The White Rat – Chapter Eighteen

The White Rat – Chapter Eighteen

In this chapter we’ll see what happens when Stephens and Baker get together out in the woods. And, of course, we’ll also find out whether David’s female impersonation is successful, and what the party in Gloucester actually leads to…

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For the second week running, Joe climbed into the attic quite early on the Saturday morning, and this time David was asleep right up to the moment when Joe lay down beside him, pushing him to one side of the mattress.

“What’s the time?” he asked, blearily. “Is it time to get up?”

“Nope. I just thought you’d like me to come and keep you company for a bit.”

“Why?”

“Why not? I like being up here with you, knowing I can do whatever I want to you. It makes me feel good.”

“Good for you. Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’ll make you have sex first. I mean, you need all the practice you can get if you’re going to be able to cope with Benny next Friday.”

“Look, Joe… can’t you talk him out of it? I don’t think that thing of his will be able to go in, and it’ll hurt like hell if he tries.”

“It wouldn’t be fair not to let him have a go at it, would it? I mean, all the rest of us are going to have done it, so Benny should be allowed to as well. Sorry, Gerbil, you’re going to have to get a sore arse.”

“Please? I’ll even let him… you know, put it in my mouth instead. That’s horrible, but at least it doesn’t hurt.”

“Aha! Gerbil wants to suck Benny! I bet he’ll laugh when I tell him…”

“Don’t, Joe, please? You now how much I hate all this stuff...”

“That’s what makes it such fun. Still… if you ask me nicely, I won’t fuck you this morning.”

“Okay: please, Joe, don’t fuck me – I hate it when you do that.”

“Good enough,” said Joe. “It’s fun making you beg. And you’re getting better at it, too: that time you actually sounded as if you meant to be polite, instead of sounding like you wanted to murder me and could barely hide it. Perhaps in the end we can make you into a nice person after all Bet it takes ages, though… okay, let’s go to sleep, then.” And he pulled the sleeping bag up over his shoulders and settled down, and David relaxed and fell asleep himself.

Once again he woke up first. Today Joe was cuddled up against him, with his arm around David’s waist, still breathing steadily – and once again David found himself thinking how much better it was when the little sod was unconscious: he felt he could almost like the boy, as long as he stayed asleep…

Their faces were only a few inches apart, so he only had to say “Hey, Joe,” in a quiet voice to make the other boy stir, and repeating it a little louder got Joe to open his eyes.

“Wow, you really fancy me!” commented Joe. “You don’t have to get quite so close, you know. I might catch something.”

“You’re the one who’s too close,” David told him. “I’m right against the wall. And it’s your arm round me, not the other way around.”

“True. Perhaps I don’t hate you as much when you’re asleep, then.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”

Joe grinned at him. “Well, now we’re awake, so we can start hating each other again. So, how can I make you hate me most? I know… I’m all hard, so you can suck it for me.”

“Oh, God, Joe, do I have to?”

“No, if you prefer I’ll ram it up your arse. But I’m in a good mood, so you can choose.”

“But I hate both ways!”

“I know, but you’re going to have to do it one way or the other – unless you want me to go and get Tim. Then you can do us both at once, one at each end.”

“No! I’ll do it… if it’s really up to me, I’ll suck it. At least doing that doesn’t make me feel like a girl.”

“Perhaps I should fuck you, then, because you’re going to have to act like a girl for hours this evening. Maybe it would get you in the mood.”

“I don’t want to get in the mood,” said David. “It’s never going to work – someone’s bound to be able to tell I’m not a girl, and then I’ll get beaten up or something.”

“Then you’d better do your best to make sure nobody can tell you’re not a girl, hadn’t you? Now get on with sucking it, or I really will ram it in you.”

David wriggled down under the cover and found that Joe was naked again, his penis jutting up stiffly. He took a deep breath: this was still a totally disgusting thing to have to do, but at least there was no audience here, and Joe didn’t have any of that filthy muck to shoot out into his mouth and make him want to puke…

He slid Joe’s hard organ into his mouth and began to suck on it the way Osterley had taught him, and soon Joe was wriggling about and pulling David’s head against his body. David just wanted to get this over with, so he started using his hands a bit, the way he had with Benedict, and Joe seemed to like that. Really quickly the younger boy reached the point of no return, gasping as it happened to him.

David kept the organ in his mouth until it was over and then wriggled back up to lie beside Joe again, resisting the urge to spit.

“Nice job, Gerbil,” Joe told him. “You’re getting really good at that: it feels better every time you do it. Keep practising: you’ll be a real expert by the summer holidays, then maybe I can get all my mates from school round and charge them ten pence each to have you suck them. They’ll really like it if you do it like that, and they’ll keep coming back for more, and I’ll get rich… I wonder how many cocks you can suck in one day… We’ll have to send your photo to the Guinness Book of Records!”

