel would stop teasing him. A tiny red light came on. Then I knew what it was.'

'But you carried on? It didn't stop you?'

'No. We would never have stopped because of that. Robbie has no idea, but I had put two and two together by that time. I knew. I was excited.'


'Yes. I wanted to share everything, whoever it was.'

'Even with me Jon?'

'Yes. If it was you. I thought it must be you. Who else would have access any time they wanted, and when the boys were not about. It had to be you.'

I can feel the warmth of Roger's hands as I stand closer to him now. The doubt has gone now; now I know.

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