He grinned at David, rolled off the mattress and ran to the hatch.

“Come on,” he said, pausing at the top of the ladder, “it’s nearly time for breakfast!” And he disappeared down the ladder.

John Baker got off the bus at the stop Jordan had told him to use and found the first-year boy sitting on the bench in the bus-shelter waiting for him.

“Now… you’re sure this is going to be okay?” he asked. “He’s not suddenly going to turn into Mr Hyde and start strangling me or something, is he?”

“I told you, he’s not like that. In fact, if you said you wanted to strangle him, he’d probably let you… well, maybe not, but he’s okay, anyway. Come on, or we’ll be late, and I don’t want him to think we’re not coming.”

Stephens was waiting for them at their original meeting place, and he still seemed a bit unsure of himself, stammering out a greeting and not looking Baker in the eye.

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Nigel,” said Jordan, “stop acting like this is your first date… though I suppose maybe it is… anyway, just act normal, like you did with me last time we were here. Let’s go to that clearing we found last time. It was nice there.”

So he led them to the stream and along it as far as the little clearing.

“Now,” he said, “I want you both to strip naked and give me all your clothes. Nigel, I think it would be nice if you told John how we first met, and why you’ve been doing what I tell you ever since. John, maybe you should tell Nigel what you were doing the first time I saw you, and what happened to you afterwards. That way you’ll both see how much you’ve got in common. I’ve brought along a few bits and pieces for you to show each other, and once you’ve got your clothes off I’ll swap them for what you’re wearing.”

They looked at each other uncertainly, but then Baker shrugged and started to undress, and that was enough to get Nigel moving. Jordan stood and watched them as they got undressed, collecting their clothes and putting them into his bag.

They both hesitated when they got down to their pants, but then Baker took a deep breath and pulled his off, and Stephens did the same, and they stood and looked at each other… and Stephens started to get an erection.

“Well, part of you is obviously glad I’m here,” commented Baker, grinning.

“Sorry,” said Nigel, looking even more flustered. “I just can’t help it…”

“Don’t worry, you look nice like that.”

“Really? I mean, you’re not just saying that?”

“No, it looks good. And you’ve got nice balls, too…”

“I’ll leave you two get to know each other, then,” said Jordan, collecting their underwear. “Nigel, you can talk to John about these,” and he handed the older boy the chain and padlock, with the key in the lock, and his porn magazine. “John, here’s a little something for you to talk about,” and he handed Baker a short length of pink ribbon. Then he picked up his bag. “I won’t be far away – call if you need me,” he said. “Or I’ll come back in about an hour, just to make sure you haven’t murdered each other in the meantime.”

He walked off, went a hundred yards or so downstream and sat down on the bank to watch the stream flowing past. For a moment he wished he’d invited Jeremy to come with him: that way he’d have someone to talk to – and maybe to do other things with… but he thought that, while Jeremy would probably like to get undressed outdoors, he might not want to do it with other people around – or not yet, anyway. Perhaps once they’d got used to playing sex games outdoors he’d be happy to join in – and then maybe the four of them could have a proper orgy or something…

Once he had gone, Baker sat down cross-legged, and Nigel sat down opposite him.

“So,” he said, “what happened to you? How did Jordan find out that… you know, that you like boys?”

“You go first,” invited Baker. “You’re older than me. Age before beauty.”

Nigel grinned at him. “I’d say we could toss for it, but Jordan’s taken everything, including my money. But…”

He took the little key out of his padlock and showed it to Baker, then put both hands behind his back for a moment before bringing them out in front of him. He presented the two closed fists to Baker.

“Guess the hand with the key in, and I’ll go first,” he said. “Get it wrong, and you go first.”

“Fair enough. That one,” said Baker, pointing at Nigel’s left hand. Nigel opened his hand and showed him that the key was indeed in that hand.

“Okay,” said Nigel. “Well… God, this is going to be embarrassing… see, sometimes I used to come out here into the woods and take all my clothes off – it’s sort of nice when it’s hot, having nothing on – and sometimes I’d… well… you know… I’d… sort of play with myself.”

“That’s okay, I do that, too. Carry on.”

“Well, one Saturday last term I was out here – where I was waiting for you this morning, in fact. I’d taken all my clothes off, and I was… you, know, doing that. I was fantasising about a boy in this magazine,” and he handed the magazine to Baker, who took it with interest: he’d seen girly mags before, but never one with naked boys in.

“It’s the one on Page Seven, at the top,” Nigel went on. “I had my eyes closed, and I was thinking about Nils – that’s the boy’s name – rubbing it for me, and… well, that’s when Jordan caught me.”

“He’s nice, isn’t he?” said Baker, looking at the picture.

“If you had blond hair I think you’d look a bit like that,” said Nigel.

“No, I wouldn’t – he’s miles better looking than me!”

“I don’t think so. Anyway, I was lying there doing it, and Jordan suddenly appeared. He grabbed the magazine, my shoes and my pants and jumped into the middle of a bramble-bush, where I couldn’t get at him without being torn to pieces. And he said if I didn’t do exactly what he told me, he’d take the magazine and my pants to Garrett and use them to get me expelled. And I believed he would, so… so I did what he told me to.”

“What was that?”

“Well… I had to tell him all about myself. And he made me admit that I really like playing with myself, and that I do it all the time, almost every day… and he said he had a way to stop me.”

“He said he’d report you to Garrett if you didn’t stop?”

“No, far worse than that. Look, I’ll show you.”

He picked up the chain and made a loop in it.

“This won’t really work properly on me at the moment, because I’m already stiff, so it would be better if you tried it. Put the loop over your cock and balls, pull it as tight as you can stand and then put the lock through the link next to the loop to keep it closed. Then try making yourself hard and see what it feels like.”

Fascinated, Baker took the chain and put it round his genitals, wincing as he tightened it and putting the padlock into place. Then he picked up the magazine again and started browsing, and pretty soon things started to happen – and immediately he got the point of the chain.

“Oh, shit, that hurts!” he exclaimed, trying to get the key back into the lock.

“Leave it for half a minute,” said Nigel. “That’ll give you a proper idea.”

Baker managed to hold out, grimacing, for half a minute, but then he opened the padlock and removed the chain as fast as he could.

“Jordan put that on me and said that if I didn’t do exactly what he told me he’d throw away the key,” Nigel told him.

“Bloody hell! How long did he make you keep it on?”

“Well, it’s been about seven weeks so far. He let me take it off last week to do my exams, but he’s going to put it back on once the exams are finished.”

“Seven weeks?!!! And you’re going to let him put it back on again? You must be out of your mind!”

“I’ve sworn to let him do it,” Nigel said. “And he’s got a full confession from me, and if I don’t let him chain me up again he’s going to spread it all over the school.”

“I bet he doesn’t. I reckon Fielding’s okay, basically. I don’t think he’d drop you in it like that.”

“Actually, neither do I, but I’ve promised, anyway.”

“But… God, Stephens, that must kill you! How do you manage to sleep at nights with that digging into you?”

“Well, I couldn’t, not at first. I had to take aspirin and stuff to get to sleep. But it got a bit easier, and after a bit I didn’t go hard quite so much, either. But it’s been hard almost all the time since the chain came off, and I’m not allowed to rub it, either, because I swore I wouldn’t. And I haven’t, so far, which I’m sort of proud of. I was doing it two or three times a day two months ago.”

“Bloody hell! I’m glad he didn’t do that to me. All I had to wear was this.” And he showed Nigel the pink ribbon. He told him the whole story, truthfully and with no omissions, admitting that it had been his idea for him and Larkin to go to the old toilet block by school house and owning up to what he had felt about it. He told Nigel about having to wear the ribbon, and how Jordan had more or less let him off because he took his punishment without whining or trying to get out of it.

“And we’ve been sort of friends since,” he finished. “We both do sex stuff to Larkin together, and it’s been good fun. He didn’t tell me any of that about you, though – he just said he knew someone who might want to… well… do some sex stuff with me.”

“And I didn’t even know your name until he introduced us this week. And that proves we can trust him, I think, because he had me completely helpless while the chain was on, and he could have forced me to strip off at school or run round the yard naked, or anything. And he could have told loads of people about me, but it’s been obvious that nobody knows or I’d have been torn to shreds at school, which I wasn’t. He’s kept his word perfectly. So… well, if we did decide to… you know, do stuff together, I reckon we could trust him completely to keep it to himself.”

“Me, too. So… are we going to ‘do stuff together’, then?”

“Well… yes, I’d like that.”

“So would I. So what would you like to do first?”

“Oh! Well... I'd like to.... well, just touch you – if that's okay?”

“I should think so,” agreed Baker, standing up. His penis hadn't yet gone back down, and when he stood up it stuck out straight in front of him.

“Gosh, you do look big like that,” said Nigel. “I'm sure you're bigger than me.”

“Well, come here and we'll find out.”

So Nigel stood up and approached him a little nervously, and Baker gently took hold of Nigel's erection and held it alongside his own.

“I'd say I'm about a quarter inch or so longer,” said Baker. “But your balls are a bit bigger and you've got loads more hair than me.”

“Yours looks nice,” said Nigel, cautiously reaching out as if he expected Baker to shout 'Stop!' at any moment. But Baker didn't say anything, and Nigel took hold of the other boy's hard penis and stroked it gently.

“That feels nice,” said Baker. “You can keep doing that if you want.”

So Nigel stroked it for a few seconds, and then, growing in confidence, he started to run his hands slowly all down the other boy's body, caressing his chest, back and bum and stoking his arms and legs. He dropped to his knees to allow himself to run his hands right down Baker's legs, and that left his head in exactly the right place...

“Would... would you like me to suck on it for you?” he asked, hesitantly.

“Yes, please,” said Baker, with no hesitation at all.

So carefully Nigel slid the stiff member into his mouth and began to suck it in the way that Jordan had taught him.

“Wait a moment,” said Baker, after a couple of minutes. “I’ll lie down on my back. That'll be more comfortable for both of us.””

So they rearranged themselves on the ground and then Nigel carried on sucking, and before too long Baker underwent a brilliant orgasm.

“God, you're good at that,” he said. “That was bloody amazing – thanks, Nigel.”

“That’s okay, I liked doing it for you. I think yours is really nice. I won't mind doing that whenever you want.”

“Brilliant,” said Baker happily: he thought this arrangement was definitely going to work out. And... why not, he thought.

“So, would you like me to do that to you?” he asked.

“Wow, yes! But... look, John... I mean... you don't have to. Just because I did it for you, it doesn't mean that you have to do it for me. You don't have to if you don't want to.”

“I want to. This time, anyway, just to see what happens. I mean, I should think you'll have quite a bit of spunk, won't you?”

“Well, yes, especially since I haven't touched myself since last weekend.”

“Then I'll get to find out what yours tastes like. I hope it's nice... lie on your back, then.”

So they swapped places and Baker started to suck. He wasn't all that experienced: Jordan had made him do it for him once, and he'd been made to do it for three boys at the end-of-term dinner, but he didn't know much more about it than Nigel, whose own experience before today was limited to doing it with Jordan a couple of times. Still, Nigel seemed to enjoy it, and it wasn't long before he was starting to wriggle about.

“Tell me when it's about to happen,” said Baker, pausing briefly.

“Okay. But... please don't stop.”

“I won't.” And Baker got on with it again, and Nigel – who of course had never experienced this before – was soon aware that that he was on the brink.

“I'm nearly there, John,” he gasped. “It's happening – yes – aaah... aahhhhh... yesss!!!”

Baker wasn't entirely prepared for the amount – there must have been five or six spurts – but it didn't taste bad, and he was able to spit most of it out as soon as Nigel's now soft penis had slipped out of his mouth. But he did swallow a little, just to see how that would feel, and it didn't give him any problem.

“That wasn't too nasty, was it?” asked Nigel, anxiously.

“No, it was okay. And you don't taste bad, either.”

“Good. I was a bit worried... thanks, John. That was the first time I ever had that done, and it was really nice.”

“Great. So, what do we do now?”

“Well... could we just cuddle for a bit, until we feel ready for something else? Only I need a bit of a rest now.”

“Cuddle?”

“Only if you don't mind, of course,” said Nigel, hastily. “But it's nice – at least, it was when I did it with Jordan.”

“Well, I'll give it a try. What do we do?”

“Well, I stay lying here on my back, and you lie down on top of me facing me, and then we just relax.”

And when Jordan came back a short while later, that's how he found them, with their arms round each other and talking happily.

“Looks like you're getting on okay with each other,” he said. “I'll be off, then. See you both at school.”

And he put their clothes down beside them and then walked away and left them to it.

After lunch David and the three Devlin children caught the bus into Cheltenham and made their way to the Devlin's house. Molly's friend Rosie and her older sister Carol had arranged to meet them there, and Carol, with a certain amount of help from Rosie and Molly, spent an hour or so with David teaching him the basics of make-up. She'd been told that David was doing this for a bet, as that had seemed an easier explanation than the real one, and so she treated him with rather more respect than Molly and Rosie had the previous week.

By the time she had finished her instruction David was capable of applying his own lipstick and at least touching up everything else, though Carol advised him that he wouldn't need a lot of make-up in the first place.

“If you overdo it, you'll look like a tart,” she said. “You're pretty enough not to need a lot... okay, maybe you don't want to be called 'pretty', but you are, sort of... so keep it light. Rosie says your hair looks best brushed back, so I'll see if I can sort that out for you next, and then you can try on the clothes I've found for you...”

She'd found him some quite nice clothes, including a training bra that had been padded out a little, and once the blouse went on over the top of it nobody would have guessed that his contours weren't genuine.

Michael Stagg and his brother arrived about tea-time, and so did Mark Sherwood, who lived a couple of houses away from the Staggs and wanted to see how David looked. And all three of them were impressed.

“God, Villiers-Gore, you look bloody amazing!” said Michael. “There's absolutely no way anyone's going to guess you're really a boy!”

“He isn't,” said Joe, grinning. “Not a proper one, anyway.”

“Shut up, Joe,” said David. “Look, Stagg, do we really have to do this? I don't care what you say, I still reckon someone's going to see through me before we've been there five minutes.”

“No, they won't,” said Michael. “If I thought there was any risk of that I wouldn't take you, but you look perfect. What do the rest of you reckon?”

“He looks really sweet,” said Sherwood, grinning. “Perhaps we should make him come to school like that, complete with the make-up...”

“If he buggers this up tonight, we will,” said Tim. “So you'd better try really hard to persuade everyone you're a girl, Gerbil, or next week you'll be going to school exactly like you are now.”

Michael and David walked to the bus station and caught the bus to Gloucester, sitting together towards the back of what was a fairly empty bus, so there was nobody close enough to listen to what they were saying to each other.

“Can you dance?” asked Michael.

“No! Oh, God... I suppose we're going to have to dance together, too!”

“I should think so. Look, it's okay, I'm no good at dancing, either. Normally at parties I just stand around near the door with a drink in my hand... oh, and for God's sake, don't get drunk! You'd be sure to let something slip... and if you need to pee, remember to head for the girls' toilets, too...”

“Don't worry – I'm even more worried about this than you. You can bet I'll be bloody careful all evening... look, how long do we have to stay?”

“A couple of hours should be enough – we can tell them we have to catch the last bus home, which will be true enough. Actually, now I've seen you, I'm nothing like as worried as I was – like I said, you look amazing.”

And that seemed to be the general opinion when they reached the church hall where Michael's friend was holding his fifteenth birthday party, too: their host took one look at David and his jaw dropped.

“Wow, Mikey,” he said, “why didn't you tell me you'd found a proper girlfriend at last?”

“Wanted to surprise you,” he said.

“Well, you did that okay. What's your name?” he asked David.

That was a nasty shock: they hadn't even thought about the need for a suitable name. He certainly wasn't going to answer to 'Daisy', which was what Michael had called him before.

“Valerie,” said Michael, whose brain was working a little faster. “Valerie Gore. Val, this is Simon. Like I told you, we've been friends since primary school.”

“Hello, Val,” said Simon. “What on earth are you doing going out with this loser?”

David thought about that for a moment. He briefly considered answering more or less truthfully by saying that he was being coerced into being here, but then he thought that, lower-class peasant though Michael was, he was still a lot less obnoxious than Simon seemed to be at first glance. So he said, “He's alright, really. Most people just look at him and see his hair, but once you get to know him he's got a really nice personality.”

Which of course was a polite way of saying that he was ugly, but he thought maybe neither of them would realise that, and Simon, at least, didn't seem to.

“You're a lucky bastard, Mikey,” he said. “I can't believe a beautiful girl like this would actually agree to go out with an ugly git like you. You must be paying her, or something.”

“He isn't,” said David. “I'm here of my own free will,” and he hooked his arm round Michael's, towed him out of earshot, and added, “more or less,” in a whisper.

“Thanks,” said Michael. “That's sorted him out for all the snide remarks he's given me.”

They went and found the drinks table, which was entirely non-alcoholic, and had a Coke each. The party began to get going: they danced with each other a couple of times, making no more of a hash of it than any of the other couples. A little later David went to the toilet (remembering to use the right one) and repaired his lipstick, and then had to survive what might have been a tricky moment when a couple of girls came in and started talking to him. But it was obvious that they didn't suspect, and in fact they were friendly, whispering to him that there were a couple of bottles of cider in a cupboard behind the cloakroom, and he thought it would be no bad idea to have a glass or two, provided he was careful not to overdo it.

The glass or two relaxed him enough that he actually began to enjoy himself a little. After a bit Simon cornered him and asked for a dance, and even when a slow number came on David didn't run away, allowing the birthday boy to hold him close as they swayed to the music. And a minute or two into the dance Simon accidentally got a bit too close, and David could feel that he had an erection.

He was hard-pressed not to burst out laughing, wondering how Simon would react if he found out he was getting hard through dancing with a boy, but he managed to keep a straight face.

“I still don't understand why you would want to go out with Mikey,” said Simon. “Doesn't that bright red hair put you off?”

“No, I think it looks good,” said David. He hesitated, but the cider had done its job, and so mischievously he continued, “and it looks absolutely brilliant round his balls, too. There aren't any freckles there, though.”

Simon's jaw dropped.

“What, you mean... what, you... you've actually... done it with him?”

“Well, not all the way. Actually, I'd never done anything with a boy before, but Mikey's so nice I thought it might be fun to see what he looks like down there – I didn't know if his hair would be the same colour or not. But it is, and when you get really close, like I did when I was sucking him, it sort of shines like gold.”

That had the desired effect, too: Simon was so shocked he stopped dancing and just stared at him.

“You haven't!” he gasped, in disbelief.

“Yes, I have. Only once so far, but I'm sure we'll do it again. I wasn't really sure about it, to be honest, because I'd never done it before, but he liked it so much – and his stuff tasted so nice, and there was so much of it, too – that I'm sure we'll do it again. I'm sure you know for yourself how nice it feels.”

“Oh! Well.... yes, of course,” said Simon, blatantly lying. “But... I wouldn't mind if you wanted to show me how you do it.”

“Certainly not! I'd never do that for anyone except Michael!” And David flounced off, feeling thoroughly pleased with himself.

By the time Michael came and said that they ought to be going, David had had another couple of ciders and was enjoying himself no end, loving the feeling of being able to pull the wool over everyone's eyes. He drew Michael off to one side, stood where he was sure Simon could see them, and then kissed Michael on the lips. It took Michael a moment to react, but then he returned the kiss, and when they came up for air a few seconds later David whispered “Look at Simon's face,” to him.

Michael turned round and saw Simon staring at him, almost green with envy. He took David's arm and led him over to their host.

“We've got to go,” he said. “It's been a brilliant party, Si – thanks for asking me. Bye!”

“Bye, Simon,” added David. “It was fun. I enjoyed dancing with you, too.”

They walked to the bus station.

“Thanks, Villiers-Gore,” said Michael. “That went brilliantly. I bet he doesn't tease me about not having a girlfriend again.”

“That's okay. It was sort of fun, actually. And you were right about nobody guessing. Simon certainly didn't – he got a stiffie when I was dancing with him.”

That made Michael burst out laughing, and when David added that he'd told Simon about sucking Michael off, he laughed even more.

“God, he'll die of jealousy,” he said. “I bet he's never even had a girl touch him, far less suck him. That's brilliant....”

They got on the bus and rode most of the way back to Cheltenham in silence.

“Look, Villiers-Gore... you've been brilliant tonight,” said Michael, as the bus entered Cheltenham. “I know we more or less made you do this, but you could have easily messed things up for me if you'd wanted. Why didn't you?”

“Well.... obviously I didn't want anyone at the party knowing I'm a boy, so I wasn't going to do anything that might make them wonder. But apart from that... I don't know, really. I suppose I looked at you and then looked at Simon and decided I liked you more. You're okay, really, and I can remember when I first came to KEV that everyone used to take the piss out of your hair, the same way they did out of mine. I mean, it's about all we've got in common, but still...”

“Well, thanks, anyway. Look... I know you've been getting a hard time lately, both at school and at home. If I'm honest I'd have to say that I reckoned you deserved it, especially considering the way you used to get kids into trouble all the time... but, I don't know, maybe it's going a bit too far now. And I owe you for tonight. There's nothing I can do about what's happening to you, but... well... if you like, you can come round to my house after school one evening a week and sleep over. That would at least give you one night a week when nobody was beating you up, or anything.”

David stared at him. “Seriously?” he asked. “What would I have to do to get that – suck your cock every day, or something?”

“No, nothing like that. I mean, I really liked it when you sucked me, but I'm not going to make you do it again if you don't want. No, you could just come round to my house, we could do our homework together, and then watch TV or something. We'd be equals. I wouldn't make you do anything. Okay?”

“Well... yes, then, I'd like that. Obviously. But I'm not sure the Devlins would allow it.”

“We'll tell them I want to whip you, or do sex stuff to you all night, or something. They won't mind you being away from home if they think you're being punished.”

“Okay,” said David. He knew that Michael lived on the council estate, and so was basically just a peasant, but this was still an offer he couldn't possibly refuse. So when he got home he told Tim that Michael had so enjoyed having a girlfriend that he wanted him to go and stay overnight with him every week, so that he could do all the other stuff you normally do with girls. And once Tim and spoken to Michael about it the following Monday he was quite happy for the arrangement to go ahead.

“Wednesdays,” Tim told him. “You go round to Michael's house after school every Wednesday, and while you're there you do exactly what he tells you, okay? Because if you don't we'll beat the shit out of you.”

But before Wednesday evening came round David had to get through two more days of hell. He'd survived break with 2B on the Monday – Dhif hadn't actually taken part in the mass molestation, but he had sat and smirked while his class-mates played with David's genitals, making him hard and taunting him. But at least nobody had fucked him. But on the Tuesday it was 1C's turn, and while Jordan had done his best to distract his form-mates by stripping Larkin off and beating him at the start of break, quite a few were only too keen to take advantage of the Rat for a change. Harwood and one other boy tried fucking him, but without success, and then he was beaten with Harwood's belt until he was crying. Once again Osterley had to help him back to the music block to get changed afterwards.

The lunch break was no fun, either: today Osterley pushed his cock up David's arse as before, but then simply lay on top of him without moving.

“Now you can start sucking the others,” Osterley told him, “and you can keep doing it until I get excited. So if you want to be finished before the end of break you're going to have to give me the feeling without my help.”

So David had to try wriggling and squeezing and doing everything he could to make Osterley excited while at the same time sucking Little Collins and the first-years, one after the other. Eventually he found a technique of clenching and relaxing his muscles that did the job, but it took almost a quarter of an hour to do it.

“That was pretty good, Rat,” said Osterley. “I enjoyed that. You can do it like that again tomorrow. Of course, you might not be able to do anything tomorrow: you've got 2C at break again, and I know Pope's looking forward to seeing you.”

After school David walked round to the Devlins' house with Sherwood and the Stagg brothers. Michael didn't say a lot, but Julian pointed out that he still hadn't been sucked, and that David certainly owed him one.

“I won't be able to do it tonight,” said David. “I'm sure there'll be loads of housework waiting for me.”

“If you don't do it tonight, you'll have to do it tomorrow,” said Julian, firmly. “You've done it for everyone else, and I want my turn.”

And of course when the matter was raised with Tim, Tim said that of course David would have time to suck Julian before starting on his housework. So as soon as he had undressed David was pushed to his knees in front of the armchair, and Julian removed his shorts and pants and came and sat in front of him, his small erection quivering. It wasn't a lot bigger than David's own, and it took quite a while to make him excited, too, but eventually David was able to make it happen, and the first-year boy's reaction was much the same as his brother's had been.

“Blimey, Mikey, now I know why you liked that so much,” he said. “Its magic, isn't it? I'm definitely going to make him do that again.”

David had barely stood up when the door opened and George and Roger came in.

“Oh, good, he's here,” said George. “Well, don't just stand there, Gerbil: you have to come and kiss our feet, remember?”

The rest of that evening was no fun at all for David: the Staggs and Sherwood went home, but George and Roger took him up to the boys' bedroom, beat him and made him suck them both, twice each, and that left him with hardly any time for cleaning the house. He cried most of the way home, drawing absolutely no sympathy from the Devlins.

And Wednesday break was every bit as bad as he had feared: Pope had him stripped naked almost as soon as he was inside the classroom, and by the end of break he had been gang-fucked by five of Pope's friends. And this time, those who had been worried about getting into trouble last time were happy to join in the abuse, since nothing had happened the previous week, suggesting that they really could get away with doing this.

David limped into the first class after break still crying a little. He sat down gingerly, and was surprised when Michael Stagg came and sat next to him: normally nobody wanted to sit next to him, and as there was an odd number of boys in the form, usually the place next to him remained vacant.

“Bad one?” asked Michael, in a low voice.

David nodded, and to his even greater surprise Michael took his hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

“At least you'll get a quiet evening tonight,” he said, and then let go of David's hand and got his books out ready for the lesson.

Just that one moment of sympathy got David through to lunch time, and then he got another surprise when Osterley said that he thought David's arse had taken enough of a pounding for one day.

“I'll fuck you again tomorrow,” he said. “All you have to do now is suck Lithgow and Downing, because they didn't get a turn yesterday, and then we'll let you go for the day.”

He still didn't enjoy having to suck the two first-years, of course, but this was a hell of a lot better than the way he'd spent break. And after school, though he was still a bit suspicious of the way Michael was being nice to him, he went to the Staggs' house. Michael took him up to his bedroom, and at first David thought his suspicions were going to be well-founded, because Michael immediately told him to get undressed, but as soon as the female uniform was off Michael handed him a shirt and a pair of his own trousers.

“These will be a bit long on you, but at least you won't have to go through the evening dressed as a girl,” he said. “If they're really too long you can borrow a pair of Julian's shorts, but I suppose you'd prefer longs if possible.”

They were a bit long, but by rolling up the legs a little they were manageable, and the shirt wasn't a bad fit, and even though he didn't have any pants on underneath the trousers, David immediately felt a whole lot better once he was wearing boys clothes again.

“Now, Mum gets home in about an hour,” said Michael, “and we usually try to get our homework done before supper if we can, because then we can watch telly in peace. Is that okay with you?”

David nodded, so they sat down and helped each other through their homework. This was something David had never done before: he'd been quite happy without friends, but he realised now that it was nice to have someone to work things out with if he didn't actually know the answers.

David was introduced to Michael's parents as “a friend from school” (and Julian's snort of laughter was successfully disguised as a cough). He was polite to them, ate (and actually quite enjoyed) supper, and then sat and watched TV with them all, which of course was something he had not been able to do for a long time at home.

At bedtime Michael took David back up to his room.

“Now, there are three ways we can do this,” he said. “One: you sleep in the sleeping bag on the carpet and I have the bed. Two: you get the bed, I get the bag. Three: we share the bed. Frankly, that would be best, because the floor's pretty hard, but it's up to you.”

David looked at him doubtfully.

“Don't you think you can trust me by now?” asked Michael, seeing that look.

David wasn't used to trusting anyone, especially not the lower orders, but he had to admit that Michael had played entirely fair with him so far. And the floor did look hard...

“Okay, we'll share,” he said.

“Good. I don't suppose you've got any pyjamas with you, have you? No, I thought not. Well, when the weather's warm, like it is right now, I usually only wear a pair of shorts in bed. I'll find you a pair, too, if that's okay?”

“Really? Thanks... I mean, I'm not usually allowed to wear anything in bed.”

“Well, I don't mind if you want to sleep naked. I used to myself in the summer...”

“No, I'll take the shorts, thanks, if it's okay with you.”

So Michael undressed and put on a pair of gym shorts, and he handed David a pair of rugby shorts, and once they were ready they got into bed and Michael turned the light out.

“You feeling better now?” Michael asked him.

“Yes, thanks, loads better.”

“So what happened to you at break, then?”

“Well...” David didn't want to talk about it, but he was pretty sure that if he didn't answer the question, Michael would be able to find out simply by asking Sherwood.

“Okay, I got fucked,” he went on. “By five different kids in 2C, one after the other.”

“Shit! No wonder you looked so bloody awful at the start of French, then! Bloody hell, Villiers-Gore – how the hell can you stand it?”

“I don't know. I don't think I'll be able to much longer. It's supposed to be over at half term, but I don't know if I can last that long...”

And David felt himself starting to cry again, and he hated himself for being so weak in front of a council house boy, but he just couldn't help it. And Michael wriggled a bit closer and put his arm round him.

“Christ,” he said, “I know I said we all thought you deserved to be punished, but not like this – that's way over the top! And you have to put up with that every break?”

“Well... it's only really 2C who go that far. But the other forms strip me and... touch me – you know – and some of them beat me, and...”

Michael hugged him. “Look, I promise you'll be safe here,” he said. “And I'll try to wangle another night in the week as well, if I can. But what I don't understand is why you behaved so stupidly in the first place, sneaking round the Head Boy and looking down your nose at everyone. Didn't you realise what would happen when Garrett left school?”

“No – but I don't think I did anything wrong. All I was doing was reporting people who broke school rules to Garrett. If they hadn't broken the rules, nothing would have happened to them.... well... okay, there were a couple of cases where... but that doesn't really matter. But I didn't do anything to deserve what's happening to me now.”

“Well, you did act all snobby to us all. And what did you do to upset the Devlins so much? They don't even go to our school.”

“Their mother was our housekeeper, and her kids wouldn't stick to their part of the house – the servants' end, I mean. So I shouted at them a couple of times. But that's all I did. And... okay, maybe you're right about me acting a bit... well...”

“Snobby?”

“Yes, that – but, I mean, you lot do live on a council estate, after all...”

“So what?”

“Well... “ David realised that he had to be careful here: Stagg had provided him with a chance to escape the Devlins once a week, and it sounded like that might even go up to twice a week, and he didn't want to jeopardise that.

“See, it's hard for me to relate to people like you, because my father came from a noble family, and there's a class difference...”

“Oh, right,” said Michael, taking his arm away, “so you're not supposed to mix with proles like me.”

“Well... sort of... but that's just how I was brought up. And... look, Stagg, you've been decent to me, and... I'm really grateful...”

“You probably think I should be in the sleeping bag on the floor, don't you?”

“No! Actually, probably I should, and I'm glad you didn't make me... and... well... I don't think it matters, where we both come from. You've been far nicer to me than any of the kids who live in private houses like mine. So I'm sorry I looked down on you before. I didn't know what you were really like then.”

“Okay,” said Michael. “But, look, Villiers-Gore...”

“Call me V-G,” interrupted David. “Or David, if you like. It's a lot shorter.”

“Okay. Then I'm Michael. Or Mikey, if that isn't too common for you.... okay, sorry, that's a bit nasty. But you need to treat people as individuals, David: if you just judge people by what they're wearing or where they live, you'll never find out what they're really like. There are loads of different people on this estate, just like there are loads of different people who live in places like yours. Some are nice, some are nasty, and the only way to find out which is which is to talk to them individually, and not to just stick a label on everyone and then ignore anyone whose label is less... well, snobby, than yours. I think we could be friends, even though I'm not upper class like you think you are.”

“I think so, too,” said David, though he rather resented being told that he only thought he was upper class, when it was obviously the case. Still, it was true that Stagg had treated him better than any of the better class kids at school, so maybe some of what he said was true.

“Anyhow, I'll try to get you another night here, if you want,” Michael went on. “As long as you don't expect me to tug my forelock all the time and call you 'Milord'.”

“I'd like that. Thanks, Michael.”

“Good. Now let's get some sleep.” And Michael rolled over and settled down.

----------------------------------------------------------

You’re probably thinking that things are looking up for the Rat now – after all, he seems to have found a sympathetic ear and an ally. But in fact this relationship is going to cause him even more grief than the ones he has with Osterley or the Devlins. All will become clear in due course…

gothmog@nyms.net – recognise that? You should, because at the end of every chapter I bang on about how much I like it when people send comments to that address. So consider yourselves banged on at.

Copyright 2009: all rights reserved. Please do not reprint, repost or otherwise reproduce this or any part of it anywhere without my written permission.

David Clarke